"Halloween III" has absolutely nothing to do with any of the other "Halloween" movies. It does not feature any of the same characters or locations, nor is the story the least bit similar. This is doubly jarring considering how closely intertwined the first two "Halloween" movies are. It did have the same producers, though. My unfounded speculation is that they wanted to turn the "Halloween" series into an anthology of disjoint horror stories about the Halloween holiday, thereby turning "Halloween" into more of a brand name than a film series name. If I'm right, it obviously didn't work, and that's why it was inevitable that Halloween IV's subtitle would be "The Return of Michael Myers."

Maybe if this story had been good, the idea would have worked. But it's not. It's preposterous. It's about a mad warlock who steals Stonehenge and, with his army of androids, seeks the destruction of the human race by implanting chips in Halloween masks that, when activated by a television commercial, cause them to emit laser beams which, when they strike a person, cause their mouths to open too wide and bugs and snakes to crawl out. I couldn't MAKE UP a more comic horror movie plot synopsis if I tried.

Let's start at the beginning. A man, afraid for his life, is running down the street. A car is following him, and the people in it are presumably out to kill him. So naturally he hides where it is very bright, in front of a white building. The car drives by. Then it backs up. Then the camera pans and someone is RIGHT THERE, and there are harsh electronic riff noises. Yes, the music and sound effects in "Halloween III" are even more annoying than the cat shriek chords and high pitched whines of the first two "Halloween" movies.

The man is wrestled to the ground by his superhuman killer. The man reaches over, and naturally there's something of use within his grasp. It's a chain that's attached to a block that's keeping a car from rolling. So he pulls the chain, which removes the block, which makes the car start rolling. The man's attacker is unconcerned, and he gets squashed.

The camera pans on a bunch more people who are RIGHT THERE, and there are more shrieking sound effects. There are more deaths, too, which are truly sick. Graphic violence is not what makes good horror.

Our generic hero and our generic heroine, through the most ridiculously paranoid leaps in logic imaginable, suspect a huge conspiracy at a Halloween mask factory. Why? Because the heroine's father died saying "They'll kill us all" and holding one of their masks. They check into a motel, posing as husband and wife. Then they go from their very first romantic feelings for each other to deciding they're passionately in love with each other all in the space of about five seconds. That's it. There wasn't even any romantic tension beforehand that foreshadowed their involvement with each other.

Through remarkable contrivance, Generic Hero and Generic Heroine get a tour of the Halloween mask factory, along with a fat guy and his family. The boss there gives Fat Guy's son a Halloween mask -- one that's gone through "final processing." What's final processing? Well, Fat Guy asks, and he is told it's a "trade secret." Obviously "final processing" means "hide a bug creating laser chip in the mask," but barring psychotic conspiracy, what meaning could "final processing" possibly have?

"Sunday the 31st" the subtitle reads. Then, in case we haven't got the message, a second subtitle reads "Halloween."

It becomes evident that the boss guy actually is a megalomaniac with visions of killing millions of children. So he does what any ordinary megalomaniac with visions of killing millions of children would do. He gives Generic Hero a tour of his Elaborate Badguy Hideout. Oh, so suddenly we're in a James Bond movie, now? "A good magician never explains," he explains. This prefaces his explanation of every trick up his sleeve. He even shows him Stonehenge, which he has stolen and hidden away in his underground hideout. The bug lasers, you see, require pieces of Stonehenge to work properly. Even disregarding the Stonehenge thing, this makes no sense. Up until now, the android things have been brutally killing anyone who even *suspects* something is amiss. Now that Generic Hero has pretty much found out everything, he gets a company tour -- followed by an elaborate death machine, in which he is left alone to escape. What's the death machine? He gets tied to a chair in front of a TV, outfitted with one of the laser bug masks, and will die when the commercial airs, along with everyone else. How does he escape? He puts his foot through the TV, flings his mask over the security camera with one tiny little flick of his fingers that nevertheless hits the camera accurately from the other side of the room. Then the movie cuts to something else, and, when it cuts back again, we see he has a shard of glass from the TV screen in his hands. The cut was necessary, I presume, so they wouldn't have to show how he got the shard in his hands, which would have been difficult if not impossible the way he was tied up.

