If you couldn't tell by the title, this post is going to be different from the short stories I normally post. This is an essay I wrote concerning aspects of Halloweentown that I found congruent with the Satanic religion. Note, also, that while I am a member of the Church of Satan, I do not have any authority to speak for the church in an official capacity. Anyone who wishes to is invited to visit www.churchofsatan.com for more information.
Now, let's get on with it!
Image Credit: Disney Channel (usage covered under fair use)
Orange you glad you watched Halloweentown?
When Aggie Cromwell and Marnie Piper are flying on Marnie’s first broom, Aggie reveals one of the most important lessons of Halloweentown when she says, “Magic is really very simple. All you’ve got to do is want something, and then let yourself have it!” The root of magic is desire born from strong emotional need. The last barrier to be broken down, then, is the subconscious taboo against ego gratification erected by thousands of years of spiritual doctrines. If you’re already in a place like Halloweentown, that should be no problem at all. However, Halloweentown’s Satanic qualities go much deeper than that. Hide the children!
First, a bit of background. Halloweentown is a Disney Channel original movie that came out in 1998 and has since become a cult classic; it ranks number nine of forty on Complex Magazine’s list of the best Disney Channel original movies, praising it as “a film that made the tensions between generations vividly real against the backdrop of a magic land that mostly isn’t ripped off from Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas.” The last part is particularly important given that Nightmare and Halloweentown were released a mere five years apart. (Nightmare was released in 1993.) But, the statement from Complex Magazine also brings up the crux of why Halloweentown is so engrossing: the imagery.
In his essay, “How to be a Sorcerer,” Anton LaVey writes, “Isolation, exclusivity, and uniqueness are the first requirements of being ‘different’ enough to be considered ‘supernormal.’” It can be argued that Halloweentown being released not so long after The Nightmare Before Christmas weakens it in the isolation category, but only so far as adults are concerned. Five years is an eternity for children, the target audience of both movies. Furthermore, I feel that Halloweentown more than makes up for whatever it lacks in isolation in the exclusivity and uniqueness categories.
Of Halloweentown itself, it is a total environment in classic Disney fashion (which Dylan alludes to in the film when he compares Benny to the animatronics at Disneyland). Reaching that tenebrous fane of spooky delights can only be accomplished by riding an interdimensional orange bus that only runs to the mortal world on Halloween. (It is implied that there are other places the bus can go from Halloweentown, but these are not mentioned in the film.) Denizens of Halloweentown who do not make it back before midnight in the mortal world are marooned there until next Halloween. However, Aggie does address that when she reveals that time goes slower in Halloweentown compared to the mortal world. “Two hours there could be two days here, or two weeks if we’re on vacation.” This serves to further encapsulate Halloweentown.
Upon entering the town proper, visitors find that there are entirely different standards of aesthetics in all forms, consistently inconsistent save for this one general rule: Halloweentown is Halloween on the largest scale possible, as if one couldn’t tell by the monolithic jack-o’-lantern at the center of the town which seems to have a role dubiously similar to New York’s Statue of Liberty. This is explained by Aggie when she tells the Piper children that Halloween on the mortal world came from mortals copying Halloweentown’s traditions. “Mortal see, mortal do,” she says. That quote, by itself, is another Satanic point in its implications for the practice of lesser magic.
For all its strangeness, however, Halloweentown does make concessions to the practical necessities of day-to-day life via a melding of the mundane and supernatural that, for the most part, is internally consistent. Much of this is explained when Aggie tells the Piper children about how Halloweentown came to be and that now the town’s residents can have jobs, children, and many of the other creature comforts of a “normal” life (including an excellent bowling league) because they don’t have to concern themselves with making war against superstitious mortals. My favorite example of this phenomenon is when Marnie, Dylan, and Sophie have to retrieve the sweat of a ghost and find out that ghosts lose excess weight by going into a steaming room located in Halloweentown’s gym; it combines two common things associated with the location (steaming rooms and weight loss) and adds magic to merge them into something that’s not expected but entirely keeping with the total environment.
