Is Halloween the most romantic holiday of the year?

For the Halloween Kills cast, love is certainly in the air—including some childhood crush confessions! It turns out that ’80s icon Anthony Michael Hall hilariously revealed that he’s been in awe of co-stars Jamie Lee Curtis and Kyle Richards since the franchise’s first film premiered in 1978.

“I remember Kyle,” Hall joked during E! News’ Daily Pop on Thursday, Oct. 14. “I had a crush on her and Jamie Lee when I was little. I remember watching Kyle when I was a kid in Disney movies. She was a great lady to work with. She had a real gung-ho attitude.”

Meanwhile, Richards returned to the root of her fears from the “terrifying” Halloween set. “This is why I have anxiety!” The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills star quipped.

And even Curtis had a few unexpected surprises for Kills, stepping back into the iconic final girl role of Laurie Strode.

“Laurie is a wounded warrior and therefore she can’t fight for herself because she’s hurt,” Curtis summed up.

Curtis continued, “She has to turn to her daughter [played by Judy Greer] and granddaughter to fight for her, which was not what her plan was.”

Watch the full interview above to hear why the Strode ladies “don’t f––k around”!

Halloween Kills premieres Friday, Oct. 15 in theaters and will be available to stream on Peacock.

  • Hall spoke to Insider and revealed how The Brat Pack in the 1980s was nothing but a media ploy.
  • He also spoke about his role in “Halloween Kills,” out Friday.
  • Hall also shared how he regrets not taking the lead in “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.”

When Anthony Michael Hall burst into Hollywood, he quickly became known as the baby-faced sarcastic teen in the John Hughes movies, “Sixteen Candles and “The Breakfast Club.”

It led to instant stardom and an official membership into the beloved 1980s clique, The Brat Pack – the label used in a famous New York Magazine profile in 1985 for the actors who starred in “The Breakfast Club” and “St. Elmo’s Fire.”

But today Hall looks back on all that attention with nothing more than an eye-roll. Don’t get him wrong: He loved the films he starred in, he told Insider, but the idea that he, Molly Ringwald, Judd Nelson, Emilio Estevez, Ally Sheedy, Demi Moore, Rob Lowe, and Andrew McCarthy ever hung out together is a tabloid-induced dream.

“It didn’t exist,” Hall told Insider of the famous group.

It took decades for Hall to run out The Brat Pack label, but when he did he resurfaced as a respected character actor giving impressive performances in such movies as “The Dark Knight,” “Foxcatcher,” and “War Machine.” Now Hall, 53, has nabbed a meaty role as one of the leads in “Halloween Kills.”

In the sequel to the 2018 “Halloween” release, Hall plays the adult version of Tommy Doyle, the young boy, who in the original 1978 “Halloween,” is terrorized by Michael Myers alongside his babysitter, Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis). In “Kills,” he leads the town in an uprise against Myers.

Hall chatted with Insider about being part of the beloved franchise, sets the record straight about what The Brat Pack actually was, and explains why he regrets not taking the lead in the 1980s classic “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.”

Hall said The Brat Pack never existed

In the past decade-plus you have really turned into a reliable character actor compared to your superstardom as a kid. Has that been intentional?

I have always had this workman’s attitude about it. I always knew when I was a kid that I wanted longevity so you don’t often have the luxury of “what part am I playing” or selecting things. So yeah, I just have tried to mix it up.

But even when I was a kid and doing the John Hughes movies and doing one year on “SNL,” I was never in a clique. I never benefited from being in a gang in Hollywood –

Alright, hold on. Hold on. You cannot say you were never in a clique. You were in the clique that started all cliques in modern-day Hollywood. You were a part of the Brat Pack.

Okay, here we go. It didn’t exist. It was a media ploy. Whoever was the editor of New York Magazine at the time, it was a set up. “Let’s get all these guys together and get them talking shit.” The truth is in that time frame, I was at the very young end of that group. I was literally still in high school. When we did “The Breakfast Club,” Emilio and Judd were in their early 20s and they are going out and having beers and I was a teen. So when they did that article I did feel that was a ploy to get all them yapping.

Fellow Brat Packer Andrew McCarthy has said he’s never met you. Is that true?

Yeah. I have never met him.

So my whole childhood has been a lie, thinking all of you were hanging out in the 1980s.

[Laughs.] And I also think audiences want the actors that they watch together in projects to be actually connected in life. They expect that. People will be like, “How are Emilio and Judd?” And I’m like, “I don’t know. I haven’t seen them in 14 years.”

Hall regrets passing on ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day’ off when John Hughes wrote the role for him

Which role do you regret not taking the most: Ferris Bueller or Duckie in “Pretty in Pink?”

