“And once started, it trod the earth forevermore, wreaking its savagery suddenly, swiftly, and with incredible ferocity. Then, its lust sated, it shrank back into the mists of time for a year, a decade, a generation perhaps. But it slept only and did not die, for it could not be killed. And on the eve before Samhain it would stir, and if the lust were powerful enough, it would rise to fulfill the curse invoked so many Samhains before.”

Time and time again, the Halloween franchise has attempted to explain away the reasoning behind Michael Myers’ mania. Since the very beginning, the Halloween films have tried to peel back a layer or two of Michael’s mystique, enticing viewers with a glimpse of the ultimately unknowable while risking damage to the mystery that makes him such a potent, terrifying villain. Is he merely a madman, out for a fun night of spree killing, as the first film suggested? Or perhaps, is he “purely and simply evil”, as that inaugural movie’s Ahab Doctor Loomis gravely intoned in one of the film’s most indelible scenes?

The first sequel suggested that Michael was solely interested in killing his family members when it was revealed that the previous film’s Final Girl Laurie Strode was his little sister, while the fourth and fifth entries would bolster this assumption by having Michael target his last remaining relative – little Jamie Lloyd, his preteen niece. The sixth film would take the series into utterly bonkers territory when it revealed that Michael was under the control of a Druid cult, who’d placed upon him the “Curse of Thorn” in order to bestow upon him a great supernatural power that they wished to harness. The final cinematic attempt at explaining away what drives the Shape came with Rob Zombie’s 2007 remake, which grounded Michael’s backstory and presented him as a burgeoning young psychopath growing up under the weight of mental illness and an abusive environment.

And with David Gordon Green’s brand new “requel” having just arrived in theaters this past week, we now have the possibility of yet another explanation, yet another possible hint as to Michael’s true nature. Are viewers given any further insight into what makes Michael tick, or is the Shape being presented as a faceless boogeyman yet again, much as he was when the story first began? We’ll leave that for viewers to discover. Before you dash off to catch a screening of this newest installment (if you haven’t already), allow we here at Bloody Disgusting to present to you the all too seldom discussed origin of Michael Myers…

Published in 1979, the year following the first film’s release, author and literary agent Richard Curtis’ Halloween novelization presented a tale which hewed closely to the events of John Carpenter’s film, yet deviated in some fascinating ways. Curtis, writing under the pseudonym Curtis Richards, provided additional scenes throughout to expand the film’s story and deepen its characters. Among these bonus moments were an early bit featuring Doctor Loomis testifying before a court about Michael’s behavior (which was not unlike a scene which would be filmed for Halloween’s television cut a couple of years later, which can now be found in the film’s extended cut). Here, Loomis details young Michael Audrey Myers’ time in Smith’s Grove Sanitarium, noting that many strange occurrences would befall anyone in the hospital who crossed the child, causing injuries ranging from food poisoning and broken bones to near-death – leading Loomis to note that Michael Myers “may be the most dangerous person I have ever handled”.

Further additional scenes included a revelation that Doctor Loomis had a wife (who he phones while en route to Haddonfield to warn against opening her door to trick-or-treaters that evening), a detailing of Michael’s sexual attraction to Annie during his stalking, and even gives the Shape a mask that’s entirely different from the pale, iconic Shatner-visage that’s become synonymous with the character. From Curtis’ novelization: ”The man had dark red-stained lips and his eyes were rimmed in purple, like grossly overused eyeshadow. A livid scar zig-zagged down his cheek.”

But the most significant addition to the Shape’s story came with Curtis’ prologue, which begins in northern Ireland during the early days of the Celtic race, placing its events sometime around 500 BC. The Druid clan we’re introduced to are preparing to celebrate the festival of Samhain (pronounced “Sow-when”, apologies to Doctor Loomis). The celebration is intended to please their sun god Muck Olla, known alternatively as both the god of the underworld and, wait for it…”the boogeyman”.

