Connect with us

Editorials

Overlooked TV Movie ‘The Halloween Tree’ is One of the Great Animated Halloween Specials

Published

on

“All dressed up for All Hallows Eve. But you don’t know why, or what or even from where.”

In the midst of discussing the quintessential Halloween specials that aren’t It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, The Halloween Tree is often an undervalued part of the conversation. The Hanna-Barbera-produced animated adaptation of Ray Bradbury’s 1972 fantasy adventure novel of the same name premiered on TBS in October 1993 to a warm reception, garnering a Daytime Emmy for Outstanding Writing in an Animated Program. The special, since its initial airing, remains an annual viewing staple among the batch of 90s kids who either caught it on Cartoon Network or VHS, but rarely outside of that subgroup is it mentioned. The notoriety of The Halloween Tree, bar Bradbury’s celebrated novel, seems cemented in its decade despite being one of the most unique depictions of Halloween in children’s animation. 

The story opens on a crisp, warm autumn night in a small Midwestern town where a young group of friends, Tom (Voiced by Edan Gross), Ralph (Voiced by Alex Greenwald), Jenny (Voiced by Annie Barker) and Wally (Voiced by Andrew Keegan), don their Halloween costumes, and hop on their bikes to meet up with their leader, Pip (Voiced by Kevin Smets), for a round of trick or treating. Their plans come to a screeching halt when the gang, upon arriving at Pip’s suspiciously decoration-free house, witness him being loaded into the back of an ambulance due to appendicitis. On their way to the hospital, they think they see a translucent Pip running across a gloomy ravine. They follow him only to arrive at a dark, mysterious mansion where, according to Bradbury’s soft, descriptive narration, chimneys are positioned on the roof like gravestones. 

When the kids knock on the door, they’re swallowed whole by the winds, and thrown into the castle where they meet its mysterious proprietor, Carapace Clavicle Moundshroud (Voiced by Leonard Nimoy). Together they all observe Pip’s ghostly form climbing a colossal tree outside that appears as if it stretches for miles into the night sky. Each branch is laden with lit jack-o-lanterns that contain the souls from across every path of Halloween past. Moundshroud promptly whisks the kids away on the odyssey of a lifetime when Pip’s ghostly apparition disappears after stealing a pumpkin with his face carved on it. 

Leonard Nimoy exchanges his Starfleet attire for a classic red and black cape as he steps into the spirited shoes of Mr. Moundshroud, the time-traveling angel of death who embodies the jagged lankiness of Nosferatu and the swollen yellow head of Mr. Burns. It’s a good look. He sounds as old as he looks, yet brings a confident regalness to his overall manner. When Nimoy speaks, you listen. Moundshroud makes a memorable first impression by questioning the children about the nature of their costumes, an inquiry that none of them can really give a thoughtful answer to. In most cases, children choose their costume because it looks cool. But Moundshroud decides he’ll utilize Pip’s retrieval as an excuse to teach them about the iconographies of their outfits. 

A healthy mix of education curiosity and adventurous imagination, The Halloween Tree is one of the few cases where an animated kids special attempts to demystify aspects of the supernatural while simultaneously engaging in mystical fun. Wally, wrapped in toilet paper from head to toe, is first on Moundshroud’s informational docket in the group’s first pit stop – ancient Egypt. He comes face to face with the mummification process firsthand in conjunction with other traditions such as ‘The Festival of Ghosts’ where families would exhume the bodies of past relatives from their sarcophagus to join them at the dinner table on this special day. And the pattern continues as such with the remaining children. Jenny, gowned in witch’s garb, learns a valuable lesson about the folklore behind the origins of witchcraft and how those who practiced during the Dark Ages did not, indeed, live deliciously. And Ralph, costumed as an unspecified monster, grasps the defensive significance of gargoyles while perched atop Notre Dame itself. 

The final (and most important) lesson of the evening, however, falls upon the glow-in-the-dark suit-wearing Tom Skeleton (how fitting) who experiences El Dia de Los Muertos (The Day of the Dead) ceremonies up close and personal. He indulges in traditional holiday Mexican treats, a decorated candy skull with his name on it, and witnesses the dead encompass an entire neighborhood before completing his ultimate task. When you break it down, The Halloween Tree is an alternate universe episode of the Magic School Bus in which Ms. Frizzle straps the children in for a spooky field trip, educating them while simultaneously chasing the spirit of one of her students, most likely Arnold, that she finally got killed on one of those crazy adventures. 