Hughes wrote Ferris for me. I was busy with other work so I wasn’t able to do Ferris. It turned out to be the biggest hit he had at that time. And I thought it was a great movie for [Matthew] Broderick and for John [Hughes].

Ducky was also written for me. What happened was when I was a kid, John really wanted me to do both of those projects. To be very frank with you, he was offended and was hurt that I didn’t do the roles and we started to lose touch after that.

It’s one of the saddest things of my life because I loved the guy. He was a big brother to me. I spent a lot of personal time with him. I was his third kid. Back in the day when we did those films, I would hang out with him, and his wife, and two kids, so I was their third son in a way. I had a real close relationship with John.

Did it hurt you that he didn’t understand you wanted to spread your wings beyond him?

You have to remember, he wrote all these movies and there was a high level of sensitivity, almost like he still was a teenager in some regards because he would take things very personal.

If you could have talked to him before he passed away in 2009, which role would you say to him you should have done?

It would be Ferris because what I felt reading “Pretty in Pink” was it felt like a reboot of “Sixteen Candles.” The girl wants the handsome kid and the dorky kid is after her. To me it was replicating “Sixteen Candles.” But I thought there was a real uniqueness to Ferris. I thought that would have been a lot of fun.

If you think back at “Sixteen Candles” – that scene where I’m with the prom queen and I crash the Rolls-Royce and I break the fourth wall and I look into the camera? There’s the basis for Ferris. We discovered on set together. He would see that would work and that led to him creating a character like Ferris, who is always breaking the fourth wall.

Hall said he learned Paul Rudd was excited he was playing Tommy Doyle

So what is your take on Tommy, the repeated survivor in the “Halloween” franchise? Is he a good guy in your eyes?

I totally think so. [“Halloween Kills” director] David Gordon Green gave me this hero’s part, which is incredible. A lot has been said about this mob mentality in the film and the fact that with all the societal issues that have happened in the past few years since this movie was made, it’s almost like life is imitating art.

Is it different watching it now compared to when you made it due to the world being so crazy since then? The riot in the hospital has this feel of the Capitol riots.

Yeah, but it’s all happenstance.

I know the Blumhouse movies are ignoring the “Halloween” sequels that have been made, but did you do a deep dive into how Tommy is portrayed in other Halloween movies?

Honestly, I love what you said. I did none of that. [Laughs.] But I was taken off guard by one thing: A couple of weeks into the shoot, David texted me and said he got a call from Paul Rudd and he was excited I was playing the part. So I did get the blessing from one past Tommy Doyle.

Here are some bonus thoughts and stories about John Hughes that didn’t make it into my V.F. feature on the man, “Sweet Bard of Youth,”—courtesy of the stars of his celebrated teen films of the 1980s. Plus: A selection of short stories by Hughes and photographs of items in his archives.

FEBRUARY 10, 2010

Molly Ringwald, star of Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, and Pretty in Pink.

Anthony Michael Hall, star of Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, and Weird Science.

Matthew Broderick, star of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.

Edie McClurg, character actress in six Hughes movies; best known as Grace, the school secretary in Ferris Bueller’s Day Of

On getting to know Hughes:

Ringwald: I remember the first thing that I saw of him—I didn’t know what he looked like; I didn’t know anything—were his tennis shoes. He was really into sneakers. It was not what I really thought of as a film director. His hair was spiky. He looked kind of relatable to me.

Broderick: He had his own cool. He was not a nerd. He had cool glasses, a cool haircut—well, it might not look so good now.

McClurg: That hairdo he had, the mullet? He did it ‘cause it kept him young. I just thought that was really kind of sweet!

Ringwald: Every director I had worked with up to that point was significantly older. I didn’t expect anybody that was sort of young and cool, like him. John definitely didn’t feel like a parent to me. He rarely ever felt like an authority figure. But I wouldn’t say, exactly, that he felt like he was the same age, either. I feel like he was different than anybody else in my life, before or since. I feel like we sort of mutually idealized each other from the get-go.

Broderick: Molly was much younger than me; I felt much more old and rotten than her. My soul had already been seen into by Neil Simon and Harvey Fierstein. [Broderick had appeared onstage in New York in the former’s Brighton Beach Memoirs and the latter’s Torch Song Trilogy.] So I didn’t need a mentor. However, in some unconscious way, I do think that John saw into me. I mean, the way that movie has held on, and the fact that I am called Ferris Bueller very often when I walk on the streets—or if, God forbid, I go to a baseball game.

Hall: Though I’d been in Vacation, I didn’t meet John until the auditions for Sixteen Candles. Those were on 57th Street and Park Avenue, at Universal’s New York offices. I think that what he saw in me maybe was something of himself—that I was a funny kid. I remember thinking “This script is so cool and funny!” With every successive audition or callback, there were more executives in the room. Then they’d start pairing us—me, with, you know, Haviland Morris, who played Jake’s girlfriend. I could sense, “I must be getting this part!” I was a little dull then: “After seven or eight auditions, I think I should have this wrapped up!”

