In my brief but torrid (florid? horrid?) career here at MBTV, I've been fortunate enough to recap some truly seminal work. Dune is a masterpiece of sci-fi literature, and I hear tell that this whole Bible thing has managed to pick up a few fans over the years as well. But nothing I've seen yet can equal the immense pop-cultural influence of Scream -- a movie that succeeded in reinvigorating not one, but two film genres, and did so where so many others had failed (namely: Freddy, Jason, Porky, and John Hughes). So let's take a moment to celebrate a movie that's brought us more pale imitations of past success than anyone but Dubya. Ask, and ye shall receive.
No credits on this one, just a smash cut into a ringing phone, and we're off. Current Angel and former Gertie Drew Barrymore moves in to answer. Surprisingly, the caller doesn't ask to speak to Elliot. This may be because it's a wrong number, as Drew says, or also maybe because Williamson was able to control himself (for just once in his life) and skip the Spielberg reference. The phone rings again, and Drew answers with a groan. This time, the "scary" voice wants to chat. In case you were curious, the voice is that of one Robert J. Jackson, who can also be heard on The Powerpuff Girls, and in several well-known video games. Anyway, they banter a bit while Drew makes popcorn, and somehow get onto the subject of horror films. Drew reports that her favorite scary movie is Halloween. The "making of" documentary on the DVD reports that Halloween is Williamson's favorite as well. Incidentally, Wes Craven's favorite is Alien, and Neve's is The Shining, so I'm not sure what went wrong here. Then Drew makes a too-cute in-jokey reference to Nightmare on Elm Street (directed by Scream director Wes Craven), and I remember exactly what went wrong.
More movie meta-chat as we follow Drew into the living room. She pops a tape into the VCR, but doesn't hit play, so the screen shows that bright blue color instead. The caller asks Drew her name. "Why do you want to know?" she asks. "I want to know who I'm looking at," he replies, and Drew suddenly realizes that this one isn't going to work out like most star cameos. She checks outside, locks the doors, and then hangs up. Of course, the phone rings again. I don't know about you, but this is where I stop answering. Drew, on the other hand, picks it up twice more before the caller finally gets her undivided attention by requesting to see "what [her] insides look like." I don't know about you, but this is where I call the cops, and maybe go buy a gun while I'm at it. Drew, on the other hand, keeps answering the phone. This time she tries the old "my boyfriend will kick your ass" line, only to be burned when the caller points out that the boyfriend is bound and gagged out by the pool.
Scream
By the way, this whole "opening with a young girl in a deserted house, getting scary calls from a killer who may or may not be in said house with her" thing was done first (and much better) by Carol Kane in When a Stranger Calls. As we go along here, let's keep a running count of how many scenes, shots, lines, and ideas Kevin steals. I've got to win back my Super Bowl bets (Damn you, Kerry Collins. DAMN YOU!) so I'm setting the over/under at oh, say five thousand. Place your bets now. And yes, I'm aware that stealing ideas is sort of the point of this movie, but this is a film that truly (if incorrectly, grammar-wise) begs the question: At what point does all this stop being homage and start becoming grand theft?
A frightened Drew scrunches down in the corner behind the TV. The caller offers to play a game -- he'll ask movie trivia questions, and if she gets them right, the boyfriend lives. First question: Name the killer in Halloween. Hmm, let's see. Wayne Campbell? Nope. Dr. Evil? Close, but no cigar. It's Michael Myers, from back when an excessively white-faced Mike Myers was a scary thing, instead of a funny one. Drew gets it right. up: Name the killer in Friday the Thirteenth. Drew immediately guesses Jason, which the caller knows is the wrong answer. I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I knew that one too. Drew protests, but she's declared the loser, and the boyfriend gets the lovely parting gift of having his entrails spread all over the patio. I guess that's probably worse than testicular cancer, but presumably just barely.
