Courteney Cox | Screenlife Reviews

For all of its commentary on the genre and self-deprecating humour about its place within it, the Scream franchise is undoubtedly one of the titans of horror; a consistently entertaining whodunnit slasher series that has always managed to keep its finger on the pulse thanks to clever writing and fantastic direction from horror icon Wes Craven. Now, six years after Craven’s unfortunate passing, the task of continuing the franchise falls to the directing team of Tyler Gillett and Matt Bettinelli-Olpin (the team behind 2019’s expectation subverting Ready or Not) and for the most part their reboot/sequel continues Craven’s legacy in fine form; a well-paced mystery with plenty of inventive kills, pop-culture commentary and red herrings to keep you guessing. It may lose itself at times in the need to hit franchise beats and the return of franchise mainstays Neve Campbell, David Arquette and Courtney Cox aren’t exactly necessary, but Scream is nevertheless a damn fine addition to the franchise and an entertaining revitalisation for this decade.

When her sister Tara (Jenna Ortega) is brutally attacked by a killer in a Ghostface outfit, Sam Carpenter (Melissa Barrera) is forced to return to the town of Woodsboro to be by her side, with boyfriend Richie (Jack Quaid) along for the ride. As the bodycount increases Sam learns that the killings could be connected to her secretive history, prompting her to enlist the aid of survivor Dewey Riley (Arquette) in order to track down the killer and stop his rampage through Tara’s group of friends. As Dewey and Sam’s investigation inevitably crosses paths with the killer and the list of suspects begins to thin, they must call upon original Ghostface survivor Sydney Prescott (Campbell) and Dewey’s now ex-wife Gale Weathers (Cox) to help them once and for all put the killer down and leave their legacy of violence in the past.

The strength of a Scream film falls down to the commentary it makes on the current state of the horror genre and, in this case, the entertainment industry as a whole; firmly setting its sights on the toxic fandoms that have arisen alongside the concept of the “requel” – essentially reboots of franchises that include legacy characters to appease long-time fans (think Star Wars: The Force Awakens or 2018’s Halloween). It’s a smart pivot away from the now somewhat dated “webcasting” and internet-age angle of 2011’s fourth instalment, with less to say about the methods and forms in which movies and television are delivered to the audience and more about the possessiveness of fans which is unfortunately often radicalised and turned violent.

Sharply written, even if it doesn’t present any actual solutions to solving the problems of these clusters of toxic fandoms, the biggest issue with the commentary is that there isn’t more of it. Sure you have your usual movie nerd character (played in an overly snarky fashion here by Jasmin Savoy Brown) spouting film theory and summarising the latest genre trends in a typically condescending way, but it doesn’t feel particularly potent; the digs at these requels particularly weak when you consider the audience is watching one play out in front of them. The hallmark of those films – the returning characters – feel out of place here, with the holy trinity of Craven’s opus largely back for fan service rather than any essential plot reason. Sure Arquette’s Dewey gets something to do, genuinely essential to the plot for a brief period, but Cox and Campbell are wholly unnecessary, their presence welcome because of our attachment to the characters as fans more than anything else.

New face of the franchise Melissa Barrera gives a somewhat stilted performance as Sam, rarely registering anything other than a direct stab as noteworthy but thankfully the supporting cast around her imbue life into the proceedings, particularly Jenna Ortega and Jack Quaid. Ortega gives a lively, incredibly sympathetic performance as Tara, a young girl whose world has been turned upside down by violent attacks and familial revelations, forcing her to shut herself off from those around her in an attempt to protect herself. Quaid dials the quirky, nerdy schtick he so perfected in The Boys up to eleven; a charming if somewhat dim third wheel to the sisters who you can’t help but love for his loyalty. And even if they aren’t completely necessary to the plot, it’s a welcome sight to see Campbell, Cox and Arquette back in character, never slouching in their ever-evolving performances as three friends who have dealt with their traumatic pasts in vastly different ways.

