Reads from the street
Put him by the mailbox with a cold spot underneath. From the sidewalk he's the first thing you see on the block.

No motor. It stands there under its own lantern and works.
See it in the scene: The Front Lawn →
Light-up lantern and eyes, outdoor, freestanding
A hooded skeleton in layers of torn gray fabric, one bony hand gripping a black cast-iron-look lamppost with an amber lantern up top, blue eyes lit under the hood. It doesn't move; it stands there and glows, which at the far end of a dark walkway is plenty. The round base means it goes wherever the ground is flat: lawn edge, driveway, beside the porch steps.
Most reapers need a post, a hook, or a tree limb to hang from. This one arrives with the gaslight pole and a round, fluted base, so it stands on a flat patch of lawn, the driveway edge, or the porch landing without you hunting for something to tie it to.
The skull faces you, jaw open, so the pose reads from the street. Face it down the walkway and every kid coming up has to pass the outstretched hand; angle it toward the door and it looks like it's showing them in.
Grinning skull, blue eyes, shredded gray robes, nothing dripping. That's the right level for the lawn the four-year-olds walk past holding a parent's hand. Keep the heavy stuff for the side yard and let this one work the curb.
On the night it holds its corner under its own amber light, blue eyes on the sidewalk, while you're busy at the door. Built to stay out through October, not just the one evening. On November first the lantern goes dark, the robes fold down, and the whole thing goes flat into the tote until next year.
What holds up
Put him by the mailbox with a cold spot underneath. From the sidewalk he's the first thing you see on the block.
The skull has actual paint depth, not the flat grey most of these come with. Robe needed a steam to lose the fold lines.