Back inside, Drew is still cowering behind the blue TV, causing Windows users across the globe to shudder at the sight of yet another blue screen of death. I'm shuddering at the sight of that joke. Anyway, a chair comes flying through the window, and a chase scene scampers in after it. Drew eventually stops running long enough to peek through a window, only to come face-to-face with the eponymously masked killer. "The Scream" was of course painted by Edvard Munch, who of course reminds me of John Munch, and since it amuses me to imagine Richard Belzer wearing that mask, I'll be calling the killer Munch from now on (or at least until it's time to start calling him Skeet). Munch punches through the window, and the chase begins anew. Running. Hiding. Stabbing. Hacking. Before Munch can finish the job, however, Drew knees him in a place that would have made me scream, and crawls away (all while maintaining a ludicrous, epoxy-enhanced death grip on the cordless phone, just so Wes & Williamson can set up the scene).
Scream
“ Anyway, wave bye-bye to Drew, who's among the few actors in this film to move on to brighter pastures. Or has she? ”
DVD Commentary Note: It's at this point in the film (read: less than five minutes in) that Williamson utters the straw that breaks the camel's back, pretentiousness-wise. So far, we've learned that Scream is "special" because it "breaks all the rules" of your typical horror movies. Now he seems to feel that killing a star of Drew "Poison Ivy" Barrymore's magnitude in the first five minutes is a revolutionary development in cinematic history, and not (as we all know it to be) a huge fucking clich. And as long as we're discussing cinematic history, how about we give (or possibly get) it up for the Poison Ivy films -- the only soft-core porn franchise that can boast not one, but THREE highly successful leading ladies: Barrymore, Alyssa "Charmed out of her dress" Milano, and Jaime "Neither Jack nor Jill (but looks like a Jack)" Pressley. I'm surprised (and somewhat gratified) that no one's asked for recaps on those yet. Although I'd definitely be interested.
Back at the ranch, or ranch-style farmhouse in this case, Drew's parents have arrived. They race inside to look for their daughter, who is of course standing just outside their dangerously limited peripheral vision. Also, a stab wound to the left shoulder can apparently render you somehow incapable of speech, since Drew can't manage much more than a gurgle. Munch grabs her, and she collapses to the ground, where he delivers the death blow. Inside, Mom picks up the phone and listens to poor Drew's final breath. Good thing she didn't drop the cordless while being BRUTALLY MURDERED. Mom makes another in-joke reference to Halloween and then rushes outside, only to discover Drew's body hanging from a tree. Okay, first of all, that one's straight out of Silence of the Lambs. Or possibly Children of the Corn, considering how lowball the rest of his references are. Secondly, there were like five seconds between when Munch stabbed her and when the Mom walked outside, and we're supposed to believe that he not only had time to kill her, but also managed to suspend her body (Lecter-style) with some kind of highly complex block-and-tackle system? Whatever. Anyway, wave bye-bye to Drew, who's among the few actors in this film to move on to brighter pastures. Or has she?
Smash cut to Neve Campbell as Sidney Prescott, which I believe may represent one of Williamson's few original character names, although I'm betting Sars burns me on that one. ["The name itself isn't repeated anywhere else, but it's pretty typical of Williamson to give female characters 'boy' names." -- Sars] Sidney's dressed for bed and seated at her computer, typing away (Doogie-style) on what appears to be a journal. As she nods, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at her bedroom window (tm Poe -- hey, if Kev gets to steal, so do I).
Scream
Neve checks it out, and gets a scare when Skeet Ulrich pops out at her. Well, who wouldn't be scared? After careful consideration, I decide to save my "skeet shooting" joke for later in the recap. The Skeeter steps inside, but before he can start to annoy me, there's a knock at the bedroom door. It's Sid's dad, and not only are we subjected to ham-fisted exposition of both Sidney's goofy closet-door/barricade system and her father's mysterious trip to "the Expo," but we have to endure crappy dialogue about Expos while we're at it (note to Canadian readers: that's NOT a baseball joke). Then Dad leaves, presumably heading over to the craft services table to fix himself a meatball sandwich, since he won't be back for another ninety minutes.
