The Nightmare on Elm Street Series (A Review)
Since it's almost Halloween...
The “A Nightmare on Elm Street” series has earned a lasting presence in our cultural memory, balancing our worst fears of vulnerability (we all need to let down our guard in order to sleep) with an almost comfortingly jovial murderer. While Fred Krueger is a being of absolute malevolence in the first film, he gradually becomes the charismatic core of the series, placing his emphasis on flamboyance rather than the act of killing, itself. Strange as it seems, the Nightmare series becomes a very safe kind of horror story, in which the killer doesn’t seem like such a bad guy. Sure, you have to worry about dying, but at least the rest of it (death scenarios in which an RPG fanatic gets to fight Freddy as a Wizard, or a martial arts fan faces off against Freddy in a Bruce Lee inspired death match) can almost be fun. Though the later films are seriously lacking in credibility, parts 1, 3, and 4 feature some excellent characters and stories.
A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) B+
The first and darkest of the Nightmare films is seen from the point of view of Nancy, a sweet, suburban teenage girl that represents our innocence and vulnerabilities, and grows to represent our capacity for inner strength and bravery, as well. Nancy (Heather Langenkamp) and Krueger (Robert Englund), bring amazing presence to their limited, two-dimensional characters and are supported by fantastic direction and special effects, but much of the supporting cast proves to be a drain on this otherwise stellar film. Johnny Depp debuts as Nancy’s boyfriend, and proves to be completely unreadable in the role. Nancy’s best friend is no better, but at least does a good job of chanting “Nancy” as a ghost. Nancy’s parents are intended to be unlikable, but succeed perhaps a little too well. In general, I find myself wishing most of the character-developing scenes will end quickly so that we can get back to the scenes that really make the film tick; the confrontations between an undead serial killer and his self-confident young prey.
Langenkamp and Englund play off of each other amazingly well, particularly in their final dramatic interaction, where Nancy retracts all the power that she has leant to her walking nightmare. This dramatic rivalry is echoed well by the script, which has the two characters subtly develop in parallel, both discovering the extent of their abilities at the same time. Indeed, it isn’t until the end of the film that Krueger seems to realize his complete ability to warp and manipulate the line between dream and reality, an ability he discovers only in response to Nancy achieving the apex of her inner strength.
While Freddy has been an unstoppable opponent throughout the film, it is only in the final scene that we see him evolve beyond the part of a serial killer that chases you in your dreams. He becomes a god of the nightmare world, controlling everything within it. It is during this time that we also get our first hint of Freddy’s creative, flamboyant flare, having the roof of a demonic convertible painted red and brown to resemble his trademark shirt. As the film closes, we’re terrified, but somewhat in awe of Krueger’s final achievement. We start to like the enemy we’ve tried so hard to thwart.
A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge (1985) D
Freddy’s Revenge attempts to take the symbolic meaning of fear to a new level, literally internalizing the predatory Krueger persona within the main character, a teenage boy named Jesse Walsh. In this film, Freddy uses Jesse’s body to commit murders, first when Jesse is sleeping and later even when he is awake. The psychological aspect of the premise is remarkable: A teen boy struggling with his inner demon who fantasizes about rape and murder. In many ways, Freddy has always represented a form of forbidden sexuality and violence, from the bathtub scene with Nancy in the first film to the overtly sexual needle fingers scene in part 3. Perhaps that’s why the fact that Freddy is using and preying upon a male main character for the first and only time leaves an uncomfortable homosexual undertone.
As a male, Jesse also seems less innocent and vulnerable (perhaps the very point of the film), making it harder to identify with him, even if his dark side makes him a more honest portrayal of humanity than Nancy was in the first film. Jesse is no more flat and unoriginal a character than most of the other Elm Street protagonists, but he doesn’t leave us much to like about him either. There’s nothing innately appealing about a teen with issues, even to a teen with issues.
