Memories of Scream

I’ve been thinking a lot about Scream lately – both the individual film, and the franchise as a whole. I guess with Scream 4 coming out in a few weeks, it’s been burrowing its way into my head; I keep seeing the banners online and the posters at the theater. But while I’m certainly curious about the film, and plan on seeing it, I can’t seem to get too excited about it. That’s not to say that I’m dreading it; I don’t expect it to be horrible – but the marketing clearly intends for me to feel some kind of rush of excitement that this well-regarded franchise is finally making its return to cinemas – and I simply do not feel that rush of excitement, nor does anyone I know.

Which is interesting, because there was a time in my life when Scream 4 would have been my most anticipated film of the year. I’m still a big fan of Scream, but my enthusiasm for it today is absolutely nothing when compared with how much I loved that film when I was younger. When I first saw Scream it completely blew me away. I’d never seen anything like it. I was floored by the wit of the dialogue, and the cleverness of its premise. I’d seen movies about making movies, but I’d never seen a movie so keenly aware that it was a movie. Not to mention that it was an exciting thriller full of great performances.

It’s strange how many specific little things I can remember about my experience with Scream. I still remember the first time I watched it. It was a Friday night, during the summer between seventh and eighth grade. Scream 2 had come out earlier that year. My mom had taken us to Blockbuster Video, and the three of us were each allowed to pick a movie to rent. Mine was Scream; I don’t remember what my brother and sister got that night.

If I recall correctly we started the movie pretty late that evening, most likely because my younger sister would get to go first because she wouldn’t be allowed to watch the movies my brother and I had chosen. I remember watching it with my brother, and when it was over just being at a loss for words. The next morning when I woke up, I immediately went out to the family room and started the movie up again. And when it was finished, I rewound the tape, and watched it a second time. After that, I went about the rest of my day. But at the end of the day, when all was finished, I popped it back in and watched it yet again. I don’t know if I’ve ever done that with any other movie.

As soon as I had the money, I went straight to the mall and picked up a copy of the film. I remember there were multiple covers for the film – the traditional ensemble image and also some character-specific ones. I chose a Gale/Courtney Cox cover because It “Includes Exclusive Behind-The-Scenes Scream Featurrette!”, something not promised on the normal box.

For the rest of that summer, and to a lesser extent for the next two years or so, I would watch that VHS tape over, and over, and over again. I made sure every one of my friends had seen Scream. I would quote the movie endlessly. I was obsessed. Because of this obsession, I feel I can safely say that I’ve seen Scream more times than I have ever seen any other movie (With the possible exception of Lethal Weapon. I had a hell of a tryst with that, as well, but I’m pretty sure Scream got more viewings in the end).

What was it, precisely, that captivated me so much about Scream? I guess I’d have to say that it hit me at just the right moment. I was just starting to get really fanatic about film, but I hadn’t yet started exploring more of the arthouse side of cinema. I was still mostly a popcorn kind of guy. And Scream is one hell of a popcorn flick.

The thing that I find most interesting, though, is that I was such a rabid fan of a movie that was all about satirizing and embracing the conventions of a genre of film I was completely unfamiliar with. I’d heard about Friday the 13^th and A Nightmare On Elm Street. I knew what they were about. But I’d never seen any of these films. In fact, of all the horror films referenced by name in Scream, Psycho was the only one that I had actually seen before. Scream is a film meant to appeal to die-hard horror fans, and yet here I was, a virtual horror virgin, loving it every bit as much. It seems odd, but I think that’s a testament to the accessibility of Williamson’s script. If you’re already a horror fan, the movie is like a fellow geek, chatting away with you about all your favorite movies. If you’re uninitiated, it acts like a friendly mentor, gleefully teaching you about all the formulas and clichés of its predecessors. You can feel the love for the material in Scream, and I can hardly think of a better introduction to the genre.

So it feels a little odd to me, that with all the love and nostalgia and respect I have for Scream, that I can’t seem find it within myself to get too overly excited about Scream 4. Yet at the same time it feels like the most natural thing in the world. I’m a fan of Scream 2. It’s not the watershed film that the first one was, but it’s fun and exciting and ultimately an enjoyable sequel, though I have my issues with it. The third one, however, I am not a fan of. Not in the slightest. I remember how excited I was for that film when it was first announced. How anxiously I awaited its release. I went with my friend to see it on opening day, and we purchased tickets for Toy Story 2 because we were only 14 and couldn’t buy tickets to an R-rated movie. We went into the theater and sat patiently, excited about what we were about to see.

But mostly I remember the disappointment. The frustration that built as these vacuous characters spoke awful dialogue, making jokes that didn’t land, and completely lacking any kind of chemistry or truthfulness. All of the authenticity that poured from the previous two films was gone. Instead it felt forced, it felt trite. It felt secondhand. Where the other two films had subverted genre convention while simultaneously embracing it, this one put on a ridiculous rubber mask of “self-awareness” while it idiotically rolled around in the mudpit of cliché.

And it also made the stupid mistake of trying to link its events back to those of the first film, which pretty much never works in any film. Now, I understand why they felt the need to do this. It feels a lot grander to make everything tie in with one another. And if done correctly it can really make the trilogy feel of a piece, rather than disjointed. But if you screw it up – and it’s extremely easy to screw it up – all you end up doing is calling attention to how separate the individual pieces really are. And while they put in a valiant effort with this one, it doesn’t come together, and really just serves to hurt the series.

So what you end up with is a fantastic film, a really good film, and a lousy film, all lumped together, and you let it sit for 10 years. No wonder I can’t get excited about Scream 4. I’ve had The Scream Trilogy staining my memories of Scream for over a decade. That’s my biggest frustration with all the meaningless sequels we get these days. As much as the first film still exists on its own, it’s damn hard to keep the subsequent films from affecting your perception of it.