Now Skeet starts to annoy me. You know, I've just realized that Skeet Ulrich is basically your poor man's Johnny Depp, who is of course your thinking man's Christian Slater, who may well be the easily-amused man's Ethan Hawke. Of course, they're all just pale imitations of Jack Nicholson, or at least of Jack Nicholson before he himself became a pale imitation of Jack Nicholson (with a girlfriend who's a pale imitation of a girl). Skeet launches into some self-referential pablum about The Exorcist, and TV censorship, and PG-13 versus R and how it all symbolizes the fact that Neve won't have sex with him. Williamson gets so desperate for film-related terms with double meanings that he actually uses the phrase "raw footage" as a euphemism for sex, whatever that's supposed to mean. Anyway, they mack, points on the back-end-style. After a bit, she kicks him out, and as he leaves I finally realize that the music in this scene is Blue Oyster Cult's "(Don't Fear) The Reaper," played at what sounds to be about one-fifth normal speed. Oh, and as the Skeeter climbs out the window, Neve flashes him. How come Joey never gives us a gift like that when she's climbing out the window?
day. Nifty tracking shot of Sidney arriving at school and passing a herd of reporters on the front lawn. Sharp-eyed viewers (or viewers clued in by the commentary track) can spot Linda Blair playing a reporter in the background. Pan up to my Friend and yours, Courteney Cox, playing the preposterously (as well as unoriginally) named Gale Weathers. She gets a quick blurb in, and then we're back to Sid and Rose "Mom, Dad -- meet Marilyn!" McGowan who, while never appearing in a Poison Ivy film, has managed to play the titular character in such screen gems as Devil in the Flesh and Jawbreaker. Rose fills Sid in on the demise of Drew, telling her that she won't be sitting to Sid in English class anymore.
Scream
“ And oh, but speaking of dj vu, let's consider where we might have seen these five particular characters before. ”
Cut (of course) to the empty chair to Sid in English class. Before I can even quake at the prospect of a subtextually relevant Ralph Waldo Emerson reference, Sid gets called to the office. Hey, it's the Fonz! I forgot he was in this. I'm not sure whether he's supposed to be the principal or the superintendent, but I do love a sub-textually relevant Ralph Wiggum reference, so I'm gonna call him Super Nintendo Fonzarelli (which will no doubt get abbreviated to SNF as soon as I get tired of typing it). Super Ninten-- er, SNF tells Sidney that the police are just questioning all of the students to see if any of them have information about the murder. This scene also marks Dewey's first appearance in the film. I'm not sure whether it's David Arquette or one of his many interchangeable siblings, but relevant or not, I hate those damn 1-800-WHAT-EVER commercials, so I'm gonna call him 10-10-2Dewey (which unfortunately doesn't lend itself well to abbreviation). Pretty much nothing happens in this scene, so let's just move on.
Outside. Rose, Neve, and Skeet are seated by a fountain, where they are joined by our final two cast members: Matt "Look at me, I'm in a movie without Freddie Prinze Jr." Lillard and Jamie "Look at me, I'm in a movie where I don't play a surveillance tech" Kennedy. They chat about the police inquiries, and Rose attempts to use Basic Instinct as support for her theory that the killer could be a woman. There's much talk about "gutting" and the various ways in which one might eviscerate another. Neve points out that Lillard's character used to date Drew, and Kennedy and Lillard get into an argument over whether Lillard is enough of a nut in a rut to cut the gut of his former slut. What? I gotta admit, this scene makes a lot more sense if you already know how the movie ends. It pains me to say that Lillard is pretty good in this movie, but I can at least admit that he made me laugh more than once here. Eventually (right around the time Kennedy starts doing his Jerry Lewis impression), Neve gets tired of all the gut-talk (and who isn't really?) and stalks off. Lillard sends us out of the scene with the best bodily-organ pun I've ever heard: "Liver alone."
And oh, but speaking of dj vu, let's consider where we might have seen these five particular characters before. You've got Neve, the spunky brunette with the dead mom and the potentially scandalous father, Skeet the annoying, self-centered (and bad-haired) soulmate, Rose the sassy blonde, Lillard the wacky but lovable sidekick who flaunts school discipline, and of course, "Probably Gay" Randy, the lone male sidekick who shall never know the warmth of love nor the sight of a subplot worthy of his presence. My God, Kevin, the addiction is so bad you're even stealing from yourself! Get. Therapy. Quick.