Column Teen Horror Time Machine Horror in the Pumpkin Patch: R.L. Stine’s Pumpkinhead A surprisingly emotional Tubi original brings R.L. Stine’s short story to the screen. By Alissa Burger | Published on October 30, 2025 Credit: Tubi Comment 0 Share New Share Credit: Tubi The Tubi original film R.L. Stine’s Pumpkinhead (2025) has sprouted just in time for Halloween on the streaming platform. The film is based on Stine’s short story of the same name, originally published in his 1999 collection Nightmare Hour, and was adapted as a segment in the children’s horror anthology series The Haunting Hour (2010-2014). While there are significant differences between the three versions, in each one, pumpkin patches and jack-o-lanterns take a sinister turn, with dark consequences for the kids who run afoul of these farms of fear.  In Stine’s short story, Andrew, his friend Liz, and Andrew’s little brother Mike take a Halloween trip to Mr. Palmer’s pumpkin patch with Andrew and Mike’s mom. Halloween’s a bit more subdued than usual because kids have gone missing the last two Halloweens, so this year the town has instituted an early curfew, which wreaks havoc with trick-or-treat plans and all manner of mischief. Mike is cranky and throws one tantrum after another, complaining about the curfew, throwing rotten pumpkins around at Palmer’s farm, and attempting to trespass in Palmer’s out-of-bounds “private” pumpkin patch, and when the kids get kicked out, Mike talks Andrew and Liz into going back with him that night to play a “trick” on Palmer. When they finally get a look behind the fence of Palmer’s private pumpkin patch, they find out where the missing children have gone—or at least their heads—when Andrew and Liz find Mike’s head at the end of a vine and a pumpkin perched atop his shoulders. The vines start crawling again and while the mystery of the missing kids is solved, Andrew and Liz aren’t going to be around to tell anybody.  The Haunting Hour episode goes in a slightly different direction: here, Palmer’s farm is not open to the public, clearly marked with “no trespassing” signs, amping up the morality tale element of what can happen when you go where you’re not supposed to. Pumpkin pickings are slim at the grocery store, but Dave (Frankie Jonas) has the bright idea of sneaking out to Palmer’s farm and stealing a pumpkin for his little brother Scott (Liam James) to carve; their older sister Allie (Kacey Rohl) tries to be the voice of reason, but shenanigans carry the day. Beyond the rows of pumpkins, there’s a mysterious ramshackle structure that Dave can’t resist checking out, which is unfortunate because it seems to be a labyrinthine murder dungeon of some sort, where they find what looks an awful lot like a dead body. Enough’s enough and the siblings are ready to split, but they don’t make it to the fence before they’re caught by Palmer. A cryptic warning later, they’re on their way home with two stolen pumpkins and—unbeknownst to them—a pumpkinhead monster following their every move. Later as the kids are getting ready to settle in with a scary movie and some popcorn, the pumpkinhead monsters come for Dave, dragging him back to the farm. Allie tries to save Dave but is too late: the pumpkinhead monsters and the pumpkins bearing the tortured faces of the kidnapped children are their new reality, and when the next Halloween comes around, Dave, Allie, and Scott will be just another dark mystery and cautionary tale.  Tubi’s Pumpkinhead expands the narrative of Stine’s short story and the Haunting Hour anthology segment, with a folk horror twist thrown in for good measure. Though Pumpkinhead has a contemporary setting, there’s a decidedly ‘90s vibe to it, reflecting the foundation of Stine’s original: most of the phone conversations take place on landline cordless phones and many of the characters rock vintage wardrobes of overalls and flannel. Sam (Bean Reid), Finn (Seth Issac Johnson), and their mom (Kendra Anderson) have just moved from New York City to Redhaven, where the town sign boasts that “the harvest never ends.” They are warmly welcomed by the neighbors, the local sheriff (Bob Frazer) and his daughter Becka (Adeline Lo), and one of their first interactions with the larger community is a harvest festival gathering at Mr. Palmer’s (Kevin McNulty) farm. There are all the regular harvest day festivities going on, but there are also people devoutly praying in the field, giving thanks for the bountiful harvest and the reassurance that “the land takes care of its own.” This larger story expands the horrors of the pumpkin patch beyond an isolated experience to systemic pattern: rather than being just a local attraction, Palmer’s farm is integral to the lifeblood and identity of the Redhaven community. The people of Redhaven all gather at Palmer’s farm together on a designated day, collectively expressing their togetherness and gratitude. Palmer himself still remains an ominous figure, but also one whose eccentric and curmudgeonly actions are excused, because of his privileged position in Redhaven (an all too familiar and chilling horror of its own).  