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Ranked

RANKED – Scream

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)

Dimension Films, 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)

Paramount Pictures, 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)

Dimension Films, 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)

Dimension Films, 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)

Dimension Films, 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.

Categories
Movie Reviews

He’s All That

Netflix, 2021

When celebrities jump into acting from different mediums it can be a tricky situation; for every Arnold Schwarzenegger or Mark Wahlberg there are dozens of unsuccessful Paris Hiltons or Rihannas. As far as something as short form and potentially throwaway as Tik Tok goes, the skills don’t necessarily transfer to the silver screen. That hasn’t stopped Addison Rae, one of the platform’s biggest users, from trying as she stars in cult nineties teen comedy She’s All That in the gender-swapped remake He’s All That. Expectedly, she isn’t exactly Daniel Day Lewis on-screen, but Rae does her best and isn’t as much to blame for the film’s failures as the script itself and the overly cheesy tone.

Taking on the role made famous by Freddie Prinze Jr. in 1999, Rae stars as Padgett – a high-school senior on the cusp of winning prom queen with alongside her budding rap star boyfriend Jordan (Peyton Meyer) as she heads on to a life of internet fame, thanks to her constant online presence and social media branding. When her life is turned upside down by Jordan and her insensitive friend Alden (Madison Pettis), Padgett accepts a dare from Alden to transform the ugliest boy in school into prom king, seeing it as an opportunity to detail her journey and earn back her fame. She settles on outcast Cameron (Tanner Buchanan), inserting herself into his life until he is forced to become her friend and uncovering the prom king potential within. But as Padgett bonds with Cameron, she realises that there is more to him than meets the eye, and that the fame she has placed such an importance on in her life, isn’t as important as genuine human connections.

Netflix, 2021

The original She’s All That is hardly a masterpiece; a formulaic, dated teen comedy with a few standout scenes but precious little else: the prime candidate for a remake improvement. Rae’s version is almost identical story-wise, but instead of fretting over which college she should go to Padgett frets about losing her social media following and sponsorships, and thereby a shot at college. It’s a welcome update that modernises what is now an extremely nineties film, but adds its own wrinkles, namely the cringe-inducing social media cheesiness. Annoying text bubbles and social media posts bombard the screen when Padgett is engaging with her followers, creating a cacophony of noise and garbage that is more irritating than it is engaging. Hell, the messages in the posts feel like they were written by some kind of generic comment AI as opposed to an actual teenager in 2021.

Whilst the film operates under the guise of a remake, what it really is is a showcase for Addison Rae. A statement to the world that she is more than the social media that made her. This is presented through the blatantly obvious “subtext” of Padgett’s crisis of conscience about what social media has done to her as a person and the havoc it has wreaked on her ability to form genuine connections with people that don’t consist of likes or follows. Except we never get to any point of actually condemning social media, likely because Rae is practically the face of an entire platform, and the film can’t – as a genuinely great Kourtney Kardashian puts it – “go viral in the wrong way”. Even after all her supposed growth Padgett continue to maintain this overtly always-online presence, even if it irritates the living hell out of her new beau. Rae is trying to break into acting, but at the same time ensuring she doesn’t bite the hand that feeds her, and that creates a film strangely lacking in the criticism it pretends it is dishing out.

Netflix, 2021

As far as Rae’s actual acting goes it’s fine. There’s a certain magnetic optimism in her facial expressions that the Tik Tok star has cultivated through her endless seconds-long clips that lends itself perfectly to the bouncy, upbeat character of Padgett. When it comes time to hit some more dramatic notes however she seems unsure of how to play the scenes, relying on her more practiced co-star Buchanan to carry her through the more romantic moments. Their chemistry is nowhere to be found, relying on extravagant gestures to show how much the characters care about each other rather than any particularly meaningful conversation or interaction. Thankfully original supporting player Matthew Lillard and co-lead Rachael Leigh Cook return to spice things up, particularly Lillard in a scene stealing performance as a principal who gets away with saying things real principals could only dream of. Their presence is a nice nod to the original, even if they are playing different characters, and iconic returning song “Kiss Me” still hits as hard now as it did two decades ago.

He’s All That functions as more of a launchpad for Addison Rae’s acting career than it does as a loving recreation of a cult classic teen comedy. Mark Waters’ attempt at critiquing the current state of social media and its infection of our lives falls flat thanks to its lead star being be the face of the most trendy social media platform on the planet, with the message so muddied that it is hard not to think how much more relevant the original film’s message – beauty hiding beneath the surface in all of us – is in an age where social media has warped users perception of physical beauty. Addison Rae can act, not particularly well but not as terrible as some may have predicted, and while she’ll likely continue to find work on the strength of her name and brand recognition alone, this debut feels as disposable as one of her Tik Toks.

Netflix, 2021

He’s All That stars Addison Rae, Tanner Buchanan, Madison Pettis, Rachael Leigh Cook, Peyton Meyer, Isabella Crovetti, Annie Jacob, Myra Molloy, Kourtney Kardashian & Matthew Lillard – Streaming on Netflix now.

Rating: 4 out of 10.

4/10