It’s interesting how this film both does and doesn’t respect the one that came before it. On the one hand, Freddy has attached himself to the house from the first film (this is probably the only long-term contribution that part 2 makes to the larger series). On the other hand, Krueger’s primary objective in the first film was to kill the children of the Elm Street residents who killed him. Yet, in this film, he focuses on a teen who’s new to the town and completely outside of the Elm Street drama, all because he has moved into Nancy’s old house. The fact that Freddy is so interested in using Jesse to target other people (kids and gym teachers alike) might suggest that he has already succeeded in killing all of the remaining Elm Street kids (after all, this film does take place five years in the future). However, this interpretation is contradictory to the premise of part 3, in which all the remaining Elm Street kids make their stand together. More importantly, this change in Freddy’s objectives during part 2 goes mostly unexplained.
In terms of the story, this film is neither as exciting as the other films, nor as consistent in its keeping with the Freddy traditions. The conflict is very different (issues of self-control rather than issues of survival from a homicidal external force) and is far more discomforting than it is thrilling, as a result. The conclusion, in particular, in which Freddy is conquered by the power of love, is highly disappointing. No epic battle ensues, just a lot of hugging. This is a very psychological film, trying to borrow the earlier premise in order to tell a very different story, but it is not a Freddy film. It works in a sense, but does not deliver on its obligations to the franchise, in general.
Freddy’s Revenge is the most forgettable of the Elm Street installments. The remaining four films in the series (prior to New Nightmare, which stands on its own) all remain consistent with each other and with the first film, but conveniently choose to ignore this uncharacteristic installment, never again referring to any of the events that occur within it. As a result, you won’t miss anything by skipping the film entirely.
A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors (1987) B+
Dream Warriors is both a return to the traditions of the first Elm Street film and a major evolution of the tradition as well. The film works hard to align itself with the first one, bringing Nancy back as a central character, and creating another “Freddy’s just a bad dream” scenerio as friends start dropping left and right. Yet, at the same time, Dream Warriors establishes itself as a team film, with many central characters all working together to take down a common foe.
The difference is striking. Whereas the first film was largely terrifying because no one believed (or was strong enough to support) our main character, this film balances its terror with a feel-good sensation that comes from all of these misunderstood victims joining together to confront their antagonist. This is further aided by the fact that they are “crazy” together in a psychiatric ward, and that they have two adults who believe them, even while the rest of the adults in their world are cruel and dismissive. Finally, the most unique “feel-good” contribution to this film is the discovery that each of these surviving Elm Street teens has a super power that they can harness and control within their dreams. Suddenly, our heroes have a fighting chance against the all-powerful unknown.
On the flip side, this film marks the beginning of the more playful, humorous Freddy, who seems to delight in concocting elaborate dream scenarios tailored to the individual’s tastes, far more than he delights in the actual kill. At this point, the scenarios are still terrifying, but far more fantastic than the practically universal fear of a maniac with claws running after you. Freddy’s face is more visible and well lit in this film, and he has far more dialogue, with a less gritty voice and a newfound, horribly corny sense of humor. Freddy is still bad, but his cloak of dark mystery is shed, and his particular brand of fear has become more distanced and flamboyant. This time, it’s hard not to find him endearing while he slays our protagonists, one by one.
Elm Street 3 establishes a thrilling, adventurous center for the series that each successive film tries its best to replicate. Here, the Nightmare Series moves out of the pure horror genre and into something far more escapist and fun. There’s still a lot of genuine fear in this film, but there’s a strong sense of hope, camaraderie, and fantastic empowerment as well. We might respect the first film for teaching us that there is fantastic courage within us all, but we like Dream Warriors for teaching us that we can fly if we dream hard enough.
A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master (1988) B
Elm Street 4 is the first film in the series that generally smells like a sequel. Its events continue directly from those of the third film, with our heroes reunified just long enough to die. Our complete shock and outrage at watching these cherished characters get bumped off so easily is soon replaced with a new fear: Freddy has finished off the Elm Street children and found a (very clever) way to move on to a fresh batch of teen victims.
