In short: Scream (2022)

Two and a half decades after the first serial killing spree from the original Scream and three sequels, yet another film-critically interested serial killer puts on the old Ghostface costume. A new bunch of kids – our lead being one Sam Carpenter (Melissa Barrera) who has a very interesting family history – has to go through the old rigmarole of murder and ironic explanation of horror movie tropes, even those among them who have the good taste to prefer The Babadook. Eventually, good old Dewey (David Arquette), Gale Weathers (Courteney Cox) and Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell) will have to return too, for that’s the rule of the franchise.

As somebody who is not madly in love with the original Scream movies (except for part two, which is pretty damn great), I didn’t go into this Scream Requel (a term taken from the ironic explain-y scene, so blame the writers, not me) with too many expectations; though I am a big fan of directing duo Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett’s Ready or Not (aka the better Knives Out).

So I was actually pleasantly surprised at how good the film is at fulfilling all the usual sequel wishes fans have for a franchise while being conscious of but not smug about them. Hell, some of the film’s best scenes are directly mirroring scenes from the original Scream - not so much commenting on them ironically but using the audience’s knowledge of them and the resulting expectations as another method to build suspense. Something the film actually manages to do for most of its running time, until it comes to the great unmasking and a climax with way too many running parts. That the killers are mostly lame clichés of mad people you only meet in the movies with non-motives is by now the franchise standard, of course, and apparently not one the directors and writers James Vanderbilt and Guy Busick were willing to change.

Another weakness is the integration of the classic characters into the movie. They are mostly there for the nostalgia factor, to get in a mid-movie kill so that the audience can feel something, and so they can dispatch a mentally ill young woman in the most brutal way imaginable in the final act.

Which doesn’t ruin the film, mind you, but makes me a little sad that this element of the movie isn’t as thoughtful and genuinely clever as the rest of the film but really aims for the lesser goal of fan service. But what can you do?