V/H/S/Halloween, Shudder’s latest blood-soaked offering, oozes with slimy coils of viscera, nostalgia, and some of the series’ most grisly moments—proving this latest entry a staple of spooky season.
Our wraparound story, Diet Phantasma, chronicles the failing product tests performed by the Octagon Company, a sinister organization teeming with ill-intentioned bespectacled scientists. These villains’ latest invention, a new soda called “Diet Phantasma”, contains vicious poltergeists in every can. As new, unsuspecting subjects come in to try the demonic drink, they’re maimed, slaughtered, and blown up—though not necessarily in that order.
While the gory effects and comedic moments of this overarching narrative are impressive (as well as the thought of a supernatural, murderous soda), I can’t help but feel like I’ve seen it before. V/H/S/85 uses a similar aesthetic in its wraparound story (“Total Copy”), which also takes place in a laboratory and involves a team of scientists pressing their meddling noses against an observation window. While the core story of “Diet Phantasma” is creepy and fun, I wish it hadn’t relied on such a similar framework to “Total Copy.” Seeing a bunch of teenage kids running around on Halloween and getting this haunted soda from a neighborhood house—or from a party—would have better supported the segments to come.
Our first segment is “Coochie Coochie Coo,” directed by Anna Zlokovic. As someone who spent their last trick-or-treatable Halloween with their best childhood friend running around their neighborhood, it was a fun concept to have two girls in the same situation. We follow Lacie and Kaleigh, two high schoolers who are about to be separated by college. On their last Halloween together, they’re lured into a strange home, thinking it’s a fake haunted house walkthrough. Instead, they’re locked in and terrorized by a multiple-breasted, demonic monster, known as “Mommy,” who traps people she deems too old to be trick-or-treating. This one, while not the strongest written of the bunch, offers some highly impressive creature design that is beyond disgusting and disturbing—something I’ll always admire about the V/H/S series.
Paco Plaza’s “Ut Supra Sic Infra” and Casper Kelly’s “Fun Size” follow. Plaza’s tells the story of a survivor of a Halloween massacre; Kelly’s, a group of friends who are terrorized by a mascot that chops them up and turns them into Halloween candy. Both are creative and offer a plethora of gross-out practical effects. “Fun Size,” while gruesome, is infused with some clever and crude humor. I also adored the frighteningly colorful and uncanny design of our mascot.
V/H/S/Halloween’s final two segments are the most effective. But viewer beware, there’s a lot of child murder here.
All comedic elements from “Fun Size” are extinguished with Alex Ross Perry’s “Kidprint.” Perry’s short is perhaps the most harrowing segment in V/H/S history.
“Kidprint” follows Tim Kaplan, a good-natured video store owner who creates Kidprints—short documentaries of children that can be used if they go missing. On Halloween, his town is plagued by a serial child kidnapper; kids are disappearing at a rapid pace. Eager to help, Tim returns to the video store to supply police with their kidprints—only to find something diabolical waiting for him.
The start of Perry’s segment is aesthetically festive, as if it were plucked from your childhood memories of Halloween (carving pumpkins, kids doing 1990s autumn crafts, Beistle decorations that you’d see in your third-grade classroom). But this warm aesthetic pales in comparison to the central story here, and the blood-soaked visuals at its core. Interspliced with images of the missing kids getting flayed alive and taunted by our villain are them sobbing and screaming for their parents during a mock “kidprint.” It’s difficult to watch (and borderline abhorrent), but it works. It’s effective. It feels like you’re watching something you shouldn’t, not a segment from V/H/S. What makes it even worse, perhaps, is the acting from our villain—his cruel, craven torture of these kids is sickening. This one is not for the faint of heart—it really brings a new meaning to the Halloween safety tips your parents scared you with as a kid.
To finish off this autumnal feature is a new favorite of mine—Micheline Pitt-Norman and R.H. Norman’s “Home Haunt.” By far the most atmospheric and festive of the segments, we’re introduced to Halloween enthusiast Keith, his wife Nancy, and their teenage son, Zack. Each year, the family puts on a neighborhood haunt, something that Zack feels he’s grown out of. After much begging from his father, Zack relents and helps his parents build their haunted attraction. While shopping for decorations at a local thrift store, Keith steals a vinyl record called “Halloween Horrors” that contains (what he hopes to be) spooky sound effects. But when he plays the record on opening night, all Hell (quite literally) breaks loose, bringing the home haunt’s monsters to life, resulting in a gory massacre.
“Home Haunt” is a fun, gross short that oozes creativity and nostalgia. I remember as a kid being terrified of the Halloween cassette tape my dad used to play that had owls hooting, ghosts moaning, and witches cackling; this was a great callback to that media. The idea of having the vinyl bring the home haunt monsters to life was a cool concept. As was the choice to have a terrifying, green-faced witch disembowel several unsuspecting trick-or-treaters, which we see from her point of view.
Told you—a lot of child murder in this one.
V/H/S/Halloween is a fun, festive, and disturbing addition to the series. Its last two segments prove this flick to be a formidable addition to any horror fan’s catalogue.
V/H/S/Halloween
2025
dir. Various
115 min.
Now streaming on AMC+ and Shudder.
