Sigh. Everything old is new again.
The Halloween series has risen from the grave repeatedly; 1960’s Psycho was re-imagined as the TV series Bates Motel; and Netflix will debut a re-boot of Texas Chainsaw Massacre next month.
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| With varying levels of interest, skepticism and outright disbelief, the possible next victims of the ongoing murder spree — from left, Wes (Dylan Minnette), Richie (Jack Quaid), Sam (Melissa Barrera) and Dewey (David Arquette) — listen while the horrific situation's "rules" are explained. |
The first film’s 1996 debut quickly spawned a trilogy that “concluded” four years later. 2011’s Scream 4 attempted — and failed — to breathe new life into the murder sprees occurring in small-town Woodsboro; a three-season television series, from 2015-19, had nothing to do with the franchise beyond borrowing its name.
Creator Kevin Williamson’s shrewd “gimmick” — he scripted the first, second and fourth films — is that these characters are well versed in horror films, and speak knowledgably about what one should (and shouldn’t) do, when confronted with a masked killer murder spree.
But more often than not, they ignore their own well-researched advice. With predictable results.
The movie-obsessed killers, as well, are required to act according to certain genre expectations. Finally, there are three well-established rules:
1) Never trust the love interest;
2) The killer’s motive always is connected to something in the past; and
3) The first victim always belongs to a “friend group” that the killer is part of.
As the series progressed, it became increasingly self-referential and meta, with each fresh set of characters (victims) debating the merits (or lack thereof) of a film series — Stab, Stab 2, etc. — that exploits these Woodsboro tragedies. This, in turn, spawns fresh killing sprees by new maniacs concealed behind the Ghostface mask, which prompts further Stab entries. Lather, rinse, repeat.
(Honestly, you’d think Woodsboro would have run out of residents by now.)
The question, then, is whether this 2022 entry has anything fresh to say. The answer: Slightly yes, mostly no.
Social media essentially didn’t exist the last time Scream screamed, and scripters James Vanderbilt and Guy Busick make ample use of this enhancement. One cleverly suspenseful sequence exploits smart phone tracking capabilities (with the obligatory gruesome results).
Co-directors Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett excel at snarky “teases,” most notably with the infamous camera shot that frames a character standing in front of an open door — refrigerator, whatever — as Brian Tyler’s spooky score intensifies; we just know, when that door closes, that Ghostface will be standing behind it, knife held aloft.
But no: Over and over, nothing is there; cue the adrenaline release. Until the next time.
For good measure, the filmmakers also borrow a note from Hitchcock, with a shower sequence that opens with an identical tight shot of water streaming from the shower head.
In a similar nod to the initial Scream, this new one kicks off with an identical prologue. Teenager Tara Carpenter (Jenna Ortega), alone one evening, receives a phone call from a stranger who initially seems friendly enough, but soon subjects her to a sadistic game: She must answer three horror movie-related questions accurately, or her best friend Amber (Mikey Madison) will be slaughtered. And it’s no idle threat; the caller is using Amber’s phone.
Ah, but it’s a fake-out; Ghostface actually comes after Tara, leaving her critically wounded … but not dead.
News of this reaches Tara’s estranged older sister, Sam (Melissa Barrera), who left town years ago under an unspecified cloud. Devoted boyfriend Richie (Jack Quaid) agrees to accompany her back to Woodsboro, where a hospitalized Tara is well supported by her posse:
• Mindy (Jasmin Savoy Brown), the resident movie geek and obsessive horror buff;
• Chad (Mason Gooding), Mindy’s buff and aggressively macho twin brother;
• Liv (Sonia Ammar), Chad’s pouty, self-centered girlfriend;
• Wes (Dylan Minnette), a kind, all-around good guy, and son of Woodsboro Sheriff Judy Hicks (Marley Shelton); and
• the aforementioned Amber, sullen and spiteful, overly protective of Tara, and immediately suspicious of Sam’s sudden return. Like, where was she when Tara was attacked?
Most of these characters are little more than the superficial descriptions above; Vanderbilt and Busick don’t grant anything close to complex personalities. Their notion of dialogue also relies heavily on F-bombs, inserted as everything from nouns and verbs, to adjectives and adverbs.
Quaid does reasonably well as the supportive Richie, good-natured about his status as “group outsider,” and defensive about his ignorance of the Stab movie series. He and Sam have an amusing conversation about her insistence that the Stab series definitely is very, very different than the Halloween or Friday the 13th films. (“Yeah, right,” he replies, eyes rolling, and not at all convinced.)
Brown’s enthusiastic Mindy is the most fun, particularly when she giddily explains that they’ve all become part of a “requel”: not quite a re-boot, not quite a sequel, but a blend of both that requires a “next-gen cast” and “legacy characters.” The latter cues the return of the indomitable Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell), fearless journalist-turned-morning news anchor Gale Weathers (Courteney Cox) and lovable underdog Dewey Riley (David Arquette), all of whom survived the carnage of the first four films, defeating their cadre of Ghostfaces.
Campbell, in particular, is as synonymous with Scream, and Jamie Lee Curtis is with Halloween; both are indispensible.
But does that make Sidney indisposable, this time? (I’ll never tell.)
As far as Sidney and Gale are concerned, this is business as usual; they quickly enlist Sam in their scheme to end this newest murder spree.
“Sam,” Sidney gravely explains, “I want you to help us kill him.”
Sam pauses for a disbelieving beat, then replies, “You want me to help you … and the host of a morning show … to commit murder?”
“Correct,” Gale confirms, chirpily.
That exchange draws a chuckle; it’s a shame Vanderbilt and Busick supply little else in the way of similar gallows humor.
Despite all the early wink-wink-nudge-nudge meta references, this soon devolves into a typical slasher flick, and a rather grim, mean-spirited one at that. While the absence of the genre’s sex-equals-death cliché is refreshing, the lingering, gore-laden brutality of several killings is quite distasteful.
And I must say, when we hit the climax — as a small handful of survivors do their best to stay alive — it’s amazing how ambulatory, resourceful and powerful they remain, despite being stabbed and shot multiple times. They’re better than Energizer bunnies!
I’ve no doubt genre fans will flock to this, ah, requel … but there’s little to entice mainstream viewers. 1996’s Scream broke new ground; this newest entry is mostly an excuse to splatter blood on the screen.
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