There is a unique texture to old videotapes, a physical memory of static and magnetic decay that digital clarity has erased. This is the space where the V/H/S series has lived for over a decade, sifting through the noise to find nightmares. I’ve always felt the format’s true power lies in its supposed authenticity, the chilling possibility that what you are seeing was not created but simply found.
With its eighth installment, V/H/S Halloween, the franchise finally tunes its tracking to horror’s most sacred night. The result feels less like a conventional movie and more like channel-surfing through a public access station in hell on October 31st. Each segment is a burst of static-laden dread, a different signal from a different corner of the night.
The experience is intentionally disjointed, mirroring the way we consume scary stories in the modern age: fragmented, chaotic, and relentlessly paced. This collection is defined by its vicious sense of humor and a deep commitment to shocking, tangible gore, all captured with the unsteady hand of someone who is about to die.
Drenched in Blood and Pumpkin Guts
The success of any Halloween-themed film hinges on its ability to capture the holiday’s unique atmosphere. V/H/S Halloween approaches this by dissecting the season’s rituals. Segments built around trick-or-treating or homemade haunted houses tap directly into a shared cultural nostalgia, which makes their violent subversion all the more effective.
These shorts work because they understand that Halloween’s fun is rooted in a flirtation with fear. Other segments, however, seem to treat the holiday as mere set dressing, a convenient excuse for carnage that could have occurred on any other night. This inconsistency is a common trait of anthologies, but here it feels more pronounced against the strong thematic backdrop. The film’s most consistent element is its tonal blend of extreme horror and bleak comedy.
This is not horror that aims for slow-burn dread; it seeks a visceral, immediate reaction. The filmmakers orchestrate moments of such over-the-top violence that laughter becomes a defense mechanism, a nervous release in the face of absolute absurdity.
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The practical effects work is phenomenal, creating stomach-churning scenes of bodily destruction. The sound design supports this assault, using the limitations of the format—distorted microphone audio, abrupt cuts, the low hum of the camera—to heighten the sense of raw, unfiltered reality.
Unspooling the Horror
The film is held together by “Diet Phantasma,” a wraparound story about a corporate taste test for a sinister new soda. Its retro aesthetic and anti-consumerist dread brought me right back to Halloween III: Season of the Witch, another film that understood the horror potential of corporate malevolence hiding behind a friendly jingle.
The first proper segment, “Coochie Coochie Coo,” is a fantastic start, turning a local urban legend into a surreal haunted house nightmare. The creature design here is a triumph of practical artistry, feeling genuinely unsettling because it looks like something cobbled together from folk-tale descriptions. Following it is “Fun Size,” a brightly colored detour into madness.
When kids steal from the wrong candy bowl, they are transported to a nightmarish factory. Its use of composed shots and vibrant colors is a deliberate choice that makes the chaos feel more deliberate and bizarrely beautiful, a stark contrast to the usual shaky-cam murkiness.
The tape that will stay with me the longest is “Alex Ross Perry’s “Kidprint.”” Its grainy, lo-fi aesthetic feels authentically of its time, like a forgotten home movie. The premise, a video technician at a child-identification service, slowly uncovers something monstrous. This segment is the darkest in the franchise’s history, a transgressive piece of work that taps into the primal fear of stranger danger that lurks beneath Halloween’s playful surface.
The flat lighting and mundane setting make the eventual brutality feel suffocatingly real. “Home Haunt” brings things back to more traditional holiday fare, capturing the DIY spirit of a family’s yard haunt before unleashing a demonic force. Its premise is relatable, which makes its horrific turn effective.
Finally, Paco Plaza’s “Ut Supra Sic Infra” offers a structural experiment, functioning as a found-footage procedural that reconstructs a massacre by cutting between the event and the police investigation. This non-linear approach creates an analytical distance, inviting the viewer to piece together the horror rather than just experience it.
Pressing Eject
V/H/S Halloween is a chaotic, nasty, and deeply entertaining addition to the series. For me, the film’s value comes from its position as a launchpad for emerging filmmakers, a space where they can be unapologetically weird and aggressive in their vision.
The franchise occupies a unique space between indie horror and a mainstream brand, using its name recognition to smuggle truly abrasive art to a wider audience. The found-footage technique is the core of its identity, and while this film doesn’t necessarily push the format into new territory, it proves the style is far from dead.
It is a powerful tool for creating immediate, subjective horror. The film’s greatest strength is its raw, punk-rock energy. It is a celebration of the grotesque and a testament to the enduring power of a well-told, terrifying tale, no matter how grainy the image is. It successfully captures the dangerous, thrilling spirit of Halloween night.
V/H/S/Halloween is a horror anthology film. It is the eighth installment in the V/H/S franchise. The film premiered at Fantastic Fest on September 19, 2025, and is scheduled to be released as a Shudder exclusive on October 3, 2025.
Full Credits
Director: Bryan M. Ferguson, Casper Kelly, Micheline Pitt-Norman, R.H. Norman, Alex Ross Perry, Paco Plaza, Anna Zlokovic
Writers: Bryan M. Ferguson, Alberto Marini, R.H. Norman, Micheline Pitt
Producers: Josh Goldbloom, James Harris, Roy Lee, Brad Miska, Steven Schneider, Michael Schreiber
Cast: Lawson Greyson, Riley Nottingham, Isabella Feliciana, Jenna Hogan, Jake Ellsworth Austin, Bianca Thomson
Director of Photography (Cinematographer): Adrian Hernandez, Robert Kolodny, Owen Laird, Powell Robinson
Editors: Alex Familian, Bryan M. Ferguson, Robert Kolodny
The Review
V/H/S Halloween
V/H/S Halloween is a viciously fun and gruesome mixtape of seasonal terror. While some segments are weaker than others, the anthology's high points deliver creative gore and a bleak sense of humor. The truly disturbing "Kidprint" segment alone makes this a memorable entry. It's an unapologetically nasty celebration of the holiday, perfect for fans of extreme, low-fi horror who appreciate raw energy over polished filmmaking. A bloody treat for the spooky season.
PROS
- Several segments creatively embrace the Halloween theme.
- A successful blend of shocking gore and dark, absurd humor.
- Standout shorts like "Kidprint" and "Fun Size" are inventive and memorable.
- Excellent and stomach-churning practical effects.
- Maintains a consistent, high-energy, and unapologetically raw tone.
CONS
- The quality between the segments is noticeably inconsistent.
- Some shorts feel only loosely connected to the central holiday theme.
- It does not innovate or experiment with the established found-footage format.
- The extreme and disturbing nature of certain scenes may be off-putting for many viewers.