The component that immediately brings The Halloween Tree to life is composer John Debney‘s whimsically epic score. A captivating composition wields the power of immersing the viewer into just about anything and Debney’s is no exception. It’s partly why I hold vague memories of first seeing this on VHS in middle school long ago. The music is fully attuned to the mischievous spirit of Halloween, working in tandem with the alluring, colorful animation. You know your music is good when the children assembling a time-traveling transport kite from sentient, roaring circus posters is the second most interesting thing taking place, as Debney gives the moment the wowness it deserves.  

Despite never being explicitly referred as the grim reaper, Moundshroud all but spells it out for the dumbfounded children who only fully grasp the weight of his intentions towards the climax. It appears that they glanced over the part where Moundshroud makes it explicitly clear that he’s in it to snatch Pip’s “pumpkin fire soul” in the midst of their time-hopping scavenger hunt. He even has ‘Time Management’ listed as an occupation on his business card. Some have theorized that the scene in which Moundshroud can’t enter Notre Dame indicates that he’s an incarnation of the Devil or some other malevolent, soul-collecting force, but I see it as Pip invoking his right to sanctuary, effectively preventing Moundshroud from retrieving him.

Bradbury’s opening narration really holds Pip to quite the standard in terms of kid group leaders, declaring him “the greatest boy who ever lived.” An overstatement, sure, yet there’s an air of legitimacy to this claim as his friends are undeniably loyal all the way to the end. They thrust themselves, with slight hesitation, into a number of perilous scenarios as Pip’s apparition hops throughout history. You want the kind of friends who will jump on sentient flying gargoyles in the middle of a thunderstorm to literally save your soul. After all they’ve accomplished for him, the emotion really shines through in the movie’s closing moments where they look upon Pip safe and sound at home.

Viewing The Halloween Tree through a more mature lens really opens your eyes to a slew of crafty theming and dark implications that flew over your head as a kid. The climax sees Jenny, Ralph, Wally and Tom finally catching up to Pip after such a long night only to have him and his pumpkin scooped up by a victorious Moundshroud. It dawns on them that they’ve essentially been assisting an angel of death in collecting their best friend’s soul for all eternity. But this is where the special takes an unexpected turn. Tom walks up to Moundshroud and selflessly offers him a year shaved off his life for Pip, inspiring others to follow suit. 

And there’s no last minute ‘well, you’ve all learned an incredible lesson and I’ll bring your friend back anyway without removing years from your life’ happy ending resolution. Moundshroud goes through with their proposal. It carries some rather dark implications when you really think about. The kids collectively pay Pip’s bar tab, ensuring that they’ll have to tragically watch him pass on in his teenage years. They may not fear Pip’s death, but as they grow older they’ll certainly fear the moment when Moundshroud comes for them.

In addition to being a fun introspective journey of the holiday, The Halloween Tree also works as an excellent conversation-starter for those with young children who haven’t quite grasped the concept of death and near-death experiences. It tackles the heavy subject matter in a concise and informative fashion that could prove useful. The spooky environments ooze with the simmering Halloween spirit that puts you in the right frame of mind for the big day. The Halloween Tree is less of an educational special and more of an engaging coming-of-age adventure/trivia extravaganza that deserves its rightful setting at the Halloween TV special table.

Editorials

11 Years Later: The Horrific Cycles of Violence in ‘Only God Forgives’ Starring Ryan Gosling

Published

on

Traditionally, movie theater walkouts are usually associated with the horror genre, with infamous cases ranging from 1973’s The Exorcist (particularly during the crucifix masturbation scene) and even Lars Von Trier’s controversial serial killer memoir, The House That Jack Built.

That being said, there are exceptions to this rule, as some movies manage to terrorize audiences into leaving the theater regardless of genre. One memorable example of this is Nicolas Winding Refn’s 2013 revenge thriller Only God Forgives, a film so brutal and inaccessible that quite a few critics ended up treating it like a snuff film from hell back when it was first released. However, I’ve come to learn that horror fans have a knack for seeing beyond the blood and guts when judging the value of a story, and that’s why I’d like to make a case for Winding’s near-impenetrable experiment as an excellent horror-adjacent experience.

