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What’s your favorite scary movie?
Nah, that’s too trite.
What horror movie would you show to someone who has never seen one before?
You may have the same answer to both questions, but the latter requires a bit more thought. John Carpenter’s Halloween is my favorite movie, but I recognize it most likely would not hold up under the scrutiny of a viewer who’s used to flashy modern cinema.
Instead, I would show them Wes Craven’s Scream.
I know what you’re thinking: wouldn’t Scream‘s meta references be lost on a viewer unfamiliar with the trappings of the genre? But one of the many brilliant aspects of Kevin Williamson’s script is how it brazenly draws attention to the tropes before turning them on their head. The meta approach also gives the film a timeless quality, despite it otherwise being very much of-the-moment circa 1996. Sure, there are references that may go over a newcomer’s head, but for the most part Williamson ensures everyone is in on the joke.
I speak from experience, as Scream is one of the first horror movies I ever saw. It was the TV premiere; I want to say it was on Fox, probably around Scream 3‘s release in 2000, but I haven’t been able to find any confirmation of the airing. I was in middle school, about 11 years old or so. I vividly recall staying up past my bedtime to see the ending and then being scared that Ghostface would get me when I walked to the bus stop the next morning.
It’s rare for a derivative work to best the original, but Scream built on the tension of When a Stranger Calls to create the greatest horror movie opening of all time, bar none. It all starts with a phone call. Even I knew who Drew Barrymore was, thanks to The Wedding Singer, and was shocked to see her killed so mercilessly. Craven eloquently conducts a symphony of suspense that remains shocking today, when landlines are virtually antiques.
Although I first saw it cropped to 4:3 full screen, I would later come to appreciate how Craven and director of photography Mark Irwin (who, incidentally, shot one of my favorite movies as a kid, Dumb and Dumber) masterfully utilized the 2.39:1 anamorphic widescreen format throughout the film, accentuated by Marco Beltrami’s spine-chilling score.
Like a ’90s update to John Hughes’ brat pack of the prior decade, the ensemble consists of relatable, modern characters played by a hot, young cast spouting hip dialogue. Beyond being good actors individually, a believable camaraderie exists among them. Neve Campbell earns the distinction of being perhaps horror’s all-time greatest final girl with a nuanced performance as the vulnerable yet resourceful Sidney Prescott.
Skeet Ulrich brings to mind a young Johnny Depp — who Craven helped put on the map with A Nightmare on Elm Street — in the role of Sidney’s unhinged boyfriend, Billy. Friends star Courteney Cox plays against type as aggressive reporter Gale Weathers. David Arquette effectively harnesses Nicolas Cage-like eccentricities as the boyish, bumbling Deputy Dewey. Not to be outdone, Matthew Lillard goes full operatic with his saliva-laden performance as Billy’s co-conspirator, Stu. Jamie Kennedy serves as an analog for the viewer as Randy, the resident movie geek who calls out characters’ foolish decisions. Rose McGowan rounds out the cast as Sidney’s feisty best friend, Tatum.
As much talent as there was both behind and in front of the camera, much of Scream‘s success can be attributed to happenstance: Craven passed on the gig at first and was almost fired during production. The mask was found while location scouting. Drew Barrymore was originally cast as Sidney before deciding she wanted to play Casey. Arquette was asked to read for Billy before expressing interest in Dewey (despite him being younger than Ulrich, Lillard, and Kennedy).
Between Williamson’s pitch-perfect script and Craven’s sharp direction, Scream delivers thrills, chills, and laughs in nearly equal measure. Although far from the first slasher to dovetail into an murder-mystery, Scream‘s two-killer reveal is arguably the most effective use of the format this side of Agatha Christie. It would be a stretch to call the film a horror-comedy, but much of the satirization holds up. Roger Jackson’s disquieting voice of the killer strikes a balance between brilliance and menace akin to Hannibal. That the Ghostface costume was readily available at every Halloween shop lends verisimilitude, as does the killer’s clumsiness.
Having extended the longevity of the slasher genre once before with A Nightmare on Elm Street in 1984, Scream made Craven responsible for revolutionizing the entire genre. A sleeper hit that grossed over $100 million domestically on a $14 million budget, Scream launched a new boom of teen-focused, self-aware horror movies hoping to cash in on its success. But with even the best of them failing to come close to matching Scream‘s ingenuity, audiences grew tired of the trend.
The legion of shameless imitators became something of an albatross around Scream‘s neck. Much like how Saw is often maligned for jump-starting the so-called “torture porn” trend of the aughts, Scream became guilty by association. With the likes of Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, and Freddy Krueger having cemented themselves as horror icons, Ghostface was the new kid on the block trying to prove his worth.
Love it or hate it, Scream‘s status as a horror classic is indisputable after nearly three decades. It was upon revisiting the franchise in anticipation of last year’s “requel,” I came to the realization that not only is Scream one of my favorite movies but it would also be a perfect choice to indoctrinate a newcomer to the genre.
So, what horror movie would you show to someone who has never seen one before?
