SCREAM B
USA (111 mi) 1996 ‘Scope d: Wes Craven
A different kind of horror film, one that slyly explains the rules of the genre as it goes along, that from the outset humorously pays homage to teen slasher films like FRIDAY THE 13TH (1980) and the director’s own A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET (1984) where teens in supposedly safe suburbia are stalked by an unseen masked monster. This film, cleverly written by Kevin Williamson, has a tongue-in-cheek attitude about its witty dialogue where characters are spewing bits and pieces of camp movie dialogue while it’s being restaged in some form onscreen. Using the telephone as an instrument of menace, the surprises come fast and furious with Drew Barrymore (as a blond) in the opening sequence, where she is terrorized by the strange sounding voice on the phone, where the mood shifts from casual silliness to an overt catastrophe in split seconds, where the audience in their seats probably can’t stop from yelling instructions to her on the screen, but she disregards all common sense and is instead paralyzed in a shiver of fright. Paying homage to Hitchcock’s shocking treatment to Janet Leigh’s blond heroine in PSYCHO (1960), Barrymore makes an even quicker screen exit while in the background can be heard the faint strains of “Don’t Fear the Reaper,” a Blue Oyster Cult song prominently featured in John Carpenter’s HALLOWEEN (1978), perhaps the most perfect example of the teen horror genre, where Jamie Lee Curtis memorably claws her way to survival in that film, showing an uncommon amount of resilience and heady, split second thinking. In the hearts of many, she won a lifetime achievement award with that single performance, becoming a central theme of this film as well.
Neve Campbell is next, where she innocently mis-identifies the voice on the phone as that of a friend of hers, Randy (Jamie Kennedy), who works in a video store and his brain is obsessed with uttering movie references, where again the initial playfulness turns on a dime to something distinctly malevolent, where she fortunately survives a similar attack, an incident that leaves her traumatized, as her mother was killed in a similar incident nearly a year ago, where her testimony against the man she saw leaving the scene of the crime put him behind bars. Nonetheless, her boyfriend, Skeet Ulrich, a Johnny Depp clone, mysteriously crawls through her window shortly after the attack to make sexual overtures. At school the next day, who should be Campbell’s best friend, but the sexually promiscuous Rose McGowan, where similar to HALLOWEEN, the smart, virginal girl’s best friend is a sexual dynamo, one repressed and hung up on sex, the other free wheeling and wild. This friendship seems to represent the full range of sexual expression as seen by a typical teenage male. Quickly arriving on the scene is the unethical TV court reporter Courteney Cox, giving a Nicole Kidman TO DIE FOR (1995) performance, pushing other people aside to get what she wants, always abrasive yet catty, smug and wickedly bitchy, a woman who quickly receives a sock in the mouth from Campbell for writing a tabloid sleaze book alleging her mother’s murderer is innocent. Adding to the tabloid sensation is the presence of Deputy Dewey (David Arquette), where the onscreen sizzle with Cox is a prelude to their real-life eventual marriage. At this point, one has to acknowledge these young women onscreen are ravishingly beautiful, all in the prime of their careers, which may have contributed to the movie grossing over $100 million dollars at the box office.
When the laid back California action moves to an unsupervised teen drinking party in a giant mansion, where McGowan hopes Campbell can forget all her problems, the real absurdity of the premise takes over. It’s here that Randy offers the rules of the game as HALLOWEEN can be seen in the background playing on TV, claiming if you want to survive in a horror movie: 1.) You can never have sex (or you’ll be killed) 2.) You can never drink or do drugs (or you’ll be killed) 3.) Never under any circumstances say “I’ll be right back,” (because you won’t). Of course, all the rules are violated, which leads to outlandish circumstances where the stalker reeks mayhem, leading to a near surreal catastrophic finale, a bloodbath of killings and near misses which plays out in choreographed precision, like a funhouse of death using music, close ups, slow motion speed mixed with comic absurdity. Cox secretly places a video camera inside the party, but there’s a 30 second time gap between reality and what’s viewed onscreen, which allows plenty of confusion, as characters continue to get tripped up by unfortunate bad timing. Still, despite the graphic gore, the mystifyingly refreshing dialogue continues to amaze, beautifully capturing the Generation X mentality, continuing with nonstop references to past slasher films, where there’s a goofiness to it all, even as lives are at stake. But the clever tone wins out, openly making fun of itself, as the entire film plays out like a movie within a movie, where the horror genre itself becomes an identifiable character associated with the unseen stalker, adding personality and color to this darkly entertaining film. The one-liners are so quick and so perfectly embedded into the action that you may need to view this again, where you’ll get your chance, spawning not one, not two, but three Craven sequels so far. Drew Barrymore sarcastically streams the director’s thoughts on the phone while offering her insight about the numerous sequels to Craven’s A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET, the film where the guy has knives for fingers, which the caller acknowledges was a scary movie. “Well, the first one was, but the rest sucked.”
