by Chris Sama ’27 on October 30, 2025

---

Sports

---

#10 Victor Wembanyama: Slenderman

In 2023, Victor Wembanyama showed up as the fictional character Slenderman to the Footprint Center in Phoenix to play against the Phoenix Suns on Halloween. He put up 18 points, eight rebounds, and four blocks for the San Antonio Spurs, who won 115–114 against the Suns when Keldon Johnson stole the ball from Kevin Durant and scored a contested layup with 1.2 seconds left in the game.

#9 Steph Curry: “Billy” from Saw

On Oct. 29, 2017, Steph Curry arrived at Oracle Arena on a tricycle dressed up as the puppet Billy from the movie Saw. The Golden State Warriors faced off against the Detroit Pistons and lost 115–107. Curry played well, shooting 11/17 from the field and putting up 27 points, eight assists, and six rebounds.

#8 Lebron James: Jason Voorhees

In 2018, Lebron James showed up in a Jason Voorhees costume before the Los Angeles Lakers faced off against the Dallas Mavericks on Halloween. The Lakers won 114–113 at home, and Lebron put up 29 points, six assists, and three steals.

#7 Giannis Antetokounmpo: The Hulk

In 2023, Giannis Antetokounmpo wore a Hulk costume in a post-game conference after the Milwaukee Bucks played against the Miami Heat on Oct. 30. The Bucks beat the Heat 122–114 at home, and Giannis put up 33 points, seven rebounds, and two assists.

#6 Damian Lillard: Stone Cold Steve Austin

In 2018, Damian Lillard showed up in a Stone Cold Steve Austin costume before the Portland Trailblazers played the Washington Wizards in Oregon on Oct. 22. The Wizards beat the Trailblazers 125–124, and Lillard put up 29 points, eight rebounds, and eight assists.

#5 Paul George: Waldo

On Halloween in 2023, Paul George dressed up as Waldo from the “Where’s Waldo”? cartoon puzzle sketch series before and after the LA Clippers played the Orlando Magic in Los Angeles. The Clippers won 118–102 against the Magic, and George put up 27 points, seven assists, and seven rebounds.

#4 JJ Redick: Emmet from The Lego Movie

On Halloween in 2019, JJ Redick dressed up as Emmet from The Lego Movie before the Denver Nuggets played the New Orleans Pelicans in Louisiana. The Pelicans beat the Nuggets 122–107, and Redick put up seven points, two assists, and two rebounds.

#3 Pascal Siakam: Andre 3000

In 2024, Pascal Siakam dressed up as Andre 3000 the day after the Indiana Pacers played the Boston Celtics in Indiana on Oct. 30. The Pacers beat the Celtics in OT 135–132, and Siakam won the game, scoring a three-pointer with 6.1 seconds left. Siakam put up 29 points, 11 rebounds, and five assists.

#2 JaVale McGee: The Grinch

In 2018, JaVale McGee showed up dressed as the Grinch before the Los Angeles Lakers faced off against the Dallas Mavericks on Halloween, the same game when LeBron dressed up as Jason. The Lakers won 114–113 at home, and McGee put up a double-double with 16 points, 15 rebounds, and one assist.

#1 Jordan Clarkson: Jack Skellington

On Halloween in 2022, Jordan Clarkson dressed up as Jack Skellington from the movie The Nightmare Before Christmas when the Utah Jazz played the Memphis Grizzlies. The Jazz won 121–105 against the Grizzlies, and Clarkson put up 11 points, seven rebounds, and seven assists.

by Riley Linehan ’29 on October 30, 2025

---

Portfolio

---

The little boy walks where the light refuses to go, 
Where he finds his friends waiting for him. 
He hears whispers that slip between walls, 
Words meant for no one else. 
He speaks back softly, 
As if they were mirrors of a life he has yet to live. 

He once laughed when the shadows danced around his ankles, 
Thinking they were playing along. 
But now he listens to their secrets and follows their demands, 
Because someone must. 
The other children don’t play with him; 
They don’t understand. 
They only see a boy in the dark.