These people are presided over by King Gwynwyll, whose youngest daughter Deirdre has recently come of age. Fair-haired and stunning, Deirdre is noted as being the most beautiful young woman in this clan. Inevitably, she has begun drawing the attentions of the various young warriors throughout the land.

She has also caught the eye of a young man named Enda. A lovestruck fifteen-year old, Enda is presented as a sympathetic wretch whose botched birth left him deformed, with a “shriveled arm and … twitching mouth”. Despite the ridicule from his own family for his ill-advised infatuation, Enda convinces himself that, if he could only skirt by Deirdre’s all too protective family and speak with her directly, he might possibly win both her heart and hand.

This certainty led Enda to pursue Deirdre one day, trailing after her once he found her alone (shades of the Shape stalking his prey here). As Enda approached Deirdre, she mistook his intentions, crying out “Help! Help! He means to rape me!” Laughter ensued once Deirdre realized Enda’s true plan, with the resulting humiliation infuriating the boy, leading him to drink – and to plot his revenge.

On the day of Samhain, the people lit a large bonfire and danced about it in celebration. Enda moved amongst the revelers, drinking and hefting a large butcher’s blade, all while eyeing Deirdre and her just-announced fiancé Cullain. His attack was swift, cutting down the dancing couple with a rage-fueled ferocity – slicing Cullain’s throat to the windpipe, then driving his blade down to the hilt into Deirdre’s chest.

Whatever pleasure Enda’s vengeance brought him was short-lived. The distraught tribe set upon the disabled youth, rending him limb from limb, tearing him apart. In the end, only Enda’s severed head and removed heart remained, commanded by the King to be taken to the “Hill of Fiends” and cursed by his shaman. And so it was done, with the shaman proclaiming “Thy soul shall roam the earth till the end of time, reliving thy foul deed and thy foul punishment, and may the god Muck Olla visit every affliction upon thy spirit forevermore.”

Curtis then outlines the various transmutations the celebration of Samhain would undergo throughout the centuries, until it finally became the relatively harmless holiday that we horror fans know and love to celebrate every year. Though from time to time, Curtis notes, “the innocent frolic of All Hallow Even was shattered by some brutal and inexplicable crime, and the original spirit of the celebration was brought home to a horrified world.” And so, Curtis’ prologue ends, but not before adding one last touch to precede the events that open the film.

The following chapter introduces us to young Michael Myers, six-years old and itching to go trick-or-treating in his new clown costume. Michael is presented as a normal child here, being schooled on the boogeyman and the darker origins of the holiday by his grandmother. When the talk turns morbid, Michael’s mother Edith chides Grandma, until the discussion takes a surprising turn – revealing that Michael has been having violent dreams, and has been hearing voices which tell the boy to say that he hates others. This recalls Edith’s own Grandpa Nordstrom, who’d had bad dreams and heard voices before some grim, ultimately undescribed event. The novel continues on from there, following Michael along his path to murdering his sister Judith, much as the film begins.

While Curtis’ ingenious marriage of Celtic lore and Carpenter’s film could hardly be considered canonical (but then again, with the various timelines the franchise now boasts, what is canon for Halloween these days?), it does provide a fascinating explanation for Michael’s drive to kill. And yet, does it make the boogeyman more or less scary for knowing his “true” origin? Do we need to know why the Shape takes to the streets, stalks victims, cuts down random folks who run afoul of him on his favorite holiday? In this writer’s opinion, the scariest Michael is the one who is utterly unfathomable. But even so, Curtis’ novelization provides an intriguing addition to the lore that’s every bit as interesting as “the boogeyman”, Laurie and Michael being siblings, the Thorn cult, etc.

And maybe that’s what makes Michael the scariest of all modern cinematic villains. That, for all the possible explanations, for every potential reason for his evil that we’re given, it only moves us further away from truly knowing him. For all the faces Michael is given throughout the franchise, they are all hidden behind the same blank, pale, emotionless mask – forever rendering him an enigmatic, impenetrable Shape.

NOTE: all quotes in bold italics taken from Richard Curtis’ Halloween novelization.