For the first film in the franchise not to be directed by the sadly departed Craven, Gillett and Bettinelli-Olpin do a great job matching the intensity of his earlier films, crafting a whodunnit that steadily increases in tension before culminating in a gleefully unhinged finale. Scenes feel obligated as part of a Scream film at times, the sideways glances and sinister expressions required to make the audience believe everyone is a suspect are often the only characterisation given to member’s of Tara’s friend group. As such, it robs the kills of a lot of their impact, with no emotional bond tying you to the victims, and you can’t help but wonder how differently the film may have panned out had the time been spent expanding these characters’ roles rather than the returning players. That’s not to say the film lacks an immense sense of fun, with the pacing of the moment-to-moment action always keeping the audience on their toes as a character heads towards their often brutally violent end.

With the fifth instalment of Scream, Tyler Gillett and Matt Bettinelli-Olpin prove that there is still plenty of gas left in the franchise’s tank to adapt and skewer the ever-evolving sensibilities of movie fans and pop-culture at large in 2022. The familiar meta commentary and gory kills make for an experience that feels both true to Craven’s vision but also one unafraid to surge forward and try new things within the framework of Scream, for better or for worse. If the franchise does move forward then it can safely do so without Campbell, Cox and Arquette; a whole new generation ready to answer that killer question: what’s your favourite scary movie?

Scream stars Neve Campbell, Courtney Cox, David Arquette, Melissa Barrera, Tara Ortega, Jack Quaid, Dylan Minnette, Jasmin Savoy Brown, Sonia Ammar, Mikey Madison, Mason Gooding, Kyle Gallner, Heather Matarazzo & Marley Shelton – In cinemas now.

8/10

Arguably horror maestro Wes Craven’s greatest creation (A Nightmare on Elm Street not included), the Scream franchise has managed to become one of the most consistently fun and terrifying franchises within horror, largely thanks to its constant reinvention and clever commentary on the genre and the many clichés that populate it. With the fifth instalment of the Ghostface-fronted franchise hitting screens – the first without Craven behind the lens – we’re taking a trip down memory lane alongside Sydney, Dewie and Gale to bring you the definitive ranking of Scream.

5. Scream 3 (2000)

While none of the Scream films are outright bad, Scream 3 suffers from its ambitions as a franchise redefining trilogy-capper, falling victim to the very trappings of similar horror sequels it seeks to lampoon. Setting the film amongst the bright lights of Hollywood – as Sydney (Neve Campbell), Gale (Courtney Cox) and Dewie (David Arquette) are drawn back into the fray to investigate a series of murders on the set of a film adapting the previous murders – allows for some fun meta moments and cameos, but the story strains believability at every turn; the final twist bastardising what has come before with needless backstory painfully delivered in an exposition heavy scene that robs the film of any remaining tension in order to justify itself.

Granted that doesn’t mean Scream 3 ever lacks energy, the usual lightning-quick pacing propelling you towards a needlessly elaborate albeit giddily fun final act as the remaining players are chased around a classic old Hollywood mansion complete with hidden doors and secret passageways. The kills themselves live up to the constant reminders of going for broke in the final instalment (even if it wouldn’t end up being it) but never feel as gruesome or realistic as earlier instalments; explosions and miraculously perfect voice recordings of all the key players replacing the stabbings and classic Roger L. Jackson Ghostface voice for the most part. And therein lies the film’s biggest problem: in trying to top itself it became the very thing it poked fun at, for better and for worse.

4. Scream (2022)

The latest instalment finds fresh material to harvest as it sets its sights squarely on the toxic fandoms that have arisen within pop-culture alongside the surge in popularity for the “requel” – overall franchise reboots that include legacy characters to appeal to long-time fans. It’s a smart shift in the commentary that allows for the meta discussions within the film that the franchise has become known for whilst pushing into wider directions with the statement it makes, this time the film industry as a whole and the volatile online discourse created through channels like Twitter and Reddit. Without spoiling things, the eventual reveals – whilst not as out of left field as the other films – make for a hilariously over-the-top but effective point about the possessiveness of these hardcore fans; impossible to please and easy to incite into a rage.

Where things fall short are in new directors Tyler Gillett and Matt Bettinelli-Olpin’s need to make things feel like a Scream film, often at the expense of fleshing out the supporting cast of friends of Tara Carpenter (Jenna Ortega), the traditional opening scene victim who survives her attack (a first for the series), prompting sister Sam (Melissa Barrera) to return to Woodsboro, bringing with her some pivotal secrets. Often these lesser players are given nothing more than the obligatory suspect shots – the narrowing of the eyes and sideways glances – the usual red herrings that ensure the audience suspects everyone instead of one specific person, thus making for a lot of throwaway deaths that, while gleefully gory, don’t hold much weight. And sure, Arquette, Cox and Campbell don’t need to be here at all, but their presence is a welcome addition that satisfyingly closes their narratives and, if the franchise does choose to move forward, hopefully leaves them be. God knows they’ve been through enough.