At night, he whispers to the shadows, 
And they whisper back.
Perhaps he is not the boy who speaks to shadows, 
But the boy who sees what no one else can.

The shadows do not answer today. 
He wonders if they ever will, 
Or if they ever have. 
Or has he been speaking to his own lost innocence all along?

by Hanna Boudreau ’28 on October 30, 2025

---

Portfolio

---

Frankenstein’s creature was born not from dust,
but from trembling hands that feared their own genius.
The spark of life given to him was like the fire
which Prometheus stole from the heavens.
And oh, what destruction
the kidnapped, red flower has caused,
by stirring the flesh which should have stayed sleeping.
All caused by a twisted creator who could not handle
the resemblance of his man-made Adam.

The creature’s first sight was the break of day.
The sunlight’s beams were cast down upon his dark fate.   
He reached toward it,
as a child does toward a mother’s face.
But there was no mother,
only the echo of a heartbeat that was not his own.
Skin of pale-yellow corruption,
stretched thin as the veil between the living
and the dead.
His hair flowed down his back,
like dripping ink or the tail feathers of a raven.
His innocent eyes were searching…
And looked upon all things with wonder.

How strange that beauty and horror
can share the same breath.
And in a single fallen leaf,
which he had lifted from the earth,
he saw his own life in its fragile green veins.
The lines drawn of a god who had forgotten his creation.

Once, by the river, he had seen a child
and wished to share with her the leaf’s soft miracle.
For a moment the creature felt as though he belonged.
But when his leathery hand lowered her into the river,
she did not float—
the gentle giant did not understand.

by Grace Batsie ’28 on October 30, 2025

---

Portfolio

---

It feels like I’m being bewitched,
Something pulling me in,
Something stitched.

It feels like you are always around,
Dancing with a flame,
Getting bound.

It feels like I’m under your spell,
Assuaging my fears,
Nothing left to quell.

It feels like your arms are around me,
Keeping me safe,
Letting me be.

It feels like there is some force
That is pushing me to you
With no remorse.

It feels like I’m being bewitched,
Something pulling me in,
Some glitch,
Something stitched.

by Rachel Barter ’27 on October 30, 2025

---

Opinion

---

I know it is not a popular opinion to have, but Halloween is my least favorite holiday, and it has lost its magic for me.

I don’t like Halloween, probably because I am cut off from trick-or-treating, which was my favorite part of the holiday. However, I also think it is due to the increasingly elaborate expectations of Halloween costumes, especially in college. I feel like there is pressure to create original and elaborate individual costumes or even group costumes. Thus, without trick-or-treating and creative ideas, I often feel at a loss for how to celebrate Halloween every year. 

This is all without mentioning that Halloween in college is associated with excessive drinking, which seems to be heightened at Providence College. Furthermore, even if I had good Halloween ideas or even a couple of bad ones, there is a lot of pressure at PC to have a different costume for every Halloween festivity, especially for women, which adds up.

Despite my ill-will towards Halloween, which has been festering for quite some time, I want to rediscover the beauty of Halloween while I am still in college, given the importance placed on Halloween during this time. Perhaps next year I will dip my toes in the Halloween pond by carving a pumpkin, who knows where I will display its rotting carcass after, and roasting the seeds as well as using the “guts” to make homemade pumpkin goods. 

Maybe I will bake those classic pumpkin chocolate cookies and pass them out to my friends like reverse trick-or-treating, or perhaps I will have an epiphany about what creative or boring costume I should wear using mostly clothes that I already have. 

Or maybe I will continue to celebrate Halloween in the most lackluster ways, such as eating Halloween-branded candy, taking advantage of holiday goodies (especially pumpkin ones), or admiring fall-scented candles in store aisles. 