Sam is upset about having his life uprooted as his family looks for a fresh start after the death of his and Finn’s father, and he’s definitely not feeling the Halloween spirit. He is constantly arguing with his mom and older brother and in addition to feeling out of place in his new hometown, he feels like his family doesn’t listen to or understand him. Things start to look up when he makes friends with Becka, but his isolation, frustration, and anger lead him to some pretty ill-advised actions. While his mom and Finn carve jack-o-lanterns and start getting to know the townspeople, Sam sneaks around the farm and into Palmer’s barn, where he finds a massive pile of earth and vines, with a “special” pumpkin perched atop it. Sam, Finn, and their mom go home with a big crate of Palmer’s farm fresh vegetables and the “special” pumpkin, which Sam snuck back into the barn and stole, which sets off a whole domino effect of trouble. The theft is discovered, and while the sheriff recommends that Sam take it back to Palmer and apologize, Finn goes in his brother’s place… and doesn’t come back.  And that’s when things get really weird. A missing kid seems like it would be a big deal and cause for alarm—as it is in the previous iterations of this story—but Tubi’s Pumpkinhead sidesteps this complication, as everyone over eighteen simply forgets that Finn ever even existed. When a panicked Sam tries to jog his mom’s memory with a picture of the three of them, she looks at the picture and sees only herself and Sam. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened either. Becka tells Sam that other kids have gone missing but all of the grownups forget, with the kids’ existence and disappearance simultaneously erased, while the adults go on believing in the uncomplicated goodness and safety of Redhaven. With no adults they can turn to for help, Sam and Becka have to try to solve the mystery on their own and reclaim Finn before midnight on Halloween night, or he’ll be lost forever.  In addition to sneaking around Palmer to access the farm and find out what happened to Finn, they are also pursued by a terrifying scarecrow monster (Troy James), with a decomposing fabric body, burlap sack face, and agile limbs that allow it to it to twist, turn, and contort itself as it chases and stalks them, including a back-bend run reminiscent of Regan’s (Linda Blair) spider walk down the stairs in The Exorcist (1973). Simultaneously creaky and fluid, this scarecrow creature is a formidable and seemingly unstoppable foe that the children must contend with at almost every turn. Countering Palmer and the scarecrow, Sam and Becka find an unlikely ally in Rusty (Matty Finochio), who knows the dark history and secrets of Palmer’s farm, which are presented through very effective cutout animation style flashbacks. Rusty has isolated himself from the larger Redhaven community and his own dark family history, and while he is initially reluctant to get involved, he becomes the kids’ ally and advocate, creating distractions and fighting side-by-side with them as they try to set things right.  The interconnection between the past and the present, what is remembered and what is forgotten, and the secrets and sacrifices necessary for prosperity are central to Sam, Becka, and Rusty’s attempts to rescue Finn and unearth the horrors of Palmer’s farm. In some ways, the conclusion of Tubi’s Pumpkinhead is more optimistic than in Stine’s story and the Haunting Hour segment: none of this year’s children have their heads turned into pumpkins, they live to tell the tale, and they seem to have broken the cycle of the farm’s horror. But other elements of the film’s conclusion are significantly more bleak, as Finn turns eighteen when the clock strikes midnight on Halloween night and becomes part of the larger grown-up cycle of forgetting, which appears to be permanent and irreversible. For Finn and his mother, the past is beyond remembering, and for the rest of the characters, the future is uncertain in the film’s simultaneously hopeful and heartbreaking final moments.  Tubi’s Pumpkinhead captures the spirit of Stine’s tween and teen horror, and it also offers a fascinating snapshot of how his work has been adapted and engaged with over the last three decades. Stine’s Nightmare Hour stories and Haunting Hour segments are darker than many of his other books, and not even the main characters are safe, even though Nightmare Hour and The Haunting Hour are intended for younger audiences. The emotional turmoil of growing up resonate through all three versions of Stine’s “Pumpkinhead” story, and seem to be an eternal truth of childhood, one which Stine and these adaptations effectively capture and portray. While the kids’ ill-fated visit to the pumpkin patch in Stine’s original story is largely self-contained, with their secrets silenced when they are, the Haunting Hour expands the dark influence beyond the cursed ground itself, with the pumpkinhead monsters pursuing and abducting Dave. And in Tubi’s Pumpkinhead, the dark power of Palmer’s farm influences the entire town of Redhaven, and all of its residents.  Monsters aside, growing up has its own set of terrors, including fear of the unknown, not being listened to or fitting in, forgetting and being forgotten. These horrors of adolescence are at the heart of Stine’s fiction, often just as scary as the ghosts, monsters, and killers that stalk his pages. These fears are timeless, resonating with generation after generation of young readers and viewers, and are the creeping vines that connect these versions of Stine’s Pumpkinheads.[end-mark] The post Horror in the Pumpkin Patch: R.L. Stine’s <em>Pumpkinhead</em> appeared first on Reactor.