3. Scream 4 (2011)

Reinventing the franchise after 11 years away was never going to be an easy task, and yet Scream 4 never feels as if it skips a beat, with a hilarious opening montage spoofing the horror trends that have spawned in the interim signalling the return of Craven in fine form. The kills are some of the franchises best – particularly Anthony Anderson’s brutal demise – and instantly communicated to audiences that although the franchise might be older now, it has lost none of its potency. 4 also signalled a glorious return to form in its big twist killer reveal; a shocking revelation that subverts expectations and works as a perfect update on the killer’s motives for the time.

The best moments, however, come in the ways Craven has fun with his trinity of protagonists; Gale the frustrated creative forced into a life of boredom in the suburbs married to Dewey, now the sheriff of Woodsboro contending with his past back to haunt him and Sydney, now a writer, profiting off her past experiences in the same way as the Gale of old. This allows for some great moments of banter between the three as well as the new generation of teenagers forced to outlast Ghostface in their own digital-era ways. Emma Roberts is the standout here, a young girl trying to come into her own but held back by the shadow of her aunt Sydney and the effect her return has on her otherwise peaceful suburban life. A revitalisation of the franchise that never loses sight of the elements that fans know and love.

2. Scream 2 (1997)

It might have seemed an impossible task to follow up such a monumental hit as Scream but screenwriter Kevin Williamson struck gold again with the first sequel that, despite the odd lapse in logic and some silly decision making by Sydney, manages to be just as much fun as the first, if slightly less fresh. Now a college student, Sydney is once again thrust back into the thick of it as fellow students are torn apart at a screening of Stab – an adaptation of the first film based on the in-universe book written by Gale Weathers – and a string of murders soon follow.

The fun here comes in how Craven deconstructs the idea of the sequel; how closely it should stick to the original and how the genre feels the need to one up itself with each subsequent instalment. Jamie Kennedy’s Randy once again takes centre stage, returning with another hilarious rant on the rules of sequels and the twists and turns that must occur to keep things from getting stale for the audience. More than most horror franchises, Scream’s long-lasting quality and popularity comes from the amount of characterisation given to the core cast and how attached to them we are as fans. Catching up with Campbell, Arquette and Cox’s characters after the traumatic events of the first film is simply a joy, with all three just as compelling as before in their back and forth. The kills are, as Randy suggests, bigger and bloodier than before and the final reveal plays with the original in such a fun way that makes 2 exactly what it says it is: simply a scream.

1. Scream (1996)

Sydney Prescott herself justifies this placement perfectly with a single line from Scream 4: “Don’t fuck with the original”. It’s hard to accurately convey the importance of Wes Craven’s original film in revitalising the stale, waning sub-genre of slasher films; Kevin Williamson’s brilliant, insightful script a much-needed breath of fresh air that made audiences think and laugh about their favourite slasher films as much as fear them. The tried and tested template of teens slowly picked off by a masked killer is flipped on its head when the film proposes that the culprit may in fact be one of these vulnerable teens, throwing a whodunnit component into the mix that forces the characters and audience to question everyone, as well as who they imagine a killer to be within the genre.

Williamson’s meta commentary on the genre itself might just be Scream’s biggest contribution to horror and indeed pop-culture in general, prompting audiences to look more closely at the entertainment they consume in search of the patterns and those rare films and shows that defy the conventions. Craven’s callous disposal of Drew Barrymore’s Casey Becker in the opening scene – whom many believed to be the star of the film due to her popularity at the time – is a testament to this, setting the expectation that no one is safe and putting audiences on the edge of their seats. Neve Campbell launched herself into the public consciousness (alongside The Craft in the same year) as the final girl not to be messed with, a tragic figure who is forced to rise above her problems and, like the audience, question everyone around her in order to survive. Everyone is a suspect and Williamson gives everyone a hook, a reason to both love and suspect them, crafting a film where every kill has stakes and the only way to survive is to follow the rules.