Realistically, I will visit the Roger Williams Park Zoo during their fall and Halloween-inspired events, such as their Jack-O-Lantern Spectacular, which gives me just enough of my Halloween fix.

by Kaelynd Brouillette ’29 on October 30, 2025

---

Opinion

---

Halloween has undeniably always been the best holiday. Childhood Halloweens were magical. Between the chilly fall air, the crunchy leaves, and going door-to-door with your pillowcase collecting candy, the environment was absolutely perfect. Halloween looks a little different now that we are in college, as the holiday still has its magic, but in a different way. It now revolves around costume coordination over group chats, “Halloweekened” culture, and partying the weekend away. Although this is not a bad thing, it is definitely different than when we were kids. While Halloween has changed from a neighborhood-wide event and pillowcases full of candy to costumes curated for Instagram and college parties, its evolution reminds us that the holiday still captures the same desire to escape reality, just in a different form. 

I remember being so thrilled to dress up for the Halloween parades in school and to show all my friends my costumes. Dressing up then was not for the sake of getting attention, but for the sake of imagination. Choosing costumes, trick-or-treating with friends, and the suspense of knocking on doors all mattered so deeply as children, as they were a way for us to express ourselves on a day where everyone else was, too. Halloween lets kids experiment with identity in harmless, playful ways. It was about curiosity and creativity, like the fun DIY costumes we all made. As people get older, priorities shift—the same desire for fun and belonging just finds new outlets. The holiday as we know it now is more aimed at socializing, drinking, and documenting our weekends, rather than trick-or-treating or imagination. Costumes are strategic, planned around what is funny or attractive, and I’ve found it to be quite stressful trying to coordinate with friends. In college, Halloween becomes about going out, and can also feel performative: we are curating moments for social media and silently competing with others to have the “best costume.” It is natural for celebrations to evolve, but also that something meaningful shifts when innocence turns into performance. Halloween has grown up alongside us, trading bags of candy for beer and revealing costumes, yet it still mirrors who we are at each stage of growing up: always searching for new ways to feel seen and connected. 

What I’ve realized is that how we celebrate Halloween in college says less about the holiday itself and more about our generation as a whole. College Halloween reflects how young adults balance fun, image, and identity in today’s society. Halloweekend has become an event that reflects the modern pressure to maximize every experience, whether that be on social media or through other forms of validation. People go all out in college—planning multiple costumes and trying to attend every party, showing how performance has replaced spontaneity. The more we grow up, the more we chase the feelings of nostalgia we had as kids, although how we do that looks much different now.

Halloween is still the best holiday, but that “best” means something different at every stage of life. The heart of Halloween—creativity, connection, and escape—has never disappeared; it has just evolved with us. Even as the costumes and traditions change, the feeling that Halloween brings us still lingers. No matter who you are, Halloween is timeless and still finds a way to connect people. Despite how old we get, Halloween will always be a reminder of the joy of pretending and the magic of one night where we can be someone else.

by Ava Stringer ’28 on October 30, 2025

---

Opinion

---

By mid-October, Providence College transforms into the most quintessential collegiate New England atmosphere imaginable. The air smells faintly of pumpkin spice and apple cider. Halloween brings carved pumpkins glowing on porches, the same orange as the dying leaves. Nevertheless, it’s the Amazon Prime boxes stacked in the mailroom that really announce the season. We don’t celebrate Halloween anymore; we survive Halloweekend. Or, in a particularly cruel twist, Halloweekends—plural. Two full weekends, three nights each week, countless bar crawls, dorm parties, and themed “darties” that demand a small fortune’s worth of costumes.

Five distinct outfits. One backup “iconic” look. A prayer that one of them photographs well enough on a digital camera to justify the chaos.

Yik Yak insists you need multiple costumes. TikTok Shop offers identical links, and suddenly, everyone clicks “add to cart” like it’s a moral obligation. The result? A polyester parade. A sea of synthetic superheroes and viscose vampires, all sourced from the same fast-fashion empires we dramatically vowed to boycott last semester after that ethics lecture on sweatshops. Apparently, righteous outrage expires in next-day shipping.

Somewhere between the group chat polls, the Shein tracking updates, and the, “Should I be a fairy or a Formula One driver” crises, Halloween lost its sense of mischief. It used to be about the joy of mayhem, grabbing a pair of scissors, and seeing what happened. Now it’s an industrial process. The efficiency of consumerism has killed the thrill of chaos.