The last thing I’d like to note in this category is the small talk that permeates Halloweentown. A few examples: Aggie and her friend Harriet talking about the headless shelter like it’s a mundane homeless shelter; the way the werewolf running the beauty salon chides his satyr apprentice (named Loki) about his technique on trimming a plant creature; and how the zombie broom salesman has a song and dance reminiscent of our world’s used car salesmen. This third example is an excellent segue into the next aspect of Halloweentown that has consonance with Satanic ideals.
The film is replete with examples of lesser magic, and entwined with this is another unwritten rule of Halloweentown: mortals influenced by Halloweentown act in accordance with their Demonic minority selves as the amount of influence increases; the same applies to denizens of Halloweentown coming to the mortal world, though it should also be noted that Halloweentown denizens influenced by the mortal world also become vicious. We’ll start with one of the bigger examples.
Kalabar is a warlock who is the mayor of Halloweentown. In a nutshell, he mostly embodies the gentleman warlock archetype described by Magister Dr. Robert Johnson in The Satanic Warlock, with the obligatory dash of occultist (this is Halloweentown, after all), and a hint of the romantic rake (small enough to keep things kid friendly, but visible enough to add some extra spice to a character who could easily become flat). Our first encounter with Kalabar is shortly after Aggie Cromwell and the Piper children arrive in Halloweentown. Aggie has already gone on her way, having no idea that her grandchildren followed her; Kalabar approaches the grandchildren at the central jack-o’-lantern. (Of note, also, is that the jack-o’-lantern isn’t lit.) Kalabar is groomed and dressed impeccably in a suit and tophat, and he carries a cane. Though his coat is a muted brown with a red undertone, a stable hue associated with autumn, it serves as a foundation for the high-profile orange and black accents that are more what one would expect from a well-known warlock (and Halloweentown as a whole). All in all, Kalabar’s appearance is best described as a Halloween-themed version of Gene Wilder’s Willy Wonka.
From the start, Kalabar is welcoming and affable, leading with a self-deprecating joke: "Well, hello there. I don't believe we've met. That means I'm in trouble. 'Cause the mayor is supposed to know everybody." He also plays another joke on Sophie where he pretends not to hear her before conjuring a lollipop out of his ear and offering it to her. Sophie politely refuses, obeying one of the cardinal rules of fairy tales in not accepting gifts offered by the Fey, and Kalabar lets the matter drop. Marnie, charmed by Kalabar’s magic, introduces herself next. Afterward, Kalabar, being the gentleman that he is and ignoring no one, uses a tap of his cane to get Dylan to introduce himself. It is at this point that Marnie touts her and her siblings’ status as Aggie Cromwell’s grandchildren. (One of Halloweentown’s throughlines is the power of the Cromwell bloodline. It could be that the name Cromwell is a reference to Oliver Cromwell, since we hear a reference to Aggie having been alive well before his time. However, I like to think that the name is a reference to Crom, worshiped by Conan the Barbarian, no matter how unlikely that case may be.) Kalabar immediately pieces together that Marnie, Sophie, and Dylan are Gwen’s children, and he asks if Gwen is with them. Marnie, having freshly escaped the clutches of her Halloween-hating mother, changes the topic by quickly saying that her and her siblings came here with Aggie and that they need to find her. Little does she know that she has given the film’s villain a few important pieces of information. His task complete, Kalabar exercises his power as mayor to send the children away to their grandmother’s house via the Psychic Cab driven by Benny. In this way, Kalabar is now alone to plot his next move knowing right where his opponents are all while maintaining his image as the nicest man in town. All in all, Kalabar only made two mistakes in this scene. The first is addressing Sophie as “soapy,” which continues throughout the film, much to her exasperation, and the second is being overly interested in the children’s mother.
