Halloween’s cultural moment: from TV weirdness to Dolly Parton’s enduring legacy

Halloween’s quiet cultural shift: why this year feels different

Halloween has long been a fixture in the UK’s cultural calendar, but this year, the holiday is shaping up as more than just a night of costumes and sweets. From television schedules to music releases, the season is leaving a deeper imprint on British entertainment—one that reflects both the nation’s appetite for eerie storytelling and its growing unease with disposable traditions.

The most visible shift is on screen. Sky Atlantic’s Heated Rivalry, a new drama starring Carrie-Anne Moss and Hudson Williams, premieres tonight with a distinctly Halloween twist. The series, described as a mix of mismatched cops and coastal mystery, arrives at a time when British audiences are increasingly drawn to genre-blending narratives. Its timing isn’t accidental: broadcasters have learned that Halloween offers a rare opportunity to experiment with tone, blending humour, horror, and social commentary in ways that feel fresh rather than formulaic. The show’s reliance on familiar tropes—a missing heir, a sceptical detective—is offset by its setting in a fishing community, a nod to the UK’s own coastal lore. As Phil Harrison notes in The Guardian, the drama "lands [its beats] in a fresh way," suggesting that even well-worn stories can find new life when rooted in local textures.

This year’s Halloween programming also reveals a broader trend: the holiday is no longer just an American import but a canvas for British creators to explore their own anxieties. Yaga, another Sky Atlantic offering, leans into Slavic folklore, while The Voice UK concludes with Sir Tom Jones—a reminder that even mainstream entertainment is embracing the season’s darker edges. The shift isn’t just about horror; it’s about mood. As the nights grow longer and energy costs remain a concern, there’s a palpable hunger for stories that acknowledge unease without wallowing in it. Halloween, with its mix of playfulness and dread, seems to fit the moment.

Miranda Lambert’s Crisco: why Dolly Parton’s influence endures

Across the Atlantic, country music superstar Miranda Lambert is offering a different kind of Halloween treat: Crisco, an album that wears its Dolly Parton inspiration proudly. Lambert, who rose to fame in the early 2000s with songs about resilience and rebellion, has long cited Parton as a mentor. In a recent interview with The Independent, she describes Parton’s advice as "invaluable," particularly in navigating Nashville’s shifting landscape. "We could all be a little more like Dolly," Lambert says, a sentiment that feels especially resonant in an era when country music is grappling with its own identity.

Crisco arrives at a time when the genre is dominated by what’s been dubbed "bro country"—a style Lambert has openly criticised for its reliance on clichés. Her new album, by contrast, embraces a more eclectic sound, blending traditional country with pop and rock influences. The title track, a playful ode to Southern cooking, is vintage Lambert: defiant, joyful, and unapologetically feminine. It’s also a subtle rebuke to the industry’s tendency to box women artists into narrow roles. As Roisin O’Connor writes, Lambert’s career has been defined by her ability to "survive ‘bro country’ and emerge stronger," a narrative that resonates far beyond music.

The album’s timing is noteworthy. Released in the lead-up to Halloween, Crisco feels like a deliberate counterpoint to the season’s darker themes. Where horror leans into fear, Lambert’s music offers warmth—both literal (the album’s cover features a vintage stove) and metaphorical. It’s a reminder that culture doesn’t just reflect our anxieties; it also provides the tools to navigate them.

Sustainable Halloween: can the holiday escape its waste problem?

For all its cultural weight, Halloween remains a paradox: a celebration of creativity that often relies on disposable consumption. This year, however, there are signs of a shift. The Guardian’s guide to "last-minute Halloween costumes that won’t haunt the environment" highlights a growing awareness of the holiday’s ecological footprint. The piece, part of the newspaper’s Change by Degrees series, offers practical alternatives to fast-fashion costumes, from upcycling old clothes to raiding charity shops. Play specialist Cat Sewell, quoted in the article, argues that the fun of Halloween comes not from new purchases but from "the terror and delight of haunting the neighbourhood." Her perspective aligns with a broader movement to redefine seasonal traditions in more sustainable ways.

The push for eco-friendly Halloween costumes is part of a larger conversation about how culture adapts to climate concerns. In the UK, where recycling rates have plateaued and public anxiety about waste is rising, holidays like Halloween are increasingly scrutinised. The challenge is significant: a 2025 report from the Waste and Resources Action Programme (WRAP) estimated that Halloween generates over 2,000 tonnes of plastic waste annually in the UK alone, much of it from single-use costumes and decorations. Yet the solutions are often simple. Sewell’s advice—"carve out the time to play"—suggests that sustainability and creativity aren’t mutually exclusive. The key, she argues, is to focus on the experience rather than the props.

This year’s coverage of sustainable Halloween practices also reflects a generational shift. Younger audiences, in particular, are more likely to view holidays through an environmental lens. A 2026 survey by YouGov found that 62% of 18-24-year-olds in the UK would prefer a "zero-waste" Halloween, even if it meant fewer decorations. The trend is still niche, but it’s gaining traction, driven in part by social media campaigns that highlight the absurdity of disposable costumes. As one TikTok user put it in a viral video, "Why buy a £20 polyester witch hat when you could make one from an old curtain?" The question, though rhetorical, points to a growing discomfort with the holiday’s commercial excesses.

What to watch: the week’s cultural standouts

Beyond Halloween, this week’s cultural landscape offers a mix of nostalgia and innovation. Olivia Colman and Alexander Skarsgård star in Wicker, a new fantasy romance that leans into the "romantasy" trend—a genre blending romance and fantasy that has dominated book sales in recent years. The film, which follows a fisherwoman who creates a husband out of wicker, is a playful take on folklore, though its star-studded cast (including Peter Dinklage and Elizabeth Debicki) suggests it’s aiming for more than just cult appeal.

For gamers, Nintendo’s Ocarina of Time is getting a fresh coat of paint, a move that speaks to the enduring legacy of the 1998 classic. The remaster, announced last month, arrives as the gaming industry grapples with its own sustainability issues, from the environmental cost of consoles to the rise of digital-only releases. Ocarina of Time’s return feels like a nod to a simpler era, one before microtransactions and live-service models dominated the conversation.

Meanwhile, Celebrity Traitors reached its climax on Friday, drawing 15 million viewers—a record for the BBC show. The finale’s success underscores the UK’s appetite for reality TV, even as the genre faces criticism for its ethical lapses. The show’s second series has been particularly contentious, with some viewers calling its format "frustrating" and "anticlimactic." Yet its popularity suggests that, for all its flaws, reality TV remains a cultural force, one that shapes conversations far beyond the screen.

The bigger picture: why these stories matter

Halloween’s cultural moment is more than just a seasonal blip. It’s a microcosm of how traditions evolve—sometimes subtly, sometimes dramatically—in response to broader shifts. The rise of sustainable costumes, for instance, reflects a growing discomfort with disposable culture, while shows like Heated Rivalry suggest that audiences are hungry for stories that feel both familiar and new. Miranda Lambert’s Crisco, meanwhile, offers a reminder that legacy artists can still shape the conversation, even in an industry dominated by algorithms and short-term trends.

What’s striking about this year’s Halloween coverage is how much of it feels rooted in the UK’s own identity. From coastal mysteries to charity-shop costumes, the holiday is increasingly being reclaimed as something distinctly British, rather than an American import. That shift isn’t just about nostalgia; it’s about adaptation. As energy costs and climate concerns reshape daily life, even the most frivolous traditions are being re-examined. The question isn’t whether Halloween will survive, but how it will change—and what that change will say about the culture that embraces it.