As a sequel to Dream Warriors, The Dream Master can only be seen as a disappointment. Two of the three major characters that return (Kristin and Joey) do not resemble the characters we cared for in the previous film. A single year of safe living has irrevocably changed them into boring, normal, and somewhat unlikable teens. After all, it was their haunted, vulnerable quality that drew us in and made us care about these otherwise personality-dead protagonists. Of course, that doesn’t make us happy about the fact that Freddy kills them so quickly. It’s hard to look at the band of teens that replaces them and not measure them against our cherished Dream Warriors.
Yet, at the same time, this new team offers their own particular brand of charm. They are tight knit, diverse, and each possessing of at least one two-dimensional trademark that sets each apart from the other. Most likeable of the bunch is Kristin’s boyfriend, Rick, who uses his own particular brand of boyish charm to counteract the gravity of their morbid predicament.
Ultimately, and not altogether surprisingly, the spotlight of this film moves from Kristin (a central character in Dream Warriors) to Alice, Kristin’s soft-spoken friend. Alice is a highly compelling protagonist, if for no other reason than the fact that she lacks self-confidence. We, as an audience, realize that she will need to find that sense of self-confidence and empowerment in order to defeat Freddy. Whereas Dream Warriors showed a group of friends banding together to defeat their enemy, The Dream Master makes the interesting choice of having a single timid figure learn to draw her strength and powers from the love and memory of her (dead) friends. In the process, she defeats Freddy and finds herself.
Though Alice is no more complex than any of the other Elm Street kids (in any of the films), her particular predicament gives us no choice but to take an active interest in her persona. Alice’s development gives us a sense of reward and triumph in the face of a semi-dark antagonist. As Alice gains the confidence to confront Freddy one-on-one, it becomes tempting to draw parallels with Alice’s home life, in which she lacks the courage to stand up to her alcoholic father. It’s no surprise that daddy is off the booze and attending AA meetings in the next film, following Alice’s victory in this one.
The only truly regrettable aspect of The Dream Master is its method of “off-ing” Freddy. Dream Warriors gave us a solution that truly seemed convincing and permanent. It’s troubling enough that Freddy finds no difficulty in returning to his favorite hobby after that, but even more disturbing that we’re supposed to exchange it with the hack solution that Alice discovers at the end of this film.
Elm Street 4 is an all around good film, with a higher caliber of acting and production value than any of the films before it. In many ways, it is incapable of measuring up to Dream Warriors as a sequel, but in other ways, it finds a strength and success that are all its own.
A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child (1989) D
In many ways, The Dream Child seeks only to repeat the formula that worked well enough for the previous film. We begin with two survivors from the previous film, one of which dies early on, leaving the other survivor (Alice) to try to convince her newfound group of tight-knit friends that Freddy exists and is killing again. Naturally, no one believes her until enough friends start dropping dead. The general concept works, except that these friends lack the personalities and group dynamic of the friends in the previous film. They are all introduced in a gratuitous “meet the new friends” scene, in which each personality and individual conflict is introduced systematically. Friend A has an overbearing mother that pushes her daughter to become a beauty queen (watching over her shoulders to the extent that she loses all believability as a real character). Friend B is the clown who loves comic books. Friend C likes to swim and doesn’t believe in superstition. All in all, these characters feel strained, lacking even the rich one dimension that the previous film lent to its supporting characters. Only the comic book fanatic expresses any personality at all when he finds himself unable to handle the death of his romantic interest. It’s nice to see this contrast when compared to the numerous other Elm Street teens that stopped to cry when a friend died and then moved on as if nothing had happened.
The general plot of this film is quite interesting, even when its execution feels labored and repetitive. Freddy’s new method of interacting with the real world is clever and not immediately obvious to the audience. Unfortunately, it depends upon our innocent Alice from the last film becoming pregnant after having careless, unprotected sex with her boyfriend (which we’re forced to watch in the opening credits). It’s a bit of a leap for the audience, which is still adjusting to the fact that Alice no longer whispers when she talks and has stopped wearing ankle-length skirts. Alice’s pregnancy is a genuine effort by the filmmaker to send a responsible, pro-life message to the teens of the audience, but the message feels too conscious and labored. It’s a nice try, but perhaps too serious of a point to be making in a brain-candy slasher flick.