The other notable interaction with Kalabar when he is playing the role of Halloweentown’s mayor comes when Gwen is in Kalabar’s office in attempt to get herself and her children back to the mortal world while the bus is down. Right as the Piper family enters, a bat in Kalabar’s office makes the classic cat-call whistle that appears in a panoply of classic cartoons, and Kalabar is immediately delighted to see Gwen. While talking with her, he puts the moves on her, and she pretty clearly falls for it; the whole interaction feels like they are reliving a part of their youth. Not too far into the scene, Kalabar takes a dead rose and magically restores it to vibrant red life as he presents it to her, to which she replies, “You always did let your magic do the talking.” And in a sense, that is true, but it’s not the whole truth, and it also shows a factor that balances the interactions between Halloweentown’s denizens.
Kalabar conjuring the rose certainly did say something, to be sure, but it paved the way for his point as opposed to being the point in and of itself. He goes on to ask Gwen out on a date and talk about how they could return to their old haunts. The reason this execution is so important is because Kalabar knows that Gwen is a witch and therefore capable of magic; she could conjure a red rose for herself if she really wanted to. As such, Kalabar had to use the more traditional forms of mating call, exercising wile and guile like humans have been doing since before we called ourselves humans. Ultimately, Kalabar’s attempt to woo Gwen failed not because of a lack of competence or charisma but rather because Gwen had her children to attend to; they anchored her to the here-and-now despite Kalabar thoroughly appealing to her ECI.
Nevertheless, this scene is a great object lesson in the balance mentioned above. In a world so inundated with the supernatural, the supernatural becomes mundane, making the capacity for interpersonal (and interspecies) interaction that much more important, especially given the diversity of Halloweentown’s population. A cyclops won’t respond to the same cues as a devil, nor will a devil respond to the same cues as a goblin. But, all of this is really more of the same orthodoxy that has been observed throughout human history: different human cultures have different cues for different things.
Speaking of goblins, however, there is one who features prominently in the film. His name is Luke. When we first meet Luke, he appears as a handsome young man with a bit of a punk aesthetic, and it’s clear that he’s about the same age as Marnie. What I spotted immediately, however, was his necklace; it’s a thinly disguised upside-down cross. That was my cue that Luke was on the villain’s side (a villain who has only been hinted at by this point in the movie). I also found the contrast between Luke’s biblical name and his necklace interesting; I feel that it gives a wanna-be Antichrist vibe, and I suppose my interest would also have something to do with the fact that I am a Satanist named Isaiah, but I digress.
The first thing Marnie is told about Luke is that he thinks he’s a big shot in Halloweentown; he quickly validates this when he approaches Marnie while she’s shopping for a broom and says, “I’m a big cheese around here,” among other things. Marnie comes back with a line about the cheese starting to stink. His false confidence lost, Luke blunders off, knocking down a nearby display of brooms and then fleeing, and the broom salesman comments about what a wiener Luke’s become since he was made to be better looking.
The next time we see Luke is when he approaches Aggie while she’s out in the streets alone (while Gwen and the Piper children are in Kalabar’s office). Aggie tries to shoo him away, knowing that she’s in for another bout of abrasive, blustering pretentiousness. But Luke goes on, telling Aggie that the one who is causing all of the problems wants to reveal himself to her, and he finishes off with a jab at the Cromwell bloodline’s courage that Aggie simply can’t resist. She and Luke go to the abandoned movie theater passed by earlier in the film where they find a whole host of Halloweentown’s residents who have been magically frozen, including Aggie’s friend Harriet (who in an earlier scene is shown to have turned vicious). This is when the villain, who seems to be a shadow demon, makes his first true appearance, and he gives a monologue about how Aggie is hopelessly outmatched and should just give up. Luke chimes in repeatedly and aggressively, but all he really does is poorly restate what has already been said. Even the villain tells Luke to just shut up. (At the climax, this villain is revealed to be Kalabar, and it can be argued that the shadow demon façade is a manifestation of Kalabar’s demonic self.)
