Review - Scream
Directed by: Matt Bettinelli-Olpin, Tyler Gillet
Written by: James Vanderbilt, Guy Busick
Starring: Neve Campbell, Courteney Cox, David Arquette, Jack Quaid, Melissa Barrera
Running Time: 114
Rating: 4.5/5
“A requel. New main characters, yes, but supported by and related to legacy characters. Not quite a reboot, not quite a sequel. Like the new Halloween, Saw, Terminator, Jurassic Park, Ghostbusters, fuck, even Star Wars. It always goes back to the original.”
Fans of the franchise might think they're experiencing deja-vu during the first few moments of Radio Silence's Scream (2022), a requel to the horror classic directed by Wes Craven and written by Kevin Williamson in 1996. There's a suburban house surrounded by dense woods, a tree-swing oscillating in the wind, and a teenage girl standing by her stove with a phone in hand. These uncanny callbacks to Drew Barrymore's historic Scream (1996) opening sequence are all by design, of course, but subtle changes play with your expectations. They start out small: unlike Barrymore's Casey Becker, Tara Carpenter is boiling ramen instead of heating Jiffy Pop. She's also texting a friend to come over instead of waiting for a boyfriend to arrive. And because this isn't the ‘90s, she's not quick to answer her ringing landline. As the scene launches into total madness, the changes make all the difference: Tara's appreciation for "elevated" A24 horror directly opposes Casey's love for slasher films; while Casey had to rely on muscle memory, Tara can IMDB Ghostface's routine movie trivia. Much to writers James Vanderbilt & Guy Busick's credit, the opening sequence is unbearably tense because of how much it honors the original while simultaneously subverting it. By the time Ghostface utters his familiar catchphrase — "Would you like to play a game, Tara?" — all bets are off. Bolstered by Jenna Ortega's behemoth performance and Roger L. Jackson's menacing voice work, the opening is a gripping tête-à-tête that bridges the past and present and has you wondering if Tara will succumb to her counterpart's fate or actually survive. To say anything more would spoil its impact. But, its conclusion naturally propels the story forward, paving the way for a new batch of teens and returning legacy cast members to encounter Ghostface's blade once again.
Scream (2022) is a truly fantastic addition to the franchise. It captures the spirit of its predecessors and manages to create a contemporary offering with new rules and ideas for modern audiences. It operates like a funhouse mirror, and directors Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillet pay homage to Craven's original movie through replication and deconstruction. Much like its opening scene, many set pieces, storylines, and character moments look and feel like the source material but are altered ever so delicately to make it fresh and exciting. Utilizing the franchise's built-in metacommentary, this requel is also highly aware-that-you're aware-that-they're-aware that this is a new Scream movie in a long-running film series. Take, for example, its namesake. It's purposefully not titled Scream 5 so that it can serve as a wink-wink to recent horror requels — Halloween (2018), Candyman (2021), the upcoming Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2022) — and narratively function in the text as a rumination on the nostalgic need to always go back to the original after all this time. While other requels have retconned sequels in their respective franchises, Scream smartly incorporates nods and throwbacks to Scream 2 (1997), Scream 3 (2000), and Scream 4 (2011). In fact, its killer's motives can be seen as a twisted extension of the killer's prescient objective in 4. There are so many other things to appreciate, too, like the franchise's first-ever male shower scene (lovingly referred to as a "win for the community" by a friend), Neve Campbell's triumphant return to the role of Sidney Prescott, all of Jasmin Savoy Brown's line reads, the ‘90s/’00-inspired soundtrack, Dewey and Gale's emotionally metatextual reunion (David Arquette and Courteney Cox divorced in 2010), and a killer Act Three. But, of course, it's not without its divisive moments, too: specific continuity errors concerning the film-within-a-film franchise, STAB, feel especially glaring given how much care was put into all of the Easter eggs and callbacks throughout. Its grimmer tone extinguishes some of the original's spark, and a particular cinematic device, akin to Sidney's "Mother loves you" nightmares in Scream 3, still has many fans, including myself, reeling. However, what makes these divisive moments fun and meta is that the movie willingly opens itself up to critique and even engages itself in a conversation about fandom, exploring what happens when filmmakers make choices that fans don't necessarily agree with.
“Save yourself, fall out of love.”
Primarily, Scream is concerned with the notion of legacy. It has fun playing around with returning cast members passing the proverbial torch and even touches on the franchise's own enduring legacy. However, on a deeper level, it's an exploration of legacy in the context of generational trauma and its impact on the individual self. Trauma is intrinsic to Craven and Williamson's original groundwork — Sidney Prescott is constantly haunted by her dead mother's actions, and the subsequent Ghostface killings harden and prevent her from opening up — and Scream's new “Final Girl” is no different. Sam Carpenter, played by Melissa Barerra, and sister to Ortega's Tara, wrestles with her secretive lineage, having to decide whether to fend off the killers by running from her past or embracing it. Keeping in line with its predecessors, Scream understands that trauma has a way of instilling distrust in yourself and others: is that boy you're dating who he says he is? Does your best friend have good intentions? Ultimately, all of the Scream movies illustrate these trauma-born fears are often valid, but if you learn to trust certain instincts, your life could actually be spared. And maybe, just maybe, you might eventually find some healing in the process.
During a harrowing moment in Act Two, Ghostface exclaims: "It's an honor." It's how I would describe watching Scream, too. It's an adoring love letter to Craven, the original tetralogy, and to the people who have kept it alive all these years. It truly is an honor to not only be a Scream fan but to also witness the rebirth of a franchise that has scared and comforted audiences for over two decades. It's beautiful to know that a scream over 911 in 1996 is still relevant 25 years later.
I can't wait for Scream 6. Or Scream(s)? Scream Again? Scream 2 (20—)?