On making movies with Hughes, and his embrace of actor input:

Hall: Cut to the experience of making Sixteen Candles. It was beautiful. We went on location in Skokie, Illinois. Suddenly I’m plopped down in the Midwest with my aunt, who was my guardian; my mother was working back in New York. From the very beginning, it was magical. The whole experience of making those films transcended even what they mean to people.

Ringwald: If you wanted to change something or make it your own, John completely encouraged it. Subsequently, when I’ve worked with other writer-directors, they get so precious about every single line, you can’t change anything. There was none of that with John—he was so free.

Hall: For example, there’s a line I wrote in Breakfast Club, where I’m asked why I would get a fake ID. I say, “So I can vote!” I made that up.

McClurg: We went through that line about how popular Ferris was—“The sportos and motorheads, geeks, sluts, bloods, wastoids, dweebies, dickheads … They all adore him! He’s a righteous dude!” The “righteous dude” line was mine, added in the audition.

Hall: The word “dweebie”? Gotta credit Judd Nelson for that. I was on the Breakfast Club set when he ad-libbed that. I think Judd’s responsible for that being part of our vernacular: him yelling, “You’re a neo-maxi-zoom-dweebie!” I remember John laughing.

Broderick: It was extremely pleasing to make John laugh. He had a quiet, very real, uncontrollable laugh: an eyes-closed, head-half-down, bent-over-quiet thing.

McClurg: My character in Ferris Bueller was a woman who’s a secretary in the high school. This is in the 80s. So I decided that maybe my hairdo would be 60s, because Grace felt she looked best in the 60s and kept her look from that era. So I went into hair and makeup in the morning and said, “I’d like a big bubble hairdo.” They had hired a guy who I think was Mia Sara’s blowout guy. He didn’t know anything about setting hair. So I said, “I’ll just do it myself.” I just teased it up, all the way out, sprayed it, and then gave it a big bubble.

I arrived on the set with this hairdo. And John looked at me and said, “How many pencils do you think you can fit in that hair?” I said, “I don’t know. Let’s see!” So we put one in. I looked down; nothing came out. I put another one in. I looked down; nothing came out. And the third; nothing came out. Fourth: then it finally dropped. I said, “I can hold three.” He said, “O.K., let’s start that way.” And that’s my intro in the film.

Broderick: Ferris’s singing “Danke Schoen” in the shower was my idea, I think. Although it’s only because of the brilliance of John’s deciding that I should sing “Danke Schoen” on the float in the parade. I had never heard the song before. I was learning it for the parade scene. So we’re doing the shower scene and I thought, “Well, I can do a little rehearsal.” And I did something with my hair to make that Mohawk. And you know what good directors do: they say, “Stop! Wait till we roll.” And John put that stuff in.

McClurg: John encouraged me to improvise. In Planes, Trains & Automobiles, I do that scene at the rental-car counter with Steve Martin, where I’m talking on the phone and putting up my finger, making him wait longer. John said, “Talk about Thanksgiving.” So I said, [singsongy midwestern accent] “Well, you know, we’re gonna get Mom up so she can get the turkey on!” And then I put in: “We gotta keep Uncle Billy away from the bourbon and ginger, or he’s gonna get into the virgin birth with Father, and we can’t have that.” Now, John was Protestant, so he didn’t understand how funny that was to Catholics. He cut that part out.

On Hughes’s love of music:

Ringwald: Music played a huge part in his life and a huge part on the soundtracks of his movies. And I really loved music as well. It wasn’t just him making mix tapes for me; I made mix tapes for him, too. One of my favorite things to do when I was doing movies in Chicago would be to go to his office at his house and go through his record collection. He just had masses and masses of records and all this incredible equipment. Things like the Beatles or the Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan—that was all introduced to me by John.

Hall: In his house, he had a room with rows of 12-inches everywhere, stacked like a mom-and-pop record store. Literally thousands of albums, with just a little path to the door.

Broderick: He would take you into this room with a beautiful stereo and a TV that, for the time, was really fancy. I remember that he had the stereo components built into the wall. I was like [impressionable-teen voice], “Wow! How do they make a hole in the wall where that fit in?!”

Hall: There’s a scene in The Breakfast Club between the principal and the janitor, Paul Gleason and John Kapelos, where one asks, “Who’d you want to be when you grow up?” and the other says, “John Lennon.” I think that was really John to some extent. He was such a Beatles fan.