Refn originally came up with the idea for Only God Forgives immediately after completing 2009’s Valhalla Rising and becoming confused by feelings of anger and existential dread during his wife’s second pregnancy. It was during this time that he found himself imagining a literal fistfight with God, with this concept leading him to envision a fairy-tale western set in the far east that would deal with some of the same primal emotions present in his Viking revenge story.

It was actually Ryan Gosling who convinced the director to tackle the more commercially viable Drive first, as he wanted to cement his partnership with the filmmaker in a more traditional movie before tackling a deeply strange project. This would pay off during the production of Only God Forgives, as the filmmaking duo was forced to use their notoriety to scrounge up money at a Thai film festival when local authorities began demanding bribes in order to allow shooting to continue.

In the finished film, Gosling plays Julian, an American ex-pat running a Muay-Thai boxing club alongside his sociopathic brother Billy (Tom Burke). When Billy gets himself killed after sexually assaulting and murdering a teenager, Julian is tasked by his disturbed mother (Kristin Scott Thomas) with tracking down those responsible for the death of her first-born child. What follows is a surreal dive into the seedy underbelly of Bangkok as the cycle of revenge escalates and violence leads to even more violence.


SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

There’s no right or wrong way to engage with art, but there are some films that clearly require more effort from the audience side in order to be effective. And while you can’t blame cinemagoers for just wanting to enjoy some passive entertainment, I think it’s always worth trying to meet a work of art on its own terms before judging it.

Despite being a huge fan of Drive, I avoided Only God Forgives for a long time because of its poor critical reception and excessively esoteric presentation. It was only years later that I gave the flick a chance when a friend of mine described the experience as “David Lynch on cocaine.” It was then that I realized that nearly everything critics had complained about in the film are precisely what made it so interesting.

If you can stomach the deliberate pacing, you’ll likely be fascinated by this stylish nightmare about morally questionable people becoming trapped in a needless cycle of violence and retaliation. Not only is the photography impeccable, turning the rain-slicked streets of Bangkok into a neo-noir playground, but the bizarre characters and performances also help to make this an undeniably memorable movie. And while Gosling deserves praise as the unhinged Julian, I’d argue that Vithaya Pansringarm steals the show here as “The Angel of Vengeance,” even if his untranslated dialogue is likely to be unintelligible for most viewers.

However, I think the lack of subtitles ends up enhancing the mood here (even though some editions of the film ended up including them against the director’s wishes), adding to the feeling that Julian is a stranger in a strange land while also allowing viewers to project their own motivations onto some of the “antagonists.”

And while Only God Forgives is frequently accused of burying its narrative underneath a pile of artsy excess, I think the heart of the film is rather straightforward despite its obtuse presentation. I mean, the moral here is basically “revenge isn’t fun,” which I think is made clear by the horrific use of violence (though we’ll discuss that further in the next section).

To be clear, I’m still not sure whether or not I enjoyed this movie, I just know that I’m glad I watched it.


AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

There are two different kinds of gore effects. One of them is meant to entertain viewers with exaggerated wounds and excessive blood as you admire the craftsmanship behind the filmmaking. The other kind is simply a tool meant to simulate what actually happens when you injure a human body. Like I mentioned before, Only God Forgives isn’t trying to be “fun,” so you can guess what kind gore is in this one…

From realistic maimings to brutal fist fights that feel more painful than thrilling, the “action” label on this flick seems downright questionable when the majority of the experience has you wincing at genuinely scary acts of grisly violence. I mean, the story begins with an unmotivated rampage through the streets of late-night Bangkok and ends with the implication of even more pointless violence, so it’s pretty clear that you’re not really meant to root for an “action hero” here.

I can’t even say that the deaths resemble those from slasher flicks because the movie never attempts to sensationalize these horrific acts, with Refn preferring to depict them as straightforward consequences of violent people going through the motions – which is somehow even scarier than if this had just been yet another hyper-violent revenge movie.

Not only that, but the characters’ overall lack of moral principles makes this story even more disturbing, with the main antagonist being the closest thing to a decent person among the main cast despite also being a brutal vigilante.

Only God Forgives doesn’t care if you like it or not (and actually takes measures to make sure that the viewing experience is often unpleasant), but if you’re willing to step up to this cinematic challenge and engage with the narrative and visuals on their own terms, I think you’ll find an unforgettable nightmare waiting for you on the other side.


There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

Continue Reading