If there is one thing the cast and creators of Scream 3 are insistent upon, it is that this film is not a sequel. Director Wes Craven has repeatedly denied it as such, and the characters of the film take great pains to analyze the category that they feel this "chapter" lies in: the trilogy. You see, Scream 3 is not the sequel to Scream 2, the sequel to Scream. This is a separate installment, a unique portion of a long plotted-out tale which coincidentally happens to bear the cognomen of... Scream 3. Is it just me, or does this title still happen to have a touch of, oh, sequelness to it?
That is the downfall of the Scream trilogy right there -- namely, that they suddenly decided to deem it as one. The first installment of the series revitalized a genre slowly dying from an overdose of insipid cliches, bad production values, and worse sequels. While best known for offering a witty, insiders take on horror, the reason for the success of Scream also had to do with the fact that fallen scribe Kevin Williamson created characters we could relate to and believe in.
And damn, look at that pre-WB teen invasion cast! Rose McGowan. Matthew Lillard. Drew Barrymore. Jamie Kennedy. Pre-AT&T David Arquette. Unique, talented, off-beat actors in a (for the time) very unique film. The same holds true of the second, more maligned installment -- while not up to par with the original, Scream 2 delivered the wit, the gore, and managed to at least disprove its own toted "sequels suck" theory.
Of course, Scream 2 also killed off the very character who made such theories possible -- the beloved, bereaved Randy Meeks. And fittingly, it is Randy who appears in the radically inferior third episode (that's the preferred term now, isn't it?) to tell us about the series' new trilogy status. In a trilogy, Randy informs us from a pre-victim taping, all bets are off. A trilogy involves an elaborate backstory which appears in the third installment, as well as the offing of several main characters. It goes on from there, a list of rules that rarely hold up uniformly in any sort of series, and certainly not in the horror genre.
For the horror genre does not invite trilogies, has never had a trilogy, and generally doesn't even have any "rules" for the third installment, as it tends to for sequels. Witness Halloween 3, in which Michael Myers does not appear. Friday the 13th 3, in 3-D. And now Scream 3, the film which takes the old "It's not a horror film" mantra and tacks the word "sequel" at the end, proving its own theory by not only discarding the wit, spirit, scares and emotional verve of the first two films but by ignoring the previous plotlines altogether. By the end of Scream 3 it is hard to care who the killer is, because he or she will inevitably be chosen at random. Craven is right, it's not a sequel. That's because Scream 3 is barely a Scream movie to begin with. This fiasco hinges on I Know What Movie Sucked territory.
The plot of Scream 3 attempts to move away from the standard high school/college students get whacked by a witty, homicidal horror trivia buff in a ghostface mask plot by creating an elaborate tale involving Maureen Prescott, Sydney's (Neve Campbell) mom. The problem is, no one cares, certainly not the 15 or so main characters in the movie. Unlike the first two films, which focused, naturally, on Sydney's plight, Scream 3 revolves around fictional sequel Stab 3 and its endless and endlessly boring cast. Is the sight of Jenny McCarthy playing, so surprisingly, a blonde bimbo who can't act, really going to bring anything but a yawn to anyone's face, even if she does die violently? You know it's coming, after all. It's Jenny McCarthy.
In fact, if you want to get all trilogy about it, I'd liken the supporting cast of this film to the Ewoks of Return of the Jedi. And as pseudo Stab 3 Sydney, Emily Mortimer is the Wicket of the Scream trilogy. A more grating, annoying performance I have not seen -- they should have hired this chick to play the supposed-to-be annoying pseudo Gale Weathers, who is well-played by Parker Posey. Posey, as well as the excellent Courtney Cox and underrated David Arquette, are really the saving grace of this installment, rescuing us from the idiocy of the supporting characters and the human Sominex that is Neve Campbell.
Scream 3 is a painful, lifeless sequel. It is Scream-by-numbers, Scream without a pulse, a heart, or an ounce of creativity. Efforts to downplay the gore and violence not only betray the tone of the original but transform the current film into a standard, not particularly effective thriller. Perhaps that's what Craven, eager to get away from his blood-stained past, intended. But this isn't why audiences flocked to Scream in 1996, or generally praised its sequel a year later. Maybe, after so many lame rip-offs, wannabes and films co-starring Jennifer Love Hewitt's two breasts, the overplayed self-referential teen horror genre is finally dead. Considering the overall quality of such films of late, this is probably for the best. But man, what a lame way to go!
DROOL FACTOR: Patrick Dempsey as Detective Kincaid, baby. I first discovered Patrick after his stunning turn in Mobsters, the Christian Slater/Richard Grieco/Dempsey crime story that anyone who was a 12-year-old female in 1991 remembers very well. (Hey, Richard Grieco was hot then!) Suffice it to say Patrick has aged nicely, even if the haircut is a bit, well, 1991. Passing props to the goofy but cute David Arquette as well, even if he is insane.
GROSS-OUT FACTOR: Post-Columbine contentions have reduced a once gruesome series into a candy-ass shadow of its former, blood-splattered self. Bleh.
STRONG CHICK FACTOR: Sure she's a bitch, and sure I could probably push Courtney Cox over with my pinkie finger, but Gale Weathers still manages to kick some sort of ass. As Gale's Stab 3 doppelgänger, Parker Posey annoys but at least manages to hold her own ground. As for the rest of this crew -- Jenny McCarthy, Emily "Ewok" Mortimer, and especially the life-draining Neve Campbell -- don't even bother.
-- Sarah Kendzior
Scream 3 is currently playing in theaters.
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