That scene points out another wonderful contrast in Halloweentown. If Kalabar is the epitome of lesser magic, then Luke is the absolute lack of it. This doesn’t change until near the end of the movie, and not before Luke has to own up to three Satanic sins: stupidity, pretentiousness, and lack of perspective.
It can be argued that Luke’s stupidity is part and parcel of his lack of perspective and pretentiousness, or vice versa, but I feel it’s worth noting because it justifies the sheer depth of his failings. The trigger for Luke changing sides near the end of Halloweentown was his having believed that Kalabar wasn’t actually going to freeze Aggie, his greatest enemy, the same way he did to so many of Halloweentown’s other residents, nor did Luke realize that Kalabar wanted to conquer the mortal world until the big reveal at the end. Luke instead narrow-mindedly focused on wanting to be physically beautiful. More so, he focused on this despite the apparent lack of societal stigmas given that zombies are allowed to walk about freely and the werewolf barber appreciating that standards of beauty are different for every creature.
In the end, Luke returns to his goblin form at the end of the movie after Marnie puts Merlin’s talisman in the central jack-o’-lantern as a direct result of Luke’s aid. He certainly is uglier, but only in comparison to his previous appearances in the film. Also, too, Luke is shown to have a complete change of heart in accordance with Halloweentown’s rule about the apparent and the Demonic, for which Marnie rewards him with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to get in touch (now that she is actually going to be a witch).
However, even though Luke is Halloweentown’s biggest example of the Satanic sins, he is far from the only example. A close contender for pretentiousness is Marnie, who makes the mistake of assuming that she will automatically be good at witchcraft by virtue of being of the Cromwell bloodline, which she is quick to brag about despite the fact that she doesn’t successfully cast a spell by herself until the very end of the movie when she has nearly succumbed to Kalabar’s attacks. Marnie’s incantations are hyper-rational, and her voice trembles with uncertainty, thus failing to fulfill the prime requisite of magic. In her defense, however, Marnie’s failing is consistent with the rule I noted about Halloweentown’s influence.
I would place Marnie at about a ten o’clock on LaVey’s personality synthesizer; she has the body build and behavioral traits consistent with such. She bosses around her siblings and is especially quick to smack her younger brother Dylan when he makes an upstaging remark. (“Actually, she gets B’s and C’s. *I* get the A’s.”) Marnie even makes multiple attempts to supplant the authority of her mother, Gwen Piper, who is a straight twelve o’clock (maybe eleven-thirty) and a redhead to boot. As such, while in Halloweentown, Marnie takes on the characteristics of a four o’clock, her Demonic counterpart: intellectual, critical, abstract, and dour, and the receptivity and dedicated nature of her water element magnify these traits with a new emotional depth. She is dedicated to being a witch above all else, but she wants it so much that that is arguably why she continues to fail. (See the essay “Ravings From Tartarus” in The Devil’s Notebook.)
Sophie, on the other hand, is a natural, born witch in every sense of the word, and her biggest advantage over her older sister is that she is younger. In The Satanic Bible, LaVey writes about how children are natural magicians because they have not yet been conditioned out of their natural sense of wonder. Additionally, one of the concerns that Aggie expresses to Gwen at the beginning of Halloweentown is that of beginning Marnie’s training. Her natural power has already weakened to the extent that it will fade away entirely if she doesn’t begin her training before Halloween ends. (It is also noted that a witch’s thirteenth Halloween is supposed to mark the completion of her training, not the beginning.) Inversely, at this same point in the film, Sophie is shown to be growing into her power when she telekinetically takes a cookie off a plate after being refused by Gwen, and Gwen promptly eats the floating cookie in an ultimately vain attempt to conceal Sophie’s magic. In the absence of Aggie, it then falls upon Sophie to teach Marnie magic by the example of her child wonder, proving the truth of multiple concepts of Satanic magic in the process.