And let’s talk about money. We’re all allegedly broke, living off Ray omelets and swearing we’ll Venmo friends for Uber rides. Yet we somehow manage to funnel our last $200 into costume essentials. Wigs, fishnets, fake blood, angel wings, maybe a corset if your favorite influencer insists. The cost of pretending to be someone else for four nights straight could fund an actual vacation, or at least a month’s worth of iced coffees. And for what? To repeat the ritual next year when the trends change again?

Even the so-called unique costumes aren’t safe. Everything that once felt niche or clever is now mass-produced and micro-trended to death. Let me guess this year’s lineup for the chronically online: Sabrina Carpenter, Glinda and Elphaba duos, a Labubu, maybe the Louvre heist guys, or Hugh Jackman with his loaves of bread. The irony is that in trying so hard to stand out, everyone ends up looking exactly the same.

The desperation to be perceived as hot, funny, ironic, or different has swallowed the fun whole. We curate our costumes like resumes, hoping they’ll perform well online. Halloween used to be about imagination; now it’s about optics. Nobody’s asking, “What do I want to be”? They’re asking, “What will get the most likes”?

I spent this weekend in Salem, MA, which, to its credit, still knows how to do Halloween properly. There, people wore handmade cloaks and crocheted witch hats. They looked genuinely delighted, not desperate for validation. It reminded me that Halloween used to reward creativity, not overconsumption. There’s something almost radical now about not buying anything new, about showing up in something weird, handmade, or borrowed, and wearing it like you mean it.

Maybe the most original costume this year is the one that doesn’t come with a tracking number. Because honestly? The scariest thing about Halloween 2025 isn’t the ghosts or the ghouls. It’s the credit card bill that follows.

by Thomas Marinelli ’26 on October 30, 2025

---

A&E - Film & TV

---

I’ve seen many, many horror movies in my time. A lot of them have become what I call “Hollywoodified,” pretty stupid and not very scary. Others, however, truly live up to their reputation and are legitimately terrifying. Recently, in anticipation of Halloween (my favorite holiday), I watched The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974), and I was not disappointed. This movie stands as a classic for a reason. Even for a film made in the 1970s, its gore, cinematography, and realism surpass most horror movies made today, despite having a tight budget. To make things worse (or better), it was loosely based on real-life murderer Ed Gein. For the sake of keeping things newspaper-friendly, I won’t go into detail about his crimes. Nevertheless, Gein, who gained infamy in 1950s Wisconsin, had a ripple effect on the horror movie industry. The new season of Monster (2022) on Netflix explores his story. The show, best known for its first season about Jeffrey Dahmer, dives into how Gein inspired iconic horror villains like Buffalo Bill (The Silence of the Lambs, 1991), Norman Bates (Psycho, 1960), and Leatherface (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre). Out of these three movies, all excellent in their own way, only The Texas Chainsaw Massacre truly scared me, and that’s the reason why everyone should watch it this Halloween.

Like many horror films, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre was shot on a very low budget. It was supposed to be a two-week shoot under the brutal Texas sun, but ended up lasting 33 days, with filming often running up to 16 hours a day. Needless to say, the cast wasn’t having much fun, yet their exhaustion and discomfort only added to the movie’s unsettling atmosphere. Set in rural Texas, the story follows a group of teenagers on a road trip to visit family members, stumbling upon a deranged family of cannibals living on a decaying farm that used to be a slaughterhouse. Director and writer Tobe Hooper was inspired by several things: America’s growing disillusionment and distrust of authority after Watergate and the Vietnam War, as well as the dark fairy tale of Hansel and Gretel, with the teenagers as the lost children and the cannibal family as the witch who traps them. However, perhaps the most iconic spark came when Hooper, stuck in a crowded department store during the Christmas rush, imagined using a chainsaw to “cut” his way through the crowd. It’s strange, sure, but that kind of mind makes for great horror.