There are several aspects of the plot in this film that are bothersome. First of all, a major point is made early on that the comic book lover can’t stand the sight of blood. One would think this is an obvious foreshadow of things to come, yet his issues with blood never return. In fact, he ends up receiving the most bloodless death of any of Freddy’s victims (at least until after he’s dead). A second plot point that’s introduced and then forgotten emerges part way through the film, when Alice's dead boyfriend’s parents want to take her baby from her, threatening legal action if necessary. The absurdity of such a threat aside (everyone knows no court in hell would back their claim), this conflict is abandoned immediately after it’s introduced. Alice laments that she’ll have to devote a significant part of her energy to this new problem, yet we never hear of it again.
A third, larger problem comes with the intervention of Freddy’s mother, a dead nun that promises to be the ultimate means of stopping Krueger once and for all. Alice spends a significant part of the film seeking her out, and Freddy seems terrified that she will return to stop him. Yet, when Amanda Krueger finally intervenes in the end, she is clearly no match for Freddy, seeming even more terrified and helpless to stop him than Alice ever was. Not only does this play against the expectations that the script has established, but it creates a disturbing theological problem, as well.
The Elm Street series clearly exists in a world in which the presence of a higher power is felt. Crucifixes and holy water have some effect against Freddy, and his mother seems able to return from the grave only because she is a holy nun (her holiness is played up with brilliant white color and flocks of doves around her). Amanda Krueger’s presence in the third film offered a sense of comfort, as well as a belief that a higher power was involved and would ultimately make things right. It was one thing to forget about Amanda in the fourth film, but another to render her helpless even after attaining her full power in the fifth one. The series acknowledges the presence of a God and then leaves him suspiciously absent, his agent impotent, as Krueger continues to prey. It’s highly disturbing that the god who appears to exist in this film is less powerful than an undead serial killer, or at least doesn’t seem particularly concerned with stopping him.
Add to this the final means of stopping Freddy (if you can call it final), in which Alice’s unborn son tells Freddy that “school’s out” and then uses his powers against him, and you have some major problematic turns and credibility gaps in the story. Oh, and just how the heck did Freddy manage to come back from the dead at the beginning of the film? No, that explanation didn’t make any sense.
Finally, this film lacks the feel-good sense of self-empowerment that parts one, three, and four succeeded in evoking so well. Freddy is finally defeated (though quickly returns) due to the intervention of Amanda Krueger and Alice’s unborn son. Alice and our other central characters do nothing to stop him on their own, instead relying on greater powers that ultimately fail. Our main characters are helpless, their saviors are helpless, and (let’s not forget) God is helpless. The unspoken moral of this story isn’t just depressing. It’s downright stupid.
In general, the fifth installment of the Elm Street saga feels labored, generic, and half-thought out, but it does offer an interesting concept at the core of its plot. The Dream Child is definitely not one of the better Elm Street films, but it’s not unwatchable either.
Freddy’s Dead: The Final Nightmare (1991) C-
Presumably aware of the waning quality in the Elm Street stories, the creative team behind the series took some time off to regroup and then produce The Final Nightmare two years later (the longest gap between Elm Street films at this time). This final attempt to resurrect Freddy in the regular continuity seems to have made careful consideration of fan input, attempting to borrow shamelessly from the franchise’s most popular installments. It steals elements from Dream Warriors (a band of reject kids from a psychiatric ward) and the original Elm Street film (strong female protagonist, same general method of killing Freddy at the end). It’s even interesting to note that, when Freddy recaps the ways in which people have tried to kill him thus far, he only mentions the methods of elimination used in Dream Warriors and the original film. Freddy’s Dead attempts to say “let’s just forget the less popular Elm Street installments,” yet ends up becoming one of those less popular Elm Street installments faster than you can say “Welcome to prime time, bitch.”