The first, and largest, is that wanting something to happen is significantly more important than the words used. This is shown when Sophie, rather than Marnie, opens the locked gate at Aggie’s house. Marnie was searching for the right words; Sophie just wished really hard that the lock would turn into a frog. LaVey’s line, “The harder one looks, the less he will find,” from his essay, “The Combination Lock Principle” is applicable here.
Another example of this is after Marnie makes the Witch’s Brew. (It is the first magical task she performs successfully by herself, but it’s notedly not a spell.) Marnie then can’t remember Aggie’s incantation, proceeding to butcher it twice. Sophie, however, memorized it by making it into a song, neither knowing the actual words nor caring what they’re supposed to mean; she felt the rhythm and applied her own meaning to it. Parallels regarding LaVey including the Enochian Keys in the Book of Leviathan are clear.
Next, since Sophie is not as rationally obsessed with Halloween as her older sister is, she is more emotionally stimulated by the spooky imagery all around, thus letting it work for her rather than her working for it. This increase in her magical power is especially important because by the time the Witch’s Brew is made, the threat to Halloweentown is in full swing, and so Marnie and Sophie’s attempt at the ritual is also the only one they have; the timing serves to intensify the desire.
Lastly, Sophie doesn’t get hung up on the fact that she is part of the most magical bloodline in Halloweentown, thus putting the balance factor in her favor because she isn’t bearing that psychic weight. Furthermore, she has the added ego boost of teaching her older (and supposedly more knowledgeable) sister about magic. While Marnie is correct in saying that spells are more powerful when multiple witches are involved (which is an easy Satanic parallel), this is parroted from Aggie, and it is Sophie who is the priestess; the spell simply wouldn’t have worked without her.
As such, even though it is Marnie who ultimately relights Halloweentown’s jack-o’-lantern with Merlin’s talisman, I hold that Sophie is the film’s Satanic heroine.
Now for the last of the Piper children: Dylan. Even though he is the middle child, I’ve saved him for last because he plays an entirely unique role, that of the chorus, and he exemplifies the importance of humor. It is part and parcel of children’s movies, particularly those made in the 1990’s and early 2000’s, to include jokes for the pleasure of adults that typically fly right over the heads of the younger, “intended” audience. This is based on a simple marketing axiom: even though the movie is aimed at children, it is the parents of those children who will actually be paying for the movie and inevitably viewing it as part of the standard family quality time ritual. Concessions must therefore be made. Besides, doesn’t everyone like a good wiener with their movie? Just ask Sophie!
But, aside from that seemingly innocent quip made by the youngest Piper child, the adult concessions primarily take form in Dylan’s lines. Of Dylan himself, he is around a three-thirty on the personality synthesizer, a bookish, ultrarational type who is quite passionate about academics and his intellectual interests. He is Weird Al’s “White and Nerdy” personified. Dylan’s primary throughline throughout Halloweentown is denying the existence of magic in its entirety as many adult viewers among the herd do in the real world (especially those of a Christian deception). Coupled with this is Dylan’s hyper-knowledge of the real world, which he uses to rationalize magical outcomes even once he is already in Halloweentown. The main reason he got on the bus in the first place despite his anti-magic stance was his real world obligation to protect Marnie, which is an example of “Responsibility to the responsible.”
My favorite scene with Dylan, which also showcases his role in the film, is when Aggie is telling him and his sisters a bedtime story. Aggie begins with, “My story is about a magical place where many different sorts of creatures live together in peace,” to which Dylan replies, “Like Cleveland?” When I first heard that joke, I laughed out loud for a good while. A nub of history on Cleveland: it was founded in 1796 and grew into a center of American industry, attracting a diverse population in the large numbers of immigrants and migrants. It is easy to see why Dylan would make such a comparison. I also want to point out that the joke is an excellent example of mental stratification as described in LaVey’s essay, “The Details Make the Difference” from Satan Speaks!. My stake in this is that I heard stories about what Cleveland was like during my childhood.