What I love most about The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is how beautiful it looks, even in its horror. Hooper makes the Texas sun come alive; the film always seems to take place during golden hour or late afternoon, where even the daylight feels haunted. The set design is both bizarre and perfect: an abandoned slaughterhouse surrounded by the eerie relics of a deranged family, with cameras constantly zooming in on unsettling details scattered throughout the house and landscape. Some might dismiss the film’s gore as outdated, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Even in the opening shot, the fake corpse looks disturbingly real, and the gritty, documentary-style camera work makes everything feel believable. The film leans more on psychological terror than pure slasher tropes; this isn’t Freddy Krueger killing for fun. Every act of violence in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre feels either obsessive or defensive—never random.

Leatherface, the main antagonist, is quite literally masked with a human face, representing both his hard exterior and his soft, frightened interior, a reflection of America itself at the time through Hooper’s eyes. Despite wielding a chainsaw, Leatherface is essentially a child, terrified of intruders and reacting in the worst possible way, through violence that both “feeds” and satisfies him. From beginning to end, the film is deeply disturbing and unpredictable; no one feels safe, and there’s no time to relax. The teenage characters might be the weakest part of the film—they’re not very relatable and can be annoying—but their fear feels genuine, and that authenticity carries the story. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is one of the few movies that truly scared me. It made me feel unsettled in a way few films do, mainly because it is something that could actually exist. My friends didn’t find it as scary, but that’s because it’s not a jump scare movie; it’s a gruesome, realistic thriller meant to linger in your mind long after it ends.

So this Halloween, gather a group of friends, turn the volume up and the lights down, and tell everyone to shut up and just watch. There’s no way you’ll be disappointed.

by Reese Cassidy ’28 on October 30, 2025

---

A&E - Film & TV

---

Every fall, as the leaves turn and pumpkins appear on porches, Hocus Pocus seems to rise from the grave once again. What began as a forgotten Disney movie in the early ’90s has become a Halloween tradition that fans return to year after year, not for the scares, but for the comfort.

When Hocus Pocus first hit theaters in 1993, it wasn’t the hit Disney had hoped for. Released in the middle of summer, the film earned mixed reviews and modest box office numbers. Yet over the years, something magical happened. The movie found new life through television reruns and then later streaming platforms, transforming from just another fantasy comedy into a beloved Halloween tradition.

More than 30 years later, Hocus Pocus has become a cultural ritual. Every October, families and fans rewatch it, quote it, and dress up as the Sanderson Sisters. Its staying power isn’t just about witches, spells, or black cats; it’s about the way it captures the feeling of Halloween itself: playful, nostalgic, and comforting.

The story behind its success is almost as surprising as the movie’s plot. In the early 2000s, Disney Channel and ABC Family (now Freeform) began airing the film every October. A new generation of kids discovered it, and before long, it became essential to the Halloween season. The film’s popularity grew without major reboots or advertising campaigns. Instead, it spread through tradition. People watched it with siblings, friends, and parents year after year. Over time, Hocus Pocus became a shared seasonal memory, passed down like a favorite Halloween decoration that reappears every fall.

Part of what makes Hocus Pocus so enduring is the feeling of nostalgia it evokes. The film takes viewers back to the excitement of childhood Halloween, with the thrill of costumes, trick-or-treating, and the magic of believing that something supernatural could be happening right around the corner. Unlike horror movies that rely on fear, Hocus Pocus is lighthearted. Its humor, catchy music, and sense of adventure make it the perfect choice for all ages. That comforting tone is exactly what Halloween needs to offset the horror movies and scary vibes. Watching it now feels like revisiting a familiar October from years ago, when everything was a little simpler and a lot more magical. Every time it airs, it reconnects people with the traditions that define the season of pumpkin carving, movie nights, and the sense that Halloween brings everyone together. In a world that changes so quickly, there’s something special about returning to the same movie, the same music, and the same magic that’s been around for decades.

The film’s visual world is another reason for its lasting charm. Set in Salem, MA, Hocus Pocus is filled with everything we associate with Halloween: pumpkin-lined streets, flickering candles, haunted houses, black cats, and just the right amount of fog. Its color palette of deep oranges, purples, and shadowy blues has practically become the standard for Halloween decor. Even the costumes and soundtrack add to its signature feel. The Sanderson Sisters, Winifred, Sarah, and Mary, are instantly recognizable with their colorful capes and chaotic energy. Their over-the-top personalities and humor have made them icons of Halloween pop culture. Every year, fans flood social media with memes, quotes, and photos of their Hocus Pocus-inspired costumes, keeping the spirit of the movie alive.

