Lest anyone think I was too hard on Master of Terror Wes Craven in my previous post, I will now give credit where credit is due: at least he had the integrity not to stick around and milk the Nightmare on Elm Street franchise for all it was worth. At least, not yet. We’ll forget for the moment that he did return to the series several times, that he later went on to make three Scream movies, and that he’s spent the past few years producing hacky remakes of all his early movies, including Last House on the Left, The Hills Have Eyes, and yes, A Nightmare on Elm Street (due early next year). Let’s cut the guy some slack! He had integrity for a moment, anyway, and that’s more than most of us can claim.
In Craven’s absence, the creative chores (and believe me, they were a chore – to sit through, anyway) were turned over to first time screenwriter David Chaskin and director Jack Sholder (Alone in the Dark). Their story begins five years after the events of the first movie (although, oddly enough, both films clearly take place in the early 1980s), as a new family has moved into the house previously occupied by Nancy and her family. Why has no one taken advantage of this prime real estate at a discount price in the past five years? Teenager Jesse Walsh (Mark Patton) soon learns the answer, as Freddy Kreuger attempts to escape the dream world by taking over his body.
If that sounds vaguely homoerotic, well, those are two words that could be used to describe Freddy’s Revenge as a whole. Jesse certainly seems to have a greater affinity for fellow football player Grady (Robert Rusler) than his putative girlfriend Lisa (Kim Myers), and that’s even before he has the dream where he encounters his coach in a bizarre new wave leather bar.
Even by ’80s standards (which, really, there weren’t any), this is a shoddy excuse for a sequel. Early on, the filmmakers abandon the dream conceit that’s only the whole series’ raison d’etre in favor of Freddy’s scheme to emerge into the real world via Jesse’s body. Thus Freddy’s Revenge plays much more like a convention slasher movie, albeit a curiously bloodless one. Somehow Freddy has acquired new powers since the first film – he has some control over heat and electricity, such that he can create lightning storms in kitchens and cause household parrots to explode. Yet once Freddy has manifested himself in the real world at a pool party, he seems curiously diminished – just a creep in an ugly sweater who didn’t get an invite from the cool kids.
The grand finale is a protracted sequence in which Lisa tries to pull the inner Jesse out of Freddy by various methods, finally resorting to making out with the hideous Kreuger in what proves to be a love-conquers-all resolution, at least until the epilogue reminiscent of the first movie’s: Ha ha, we fooled you, Freddy’s still out there! Well, shit, I already knew that – otherwise I wouldn’t have this pile of DVDs sitting here, ready to suck the life out of me over the coming days.
Best Kill: Really, there’s not much to choose from here, so I’ll have to go with Jesse’s coach, who is first pelted with a variety of balls and other athletic equipment, then tied to a shower stall with jump ropes and beaten to death with towels. I think we can all take some satisfaction from that.
Worst One-Liner: We still haven’t hit the heyday of Freddy’s comedy act, so I’m forced to settle for his response to one terrified teen’s claim that he’s there to help him: “Help yourself, fucker!” Yeah, that’s…that’s really not good.
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