I have always defended the “Scream” franchise. I thought its originality and impressive connection with modern audiences would prevent it from falling into the trap of mind-numbing stupidity over self-indulgence that plagues nearly every other historic horror franchise, such as “Friday the 13th” or “Nightmare on Elm Street” films. “Scream IV” struggled in some areas but somehow managed to feel fresh. The fourth and fifth installments were also generally successful; really, the only bad film in the franchise was “Scream 3,” and even that entry wasn’t terrible.
Enter “Scream 7.” Directed and written by the franchise’s long-term screenwriter, Kevin Williamson, who was brought in to attempt to clean up the mess left by the Radio Silence-Parmount-Melissa Barrera controversy. Despite Williamson’s extensive familiarity with the franchise, he displays a gross misunderstanding of what these films are. He eliminates the clever tongue-in-cheek humor they are known for and creates a tonal atmosphere of insufferable self-seriousness. The film is so obsessed with the original movies that it attempts to create a Laurie Strode-esque “final girl” aura around Neve Campbell’s Sidney Prescott, despite this going against the very basis of the franchise. “Scream” isn’t a big-picture tale of overcoming trauma; it’s a tight Agatha Christie mystery that understands the role it plays in pop culture.
The actual mystery in the film is abysmal; the reveal is dissatisfying, irrelevant, and frankly, dull. For the whodunit of “Scream” to be successful, the killer needs to be someone with screen time and whom the viewer cares about. The film’s two (three?) murderers, Anna Camp’s neighborly Jessica Bowden and Ethan Embry’s Marco, have neither. They are lousy Ghostfaces and there’s no way around that.
Williamson also seems to forget that the more Ghostface is shown, the more they become just an average person in a Halloween costume, rather than a menacing killer. The multiple out-in-the-open chase scenes are awful and on top of that, the film simply isn’t scary. Besides the solid cold open, there’s not a single memorable scare; the movie does not even manage to keep the viewer on edge. What is a “Scream” movie if it isn’t a mystery and isn’t even scary?
On a slightly more positive note, cinematographers Tim Ives and Ramsey Nickell attempt to use some interesting visual language. The bloody, unfinished garage scene is pulled straight out of an Italian giallo picture. Some chase scenes strive to pay homage to the shadowy masterwork in the 1922 film “Nosferatu,” but the most evident and significant visual inspiration is the original “Halloween.” The film wants to be a “Halloween” movie so badly and it’s not clear why. The franchises are distinctly different, both tonally and structurally, so this obsession creates an aberrant feeling that alienates many long-term devotees. Outside of these attempts, “Scream 7” looks like a mid-tier HBO Max prestige TV show, which is a trend that’s depressingly common in modern horror.
The acting and casting only contribute to the film’s failure. Incredible comedic actors are not allowed to be funny and veteran actors seem to have forgotten how to act overnight. The franchise’s two mainstays, Neve Campbell and Courteney Cox (as the pestering journalist Gale Weathers), show no interest in being here and I can’t really blame them. In fact, the last time they seemed to try was in “Scream 4”. Cox, specifically, has multiple laughably bad line deliveries. This isn’t all their fault, as the characters are more caricatures to move the plot along and Cox confusingly disappears for the film’s climactic 45 minutes, which had me guessing she would be the narrative’s killer — which would at least have been interesting.
Every other newly introduced teenage side character is just treading water until they’re brutally killed, which is incredibly disappointing because this has been one of the franchise’s strong suits in the past. Similar to the film’s obsession with “Halloween,” its kills are more reminiscent of 1980s slashers rather than the past “Scream” installments. Not that it’s distinctly bad, but just another way Williamson strays from the franchise.
Maybe in a cheap repertory theater in 20 years, “Scream 7” could be entertaining if you’re talking with your friend in the back row during the runtime. That, or perhaps background noise at a Halloween party, is the only environment where this film might be worth watching. “Scream” fans will be insulted and average viewers will be bored to death. Given its staggering $100 million opening weekend, I’m sure we will get several more of these films, and hopefully, they can claw their way back to the original’s magnificence.