The release of Hocus Pocus 2 in 2022 showed just how powerful that nostalgia can be. The sequel attracted longtime fans eager to revisit Salem and new viewers discovering the sisters for the first time. It reminded everyone why the original film remains so popular, not because it’s the scariest or most sophisticated movie, but because it feels timeless. At its core, Hocus Pocus celebrates community, family, and the joy of make-believe. It invites everyone to laugh, sing along, and indulge in a little seasonal magic.The secret to Hocus Pocus’s longevity isn’t witchcraft, but emotion. Each year, as October rolls around, the movie reappears like clockwork, signaling Halloween has truly begun. It’s a reminder that the holiday isn’t just about candy or costumes, but about revisiting memories and traditions that make the season feel special. In a way, Hocus Pocus has cast its greatest spell on us all, the ability to make every Halloween feel just like the first one we remember.

by Sophia Caneira ’29 on October 30, 2025

---

A&E - Film & TV

---

With Halloween just around the corner and Charles M. Schulz’s Peanuts turning 75 earlier this month, it seems only fitting that we count It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown (1966) among the best spooky movies to watch this season. Growing up, A Charlie Brown Christmas (1965) was the most frequently watched of the Peanuts movies in my house, but the Halloween tale deserves no less attention.

It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown follows all of your favorite Peanuts characters on Halloween night. The movie surrounds Linus’s unwavering faith in the Great Pumpkin, a being he believes will appear on Halloween in the nearby pumpkin patch, despite the skepticism of his friends. He decides to wait in the pumpkin patch all night and tries to get others to join him. Meanwhile, Charlie Brown is ecstatic at the thought of going trick-or-treating, but ends up disappointed by the spoils.

It’s the Great Pumpkin was nominated for four Emmys. It features the talents of Peter Robbins as Charlie, Christopher Shea as Linus, and Sally Dryer as Lucy. The movie presents a whimsical jazz score and the iconic “Linus and Lucy” theme by composer Vince Guaraldi.

Like many kids’ movies, It’s the Great Pumpkin goes a lot deeper than just childhood fun. Linus’s endearing belief in the Great Pumpkin despite everyone else’s doubts is perhaps a testament to the concept of faith woven throughout not just this Peanuts film, but also in A Charlie Brown Christmas, which explores the true meaning of Christmas as a Christian holiday. When Sally is infuriated by the absence of the Great Pumpkin after Linus convinces her to stay in the pumpkin patch with him, she mourns over the fact that she could have gotten money, chocolate, and candy if she had chosen to go trick-or-treating instead. Perhaps this begs the question: what’s more valuable—material goods or the spirit of faith? 

After Sally’s outburst, Linus asks Charlie, “You’ve heard of the fury of a woman scorned, haven’t you”? This is the kind of reference you probably wouldn’t understand as a kid (unless you were already a playwright enthusiast by five or six), which is partially what makes the film appealing to teenagers and adults alike. It’s timeless. Linus’s wisdom and philosophy across these movies are ageless. So many cherished characters—Schulz’s Charlie Brown and co., A. A. Milne’s Winnie the Pooh, Michael Bond’s Paddington, and others—have such insightful, comic, and relatable philosophies of life. 

Speaking of being relatable, one of the later scenes focuses on the relationship between brother and sister. In the middle of the night, Lucy wakes up and sees Linus’s bed empty. She goes out to look for him and finds him, of course, asleep and shivering, in the middle of the pumpkin patch. She brings Linus back to bed, demonstrating her love for her brother. I have a sister and no brothers, but I imagine this is an accurate depiction of the everyday brother-sister dynamic. There are always moments of disagreement, but in the end, they are still siblings. 

I am pleased to inform all those with short attention spans that It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown is only 25 minutes long. So, if you get bored of scrolling on TikTok, or if you (like me) don’t enjoy the typical scary Halloween film, certainly give this classic movie a try.