Meanwhile, Fat Guy and his family get locked up, and their son becomes the subject of a test. Sure enough, when the deadly commercial is broadcast on the TV in their homey cell, the kid falls to the floor, bleeds, and spiders and snakes start crawling out of his head. I'm glad this movie takes its science so seriously.

Anyway, Generic Hero sneaks into the control room and conveniently knows exactly which three buttons to push to get the dreaded commercial to air on the security monitors. The android operators, being mere operators familiar with the equipment, don't know how to shut it off. Generic Hero runs up some scaffolding and dumps a box of laser bug chips into the room. He dumps WAY MORE, I might add, than could have POSSIBLY fit in that stupid box. Anyway, this causes all the chips to turn into little sparks of blue lightning, which obviously kills all the androids. Then the boss badguy realizes that Stonehenge is about to shoot lasers at his head, so he gives Generic Hero a nod of professional admiration just before he bites it.

Generic Hero rescues Generic Heroine, and they race away down the road. But wait! It turns out Generic Heroine has become Android Heroine! Never mind how it happened, it did! Heroine tries to KILL Hero! The car crashes into a tree. Hero kills Heroine repeatedly by ripping off pieces of its anatomy. I can't even TELL you how many times disembodied pieces of Android Heroine keep coming back to life to kill this guy. The car crash rips its arm off, and it's all over. Then, SUDDENLY, with an ELECTRONIC SHRIEK CHORD, she attacks again, and he punches its head off, and it's all over. Then, SUDDENLY, with an ELECTRONIC SHRIEK CHORD, the arm attacks, and he throws it away, and it's all over. Then, SUDDENLY, with an ELECTRONIC SHRIEK CHORD, the torso attacks, and he punches it, and it's all over. I was expecting the head to come alive again and start biting his ankles, and I was actually disappointed when it didn't.

Now we get to the stupid part.

The only thing left to do is to keep the Commercial of Death from airing on TV. He calls up one person and yells and hollers and pleads for the commercial to be taken off the air. Millions will be killed, he says. Well apparently this works, because, on the TV screen, the commercial is interrupted part way through with a notice about technical difficulties. Then the channel gets changed, and the commercial on that channel is interrupted, too. Then the channel gets changed, but this time the commercial is not interrupted. The guy starts screaming into the phone for him to stop airing the commercial. He gets louder and louder, and the commercial continues to play. Roll credits.

Yes, I said, "Roll credits."

A good open-ended conclusion is highly rewarding. A bad one can be one of the most dissatisfying abominations in all storytelling history. And what's especially telling about THIS ending is that my outrage (well, I can't say "outrage," because I was laughing like crazy at it) had NOTHING to do with not knowing for sure how it turned out. All I was thinking about is: (1) Nobody on the other end of that phone would entertain this guy's demands for one second, (2) Even if he did, he wouldn't have the power or ability to remove the commercial from the air at an instant's notice, (3) Even if he did, he wouldn't have that power or ability for three separate channels, (4) Even if he did, and he stopped it from airing on two channels, why on earth wouldn't he also stop it on the third? This movie's feeble attempt at an eerie, thought-provoking ending are so ineffective and transparent, it is mind-boggling.

Turkey Rating: three turkeys, which is a misleading rating because it takes into account both the average and often tiresome viewing experience (it gets discounted for some really nauseating violence, among other things) *and* the absurdly entertaining time one can have reflecting on the movie afterward. Most of the "bad movie humor" to be found is in the form of the sheer, blatant outrageousness of the story; i.e., there are only a few "punchlines" in which a single beautifully stupid moment incites instant laughter. But the movie is utterly hilarious to reflect upon when it's all over. Just writing that plot synopsis in the second paragraph of this review threw me into fits of laughter.

Scene to watch for: Android parts keep coming alive.

Best line: "Ah! Mr. Challis!" (Boss badguy's greeting to Generic Hero, just prior to the company tour.)

Things that make you go "Huh?": The final scene.