Ringwald: When The Breakfast Club ended, he started writing a script called Lovecats, because I played him that song by the Cure, “The Lovecats.” I was obsessed by the Cure—still am. I think Robert Smith is an underrated songwriter. Anyway, I played this song for John, and he started writing a script, and he gave me a mix tape of what the soundtrack was gonna be. Which was pretty much Dave Brubeck, with the last song by Bob Dylan.

Hall: At one point when we were doing The Breakfast Club, John had an idea for a movie called The Last Good Year. It was something that he pitched to me as something he wanted to do with me, about the last good year being 1962, before the Beatles’ invasion. Maybe it was a sarcastic title. The idea was, I think, that the cultural shift was significant to him—the crossover in time from Pat Boone America to Beatles America. He didn’t have too many of the story elements worked out, but, man, did he have a mix tape put together.

On life after Hughes:

Hall: When I was doing Weird Science, I got a call from my agent on a Wednesday, saying, “Stanley Kubrick is interested in you for a role in his Vietnam drama that he’s doing, Full Metal Jacket.” Got a call back on a Friday saying, “Well, now he wants you for the lead, as Private Joker. He’s gonna call you tomorrow.”

All I can compare this to is waiting for Oz to call. The stories preceded him: his privacy, living in London, sort of extricating himself from Hollywood, all that shit. I was shaking in my boots. The phone rings. Stanley Kubrick gets on and says, “I want you to know: I just screened Sixteen Candles three times … and you’re my favorite actor since I saw Jack in Easy Rider!” I’m like, “Whaaa? Am I fucking hearing this?”

The long and short of it was, it was such a drawn-out, wild process of negotiating with Kubrick, via his attorneys, that it had a real effect on my family. [Hall ultimately withdrew from the negotiations.] But my point in telling this story is, had I not had this collaboration with this great guy, I never would have gotten that call from Kubrick. I received the greatest compliment of my life, and I owe that to John Hughes.

Ringwald: John really idealized me. I don’t know if I ever would have been able to do an adult movie with him. I just wish that I could have sort of gotten through to him more. I feel like he didn’t know how much I valued him: as a person, as this incredible force in my life. I think we would have gotten along so well as adults. Part of this is my fault; I feel like I should have followed up with him more.

Hall: I had done the three films with him, and I felt like I wanted to grow: you know, the mind-set of an 18-year-old kid. I didn’t know what it was all about yet. Maybe that was something he never forgave me for.

I never knew why we weren’t able to reconnect. I did this TV film about 10 years ago where I played Bill Gates [the 1999 movie Pirates of Silicon Valley, also starring Noah Wyle as Steve Jobs], and I wanted to invite him to a screening in Chicago; I wanted to get together with him. I left messages numerous times with his company, to no avail.

Ringwald: I always thought that we would have some sort of follow-up discussion or something. And that’s one of the reasons his death was so painful to me, because that didn’t happen. I’m really grateful that I did write him this letter [in 1994, when Ringwald was living in Paris], and that he did receive it. He sent a note and flowers, so that was something. The flowers were so John, so over-the-top. Huge.

Broderick: We did stay in touch for a while. We thought about a sequel to Ferris Bueller, where he’d be in college or at his first job, and the same kinds of things would happen again. But neither of us found a very exciting hook to that. The movie is about a singular time in your life.

There was no falling-out with us, no fight. He just … stopped being around, is the best way I can describe it. There were a couple of “almost” things. I almost did another script he wrote, which I now regret. But he was very easy to talk to for an hour and a half on the phone, even if you had not spoken in three years.

On Hughes’s death last August:

Hall: A lot happened to me last summer. My own father died on June 14. And then John. It connects to a thought I had about my father for years. It’s like, sometimes, people’s silence—their distance—is their gift to you, in a way. John, whatever his reasons were—none of us know, really. I only ever met my father once. But it was the same thing: why would he abandon all these people? I don’t know. Maybe I used it as some sort of psychological justification for not knowing him: someone’s absence is their gift to you.

Ringwald: I had just had my twins, on July 10. I think somebody sent me a text or something, and it said, “I’m so sorry about John Hughes.” Immediately, I Googled “John Hughes” and found out that he had died. I was kind of in shock. I’m still kind of in shock about it. I mean, I feel like I’ve made my peace with him, but [beginning to cry] … but it does made me really sad.

Broderick: When he died, I had a horrible feeling of a punch in the gut, even though I hadn’t seen him in so long. Because it was a large part of me, or my life, that was gone.

I saw John’s family at the funeral. My impression was not of somebody who withdrew from Hollywood or thought, “O.K., you don’t want me.” It wasn’t like an exile. It looked more like a very full life that he loved, a whole full second act that I didn’t know anything about—it’s the life that Ferris Bueller’s parents have, in a way. He had to sort of return to who he was, which was a guy from a well-to-do suburban neighborhood in Chicago.

David Kamp is a Vanity Fair contributing editor.