Despite the date on this post, I celebrated Halloween yesterday thanks to international time zones, though it's clear that the holiday really hasn't caught on in New Zealand yet. I went out and specially brought a bag of Kit-Kats in anticipation of trick-or-treaters, and do you want to know how many turned up at my door?
None.
In a way I suppose it's a good thing, as I've never understood the logic of teaching children not to take candy from strangers, only to set them loose once a year to do exactly that – but I was all prepared for the occasion, and am now forced to withstand the siren call of chocolate in my fridge before I can foist it all onto someone else.
But as I do every year, I re-watched Tim Burton's Sleepy Hollow, one of my favourite spooky movies of all time. The atmosphere, the suspense, the characterization – I know it's not considered Burton's best by a long shot (in fact, many consider it the first sign of his waning talent as a director), but it was the first horror movie I ever saw on the big-screen and I've loved it ever since.