There’s a lot wrong with this film, beginning at the start of the film, when an unintentionally corny introduction informs us that ten years have passed, Freddy has killed every teen in Springwood, and that the grownups are suffering from some form of mass delusion as a result. Can I get a big “HUH?” on that last part? How does an entire town experience mass delusion? Furthermore, how has Freddy managed to remain a myth that no one outside of Springwood has heard about after killing every single teen in a small suburban town?
The story becomes more problematic as we encounter our emotionally distant main character (whoever thought it’d be a good idea to feature a stuffy adult as the protagonist in a teen horror flick?) and a supporting cast that fails miserably in attempting to replicate the charm of the Dream Warriors. Even worse, self-indulgent, star-studded cameos are made by Tom and Roseanne Arnold and Alice Cooper, all of which detract further from any seriousness or credibility we might have otherwise lent to this film, making it feel more like an episode of Hollywood Squares than a half-decent horror story. Scenes in the deluded town of Springwood are similarly absurd to the point that I begin smacking my head, hoping to dull my brain enough to make the film seem intelligent.
Brecken Meyer’s death scene is the moment in which the film sheds any remaining dignity that it might have previously possessed. What begins as a drug-inspired death scenerio (this makes sense considering that he’s the pothead of the group), randomly transitions into a Freddy version of Super Mario Brothers (well, I guess we saw the kid playing a video game once in the film…), in which the victim bounces and spins around as if in a reject dollar-bin Nintendo adventure. The effects, direction, dialogue, and general concept of this scene are all out embarrassing, forcing you to make the “L” sign at your television screen for five whole minutes in which you should have been feeling scared. In fact, this leads me to another major problem in Freddy’s Dead. With the possible exception of a scene featuring a creepy looking hearing aid with legs, there isn’t a single scary moment in this film. The film doesn’t accelerate your heartbeat even once.
The plot of this film is its final awful ingredient, relying upon conveniences such as the main character working in a psychiatric clinic with a doctor that just happens to be making breakthrough discoveries in dream therapy. It also contains mile-wide plot holes, like Freddy suddenly having the ability (and desire) to erase his victims from existence (but then how do their friends remember them?). Lots and lots of other, smaller questions arise, such as why John was carrying a specific newspaper article in his pocket (which ends up becoming a large clue to solving the film’s mystery). We’re also left wondering why John doesn’t seem to have any parents/family that recognize him when he returns to Springwood. After all, he just ran away from there. The Elm Street films have always forced us to ask ourselves how long we could stay awake without closing our eyes, but Freddy’s Dead brings immediacy to that question, literally putting us to sleep with it’s hole-filled plot (actually, more of a plot-filled hole).
There are some saving graces to this film, and they’re barely enough to make it worth watching. The film makes a decent attempt to reveal more of Fred Krueger’s origin, but leaves us with a few questions as well (how could Krueger have killed the neighbors’ children in response to their taking his daughter away if they took his daughter away because he was killing their children?). In addition, John Doe, our amnesiac red-herring at the start of the film (but really, were any of us fooled?) is possibly the most likable protagonist in the Elm Street series, successfully balancing dark desperation with strong leadership and a quirky, stress-relieving style of humor. It’s disappointing to see him replaced, mid-film, with a far less likable main character.
Ultimately, this film delivers exactly what it promises: the death of Freddy Krueger (with little else to justify its feature-length running time). The death sequence is unnecessarily filmed in 3D (corny to the max), and marks the abrupt end of the film (no conclusion, because undeveloped characters have nothing to conclude), but at least the method of death makes sense. Freddy’s dead, and so is any remaining integrity in the original continuity.
The “A Nightmare on Elm Street” series has earned a lasting presence in our cultural memory, balancing our worst fears of vulnerability (we all need to let down our guard in order to sleep) with an almost comfortingly jovial murderer. While Fred Krueger is a being of absolute malevolence in the first film, he gradually becomes the charismatic core of the series, placing his emphasis on flamboyance rather than the act of killing, itself. Strange as it seems, the Nightmare series becomes a very safe kind of horror story, in which the killer doesn’t seem like such a bad guