Director: Wes Craven
Cast: Heather Lagenkamp, Robert Englund, Miko Hughes, John Saxon
Have I Seen it Before: I’ve probably seen this entry in the Nightmare on Elm Street series more than any other.
Did I Like It: And that’s probably because ultimately, I’ve never never loved this series all that much. Even the original A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) always struck me as just a little too fashionable. Aside from a clever enough hook that might just barely burrow its way into your unconscious and bother you long after the credits rolled, it always seemed like just another 80s horror movie.
Here, though things are pretty thoroughly ahead of their time. Wes Craven’s meta instincts wouldn’t reach full acceptance for another two years with Scream (1996), but here it’s less of a joke.
In fact, it’s only intermittently interested in being a horror movie, mostly in the scenes leading up to the climax, and any moments where Langenkamp’s son (Hughes) is possessed of a mind to do Spooky Things. The rest of the film is more interested in the mythic, all the way to the point that when it does reach its climax, we have departed New Line’s effort to jump-start their moribund horror franchise, and is instead the most expensive R-rated Fairy Tale ever committed to film.
No wonder the co-creator of The Fourth Wall likes it so much.
It’s a bold move on Craven’s part and certainly worth a watch by anyone who might have an affinity for the genre, but might otherwise be turned off by the seventh movie in a series, which eschews the continuity of the previous entries in the series. I’m also happy to report it is only occasionally marred by some inherent design flaws. Scares are low, which could turn off some. Also, having non-performers like mega-producer Robert Shaye and Craven himself play themselves in key supporting roles illuminates why neither man had ever gravitated towards performance before. Even England and Langenkamp appear as if fitted not-quite-correctly for a suit of clothes when playing themselves. I can’t imagine an actor who made their bones in the occasionally absurd world of horror movies is very comfortable being themselves for long stretches of time, to say nothing of having to do so on camera.