Just take a look at The Matrix. Ever since the sequels were released, it’s impossible to have a proper conversation about how game-changing and incredible The Matrix was, because it has to be followed by a second, longer conversation about how terrible Reloaded and Revolutions were, and how they undermined everything that was significant and cool about the first one. Sometimes you’ll mention The Matrix to people and they’ll actually scoff at it, as if it were just some shitty blockbuster, when it’s possibly one of the most influential films of the last 20 years. Honestly, there isn’t a single action film to come out in the last 12 years that has not been directly influenced by The Matrix. Trust me, in as much time, the same will not be said of Resident Evil: Afterlife. The difference is worth noting.

A more recent example would be the Saw movies. When Saw was released in 2004, it was just this little independent flick made by two Australian dudes that no one had ever heard of. Its marketing campaign was based around the fact that it was more violent and more intense than anything Hollywood was making at the time, and it stretched its low budget by utilizing a one-room premise to suspenseful effect. But now, after Saw 3D: The Final Chapter, the franchise has become the posterchild of Hollywood excess. There are seven of the goddamn things, each with bigger traps, bigger twists, and bigger body counts than the last. Replace the dismemberments with explosions and you’ve got Transformers: Revenge Of The Fallen.

Now, Scream hasn’t suffered the same kind of character assassination that those films did. Scream 3 is a mess, to be sure, but it’s only one film. The amount of time between then and now, however, has allowed Scream’s legacy to fade a bit. When the trailers for Scream 4 arrived, we were meant to be reminded of how awesome those films were, but instead, we’re only reminded of how they went out on a sour note. But they promise that Scream 4 will be different. That 4 will take on the current status quo of horror with the same kind of wit and humor and enthusiasm that the original did. That is will recapture the same fresh and original voice of that original film.

That's an interesting prospect, and one for a film I'd be very excited to see. But fresh and original aren’t exactly the domain of a movie with the number 4 in its title, so I am forced to remain cautiously hesitant, however hopeful.

--Miles

First post!

If I recall correctly, I set this blog up in May of last year, shortly after Iron Man 2 was released, with the intent of writing film reviews, etc. But I soon grew discouraged with the idea and shelved it. And so, this blog has remained, sitting here empty, for the better part of nine months. However, my interest was recently rekindled, but I knew that if I took too long to get started I would simply get discouraged again. So I needed to act fast.

I started brainstorming ideas for postings. I had a few ideas, and I felt confident I had enough to say to fill a blog posting about each one of them, but for some reason or another they all felt flimsy.

The first was a comparison of the films RoboCop and Starship Troopers. The two films are extremely similar: both written by Ed Neumeier and directed by Paul Verhoeven, both are political/social satires in the guise of action films. They have similar tones, similar structures, and rousing musical scores by Basil Poledouris. But while RoboCop is generally well-regarded, Starship Troopers has received a far more mixed response. Perhaps a detailed look at the successes and failures of both films could be revealing as to the source of this discrepancy.

But it seemed a little self-indulgent to start off with something like that. It's 2011, and those films were released in 1987 & 1997. Surely I could think of something a bit more topical than that, something people would be more interested in reading.

I had another idea for an essay about Lethal Weapon, and how it's story and themes were reflective of the national mood in the years following the Vietnam War. This one was at least a little bit topical, as there's been some recent news regarding a possible remake, but the premise was thin. I thought up several examples from the film to support my thesis, but at the end of the day it was all conjecture. I'm only 25; what the hell do I really know about how Americans were feeling after the Vietnam War? The concept was simple hypothesis, and it felt a little like bullshit.

My other ideas were a little more basic: A post about how Footloose is a deeper movie than people give it credit for; one dissecting the line between art and pornography; an analysis of what makes for a good film adaptation of a literary work; a simple review of the most recent film I'd seen in theaters; an in-depth discussion of one of my favorite movies.

There was no shortage of ideas.

But finding the right one seemed impossible. This was my first post, after all, and I wanted to put my best foot forward. You never get a second chance to make a first impression, and the more I thought about every idea, the more each one seemed like the wrong choice. They either felt pretentious and faux-intellectual, or hollow and surface-y. I wanted to come off as clever and articulate, but I didn't want to seem boring. I wanted to dig deep and get really geeky, but I didn't want to be off-putting to casual film-viewers.

Ultimately, though, the problem was simple: I wanted that first post to be absolutely perfect, and no matter what it was about, it simply wasn't going to be. Because I am not perfect, and am therefore incapable of writing something perfect.

And as I sat here tonight looking at the blank screen, I realized that I had the answer to my problem sitting right in my pocket.

In February of 2010 I purchased a Moleskine notebook at my local Barnes and Noble. Here is the first page of that notebook:

Alright. Today is Monday, August 9th, and I am only now making it to this notebook. I bought this in early February, at the same time that I purchased George R.R. Martin's A Storm Of Swords. The reason I hadn't written in it until now was that I felt daunted by the idea of starting a new notebook. I felt the pressure of making everything I wrote worthwhile. So, of course, nothing ever seemed good enough. It's a trap I've fallen into many times before. So let this notebook, and particularly this first page, be a reminder that if you wait for things to be perfect, you'll wait forever. At the end of the day, it's just a notebook. And it's not the end of the world if not everything I write in it is brilliant.

There it was: The Exact. Same. Problem.

A problem I'd found a suitable solution to. A lesson learned, a conflict resolved. And yet here I was, months later, putting myself through the same crap all over again.

So here it is. My first post. It's not perfect, but I think it's pretty good, and I'm going to have to live with that.

It is my intention to write a new post at least once a week. Hope you enjoy....