Halloween Candy

Cast View all

	Molly Gazay	Liza
	Amber Leanne Rothberg	Candee
	Sam Bass	Tim
	Fred Bonheim	Kevin
	Molly Farrell-Savage	Jenna McKenna
	Karen Gonillo	Brie Daly
	Beckett Guest	Chase
	Alexis Hannan	Jenny
	Joe Grit$	John
	Tom Lazur	Stu
	Nathaniel Lee	Burt
	Sara Lynn	Marcy
	Evy McIntosh	Hannah
	Debbie Melkonian	Jenn Breaking
	Shino Nakamichi	Sam
	Joe Nemchek	Mr. Robastelli
	Mike Pirozzi	Gary
	Amber Plomitallo	Little Witch
	Zachary Plomitallo	Court Jester
	Grace Quilliam	Lindsay
	Mellodye Ragin	Missy
	Analisa Robertson	Nancy
	James Robertson-Russo	Vampire
	Jenna Rose	Mercedes
	Charles F. Rosenay	Jason

Crew View all

Director	Douglas A. Plomitallo
Writer	Douglas A. Plomitallo
Producer	Robert Sciglimpaglia
Musician	Ryan WIlliams
Photography	Isaiah Providence

Edition details

Personal

Notes

My quick rating - 2.6/10. With a name like Halloween Candy, I was hoping for a sweet, sugary bite of terror but it mostly left me gnawing on stale nougat. Molly Gazay stars as Liza, a recently divorced writer spending her first Halloween alone, and she’s desperate for inspiration. Luckily for her (and us, unfortunately), a parade of trick-or-treaters stops by, inspiring a series of spooky tales that make up this anthology of mild horrors. I like the premise, but like a bag of discount candy corn, most of it just tastes the same.

The first story, “Halloween House,” kicks things off with a crooked haunted house owner whose shady business practices come back to bite him—sorta. The setup promises something nasty, but the payoff is more “light nibble” than “savage mauling.” There’s a shootout (off-screen), a few blood droplets, and the vague sense that maybe the director wanted to go home early. Still, it’s passable if you fill in all the other stuff they could've done with it. (2)

Next up is “Predator,” a tale about a wolf-costumed kid and a creepy stranger that doubles as an after-school special for overprotective parents. It’s a reminder that stranger danger still sells, even if the execution here feels like it was filmed during a lunch break. By now, Liza’s already deep into her bottle of inspiration juice, and honestly, who can blame her? (2)

Then we get “Talking to the Dead,” where a group of teen drinkers decide it’s a good idea to contact their deceased friend via séance. Spoiler: it’s not. This one gets a few unintentional laughs thanks to some hilariously awkward dialogue and a budget séance setup. IF you have a good imagination, you can fill in what happens since they don't bother showing us. Still, it tries to say something about guilt and loss. The problem is, it mostly just says, “Please don’t drive drunk.” (2)

Just when you think things can’t get weirder, “Pumpkin Night” lumbers in. There’s pumpkin carving, grief flashbacks, and acting so wooden it might as well have been carved too. It’s not terrible enough to be funny, but not good enough to care about either. And yet… I kind of respected the effort. A little. Okay, barely. (3)

“Coronaween” attempts to resurrect COVID horror five years too late. It’s a tone-deaf, low-effort reminder that not every global trauma needs a sequel. By this point, I was rooting for the virus. And then, like a light at the end of the candy bag, “A Killer Date” arrives — a short with actual tension, a twist that kind of works, and some blood that doesn’t look like ketchup. A Halloween miracle. (2) (4)

Finally, the wraparound story comes full circle with Liza’s last visitor — a creepy clown who ties everything together in a finale that’s more confusing than cathartic. Still, kudos for the practical gore and trying to make it count. Halloween Candy may not rot your teeth, but it will test your patience. Not quite a trick, not quite a treat — just a middle-of-the-road bite from the bottom of the bag. (3)

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