All of that said, Dylan is still a child and therefore possesses the wonder associated with that state of emotional innocence, which wins out at critical junctures throughout the film, culminating in him helping to cast the final spell that defeats Kalabar. This defeats his crusade of rationalizing against the existence of magic once and for all, and thus is an affirmation of the seventh Satanic Rule of the Earth.
The last point I want to make about Dylan is that his character was constructed very artfully in that he doesn’t break the fourth wall. It would have been easy to do, given that Dylan already talks for the audience, and it wouldn’t have been unjustifiable for a lower budget, made-for-TV kids’ film. (Filmsite.org lists the average film budget for a 1990’s film as being $53 million; Wikipedia lists Halloweentown as having a budget of a mere $4 million.) By not breaking the fourth wall via Dylan, however, Halloweentown maintains Halloweentown itself as a total environment; the only real breach of this is in the scene where the tooth fairy pulls a vampire’s fang, and the actress’s blacked out tooth can be seen underneath where there should be a gap. Still, that error is not enough to really break the film’s magic, and that magic is Halloweentown’s greatest triumph, especially given its budget.
Only two major characters remain: Gwen Piper and Aggie Cromwell. Aggie is a straight six o’clock apparent, fitting perfectly into the sentiment category of Satanic magic, which means that in the mortal world, she acts as a twelve o’clock. When she’s around the Piper children, she cheerfully asserts herself by making everything about Halloween and showing off what she can do with her magic. When she’s alone with Gwen, everything becomes about the Piper children and their relationship with Halloweentown (or lack thereof); conflict ensues as two twelve o’clocks collide.
Aggie is arguably the most Satanic character in Halloweentown (even with Sophie being named the Satanic heroine), and this is understandable given that Aggie is many centuries old at the time of the events of Halloweentown, with the majority of that time having presumably been spent in Halloweentown. So much time spent in such a stimulating total environment can’t help but increase one’s magical powers; parallels can certainly be drawn between Dr. LaVey and the Black House. Also, it is Aggie Cromwell who drives the plot either by her actions or absences. The Piper children going to Halloweentown in the first place is because of Aggie, first by her charming the children with her book about her home (which just happens to feature a flying witch who looks just like Marnie. I’ll admit that I don’t entirely see the resemblance, but the budget was only $4 million.) Then, after Aggie is dismissed by Gwen due to a violation of the third Satanic Rule of the Earth, she turns a liability into an advantage by using the time alone with Gwen as an opportunity to talk about the trouble in Halloweentown. This talk is conveniently overheard by Marnie, who has already been charmed and wants to hear anything and everything related to Aggie’s home. This, in turn, prompts the Piper children, led by Marnie, to sneak onto the bus while Aggie supposedly (again, conveniently) doesn’t notice. Thus, Aggie’s desire to get the children to Halloweentown is fulfilled in accordance with The Satanic Bible’s definition of magic.
Once in Halloweentown, we find that Aggie is in its upper strata by virtue of how so many of the residents recognize her name and admire her for her competence as a witch, which (haha!) is meritocracy in action. Aggie’s home is a total environment within Halloweentown (a total environment within a total environment); Kalabar notes that she’s lived in that home for two hundred years. Aggie moves the plot forward again with her failure in using the “instant” Witch’s Brew to relight Merlin’s talisman. Her disheartenment prompts Marnie to offer to help her make real Witch’s Brew, thus providing an opportunity to start Marnie’s training. When Aggie is frozen by Kalabar, her absence creates a vacuum that Marnie is eager to fill (but that Sophie is far more capable of delivering on), and the plot then becomes a matter of not just maintaining the general welfare of Halloweentown, but also of rescuing a beloved grandmother (and mother, since Gwen is frozen in the same scene).
