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(Fantastic Fest Review) V/H/S HALLOWEEN Brings the Franchise Home to October 

By. Professor Horror 

                                                                            

 

The V/H/S franchise has always thrived on a certain kind of nostalgic chaos: the grainy fuzz of VHS tape, the jittery immersion of found footage, and the sense that anything can (and usually will) go horribly wrong. What started back in 2012 as a scrappy anthology of cursed tapes has become an annual October tradition, and Shudder has leaned into that rhythm beautifully. Past entries have anchored themselves in specific years (V/H/S/94, V/H/S/99, V/H/S/85) or even entire genres (V/H/S/Beyond’s sci-fi insanity), but V/H/S HALLOWEEN finally does the obvious and embraces the holiday that horror fans live for and....better late than never. But trust me: this one’s worth the wait. The anthology leans into the very DNA of Halloween with trick-or-treating, haunted houses, and urban legends and filters it all through the camcorder static that has defined this franchise for over a decade. By the end, it feels less like just another installment and more like the moment V/H/S finally claimed October as its official playground. V/H/S HALLOWEEN is a sugar rush of Halloween horror that proves the V/H/S franchise still has plenty of tricks...and more than a few treats.

 

The Wraparound: Diet Phantasma

Every V/H/S film needs a framing device, and this time around we get Bryan M. Ferguson’s hilariously grotesque Diet Phantasma. Imagine a soda taste test crossed with Halloween III: Season of the Witch. Test subjects in prison-orange jumpsuits are strapped to electrodes and asked to sip a suspicious new beverage under the watchful eye of a man in a white lab coat. (Very Milgram's experiment) What exactly are they testing? Certainly not flavor. Each return to the focus group amps up the absurdity, from mild convulsions to outright possession and combustion. It’s both a parody of corporate product testing and a sly riff on horror history, all while delivering buckets of slime and body horror. The best part is that, like any great wraparound, it escalates every time we cut back, and we see the mayhem reach new and hilarious levels.

 

                                                 

Coochie Coochie Coo (dir. Anna Zlokovic)

Anna Zlokovic kicks things off with a banger. Kayleigh and her best friend Lacie are high school seniors clinging to one last Halloween together before college splits them up. They mock adulthood by dressing as babies, stealing candy, and generally terrorizing their suburban neighborhood. But the urban legend of “The Mommy” (a grotesque boogeywoman who punishes those too old for trick-or-treating) turns out to be all too real. Once they enter her impossible haunted house, the baby talk ends and the blood flows. What makes the segment sting is how it fuses gross-out horror with the bittersweet anxiety of growing up. Zlokovic takes what could have been a silly premise and transforms it into one of the most memorable monsters of the entire franchise. 

 

Ut Supra Sic Infra (dir. Paco Plaza)

From there, Paco Plaza ([REC]) delivers something more somber. We open on a massacre’s aftermath: bodies strewn across the floor, flashbulbs popping as crime scene photos are taken. The lone survivor, Enric, insists it was all his fault. Plaza structures the story in parallel stoylines as the narrative switches between investigators walking Enric back through the scene and footage of the party that led to the carnage. The result is a grim dance of inevitability, culminating in a final reveal that’s equal parts supernatural and stomach-turning. Plaza’s entry is more measured than manic, but its dread builds like a slow knife twist. It may not leave you laughing like some of the others, but it’s got some fun nightmare imagery. 

 

                                         

 

Fun Size (dir. Casper Kelly)

Casper Kelly (Too Many Cooks, Adult Swim Yule Log) does exactly what you’d hope: he goes gloriously off the rails. Three twenty-somethings out trick-or-treating stumble on a candy bowl marked “Take One.” Naturally, they don’t. Suddenly they’re sucked into a bizarre candy factory nightmare where greedy souls become chocolate-covered casualties. Austin, the pompous blowhard of the group, rants about candy corporations while Hailey and Lauren dissect a doomed engagement in between bouts of shrieking terror.

The whole thing plays like Willy Wonka by way of Saw with a dash of Adult Swim absurdism. It’s colorful, deranged, and irresistibly entertaining and this short will definitely have you smirking (or wincing). 

 

Kidprint (dir. Alex Ross Perry)

Alex Ross Perry takes the darkest swing of the bunch. His Kidprint feels lo-fi and unsettling from the start as it is centered on a video shop that records children each Halloween “just in case” they go missing. But of course, the shop itself is tied to the disappearances. What begins like an awkward sketch spirals into a merciless commentary on predation, parental fear, and small-town rot. It’s an uncompromising entry that might alienate some, but its sheer bleakness ensures it’s unforgettable. It’s not the crowd-pleaser of the set, but it doesn’t want to be. Perry pushes the anthology into places most horror won’t go, and in doing so, gives the collection a jagged, dangerous edge.

 

                           

Home Haunt (dirs. Micheline Pitt-Norman & R.H. Norman)

And then there’s the closer...the crowd-pleasing knockout punch. Home Haunt is an ode to DIY haunted houses. Those backyard labors of love cobbled together by dads and kids with plywood, fog machines, and cheap rubber monsters. Here, a cursed record unleashes the “Song of Samhain,” bringing the papier-mâché ghouls to murderous life. Suddenly, guests are boiled alive in cauldrons and ripped apart by executioners who were cardboard cutouts five minutes earlier. It’s a nonstop parade of gore gags, practical effects, and Halloween spirit, all delivered with gleeful energy. The segment ends the anthology on a triumphant high, reminding us why found footage still works when imagination leads the charge. It’s exactly the kind of inventive, effects-heavy closer that ensures fans will make this film a Halloween favorite.

 

Like digging into your Halloween candy stash, V/H/S HALLOWEEN is a mixed bag. Some pieces are delicious, some are weirdly bitter, but the sheer variety ensures there’s something for everyone. More importantly, it finally feels like the franchise has found its true holiday home. The grainy VHS aesthetic, the scrappy found-footage conceits, the blend of humor and horror...they all align perfectly with October 31st. Is it as iconic as Trick ’r Treat? No. But it doesn’t need to be. V/H/S HALLOWEEN is its own chaotic beast beause  it is funnier than expected, gorier than ever, and just as fresh as the day this franchise began. If past entries suggest the future, maybe we’re headed toward holiday-themed sequels. V/H/S/Thanksgiving? V/H/S/Chanukah? Sign me up! For now, though, I’m perfectly content to make this one part of my annual October watchlist. The V/H/S series isn’t just alive...it’s thriving. And if this is the level of creativity Shudder is backing year after year, I’ll happily keep pressing play.