In The Satanic Witch, Anton LaVey writes, “Respect based on accomplishment can only be given by those who are humble, wise, and themselves worthy of respect.” Aggie shows this when she is quick to lavish the Piper children with praise at the end of Halloweentown, and she also avoids solipsism by not assuming that Gwen’s opinion of Halloweentown will have changed despite everything that happened. Aggie is then pleasantly surprised with an invitation to come live in the mortal world with her family, with Gwen agreeing to finish Marnie’s training as a witch.
And now, we come to Gwen. There are a few things that make the mother of the Piper children an excellent foil for Aggie; the first is that Gwen is an apparent twelve o’clock with a Demonic six o’clock, a direct inverse of Aggie. The most blatant example of Gwen’s Demonic self is when she so easily falls for Kalabar’s flirting, refusing him only because she has to maintain her authority over her children. The next item is that Aggie and Gwen are both blood-related to the Piper children and have a major stake in their welfare. The third is that Gwen is seemingly as ensconced in the mortal world as Aggie is in Halloweentown. The reason for this is that Gwen married a mortal and chose to live as one. Perhaps the last notable (un)Satanic aspect of Gwen is how she exemplifies the sin of forgetting past orthodoxies, shown in her vehement denial of all things related to Halloween despite having once called Halloweentown home.
In the end, however, because Disney movies all have happy endings, Gwen comes around to Aggie’s point of view and starts using magic again, catalyzed by spellcasting being a practical and flashy tool for her to assert her authority and overcome Halloweentown’s challenges.
Now that I’ve covered Halloweentown’s major characters, the last thing that remains is the plot. Kalabar’s goal of Halloweentown conquering the mortal world is an excellent example of stratification in that the strong (the magically capable and intellectually cunning denizens of Halloweentown) would be ruling over the weak (“Mortal see, mortal do.”). The counter to this is that it could be classified as forgetting the past orthodoxy that mortals once hunted the creatures of Halloweentown. The only way to prove this one way or the other would be allowing Kalabar to attempt to put his plan to action; as The Satanic Bible says, “Victory is the basis of right.” Also of note is that Kalabar doesn’t inflict physical harm to the denizens of Halloweentown who are captured by him. He instead puts them under a freezing spell (told by Aggie as she herself is becoming frozen). Part of this can be chalked up to a desire to keep Halloweentown appropriate for all ages, but in honoring Halloweentown itself as a total environment, I’ll argue that it is consistent with Kalabar’s character, even as a villain, to not want to hurt the residents of his town. He is still the mayor, after all, and he legitimately believes that his plan will improve their lives. I would also go so far as to argue that Kalabar even feels pity for the residents of Halloweentown who oppose him due to their inability to see his vision. The only example from the movies that supports this is Kalabar referring to Halloweentown as a “second-class world” compared to the mortal one. I’ll admit that it is a lukewarm (pun intended) example given what Halloweentown has, is, and is capable of. Furthermore, right when the Piper children get on the bus, we hear laments from monsters about how mortals don’t find the denizens of Halloweentown scary anymore due to the now-ubiquitous T.V. So, with the mortal world so far removed from the monsters’ emotional crystallizations and the strong already ruling over the weak in having removed themselves from mortal parasites entirely, what is the purpose of Halloweentown conquering the mortal world?
To make the magical film known as Halloweentown, of course. I end with words from the Electric Hellfire Club: “Come on baby, take a chance with us. Take a little ride on the black orange bus.”
Like this essay? Support my endeavors with a donation to either my Ko-Fi page (https://ko-fi.com/zeragabaalkhal) or my PayPal (burt.isaiah@gmail.com).
Other works of mine:
Diabolical Ascension: https://talesofvalorandwoe.wixsite.com/zeragabaalkhal/post/diabolical-ascension-i-awakening
My short story anthology "Darkness & Glory," set in the same mythos, can be found here:
My novella, Legacy of Flames: https://preview.drivethrurpg.com/en/product/421383/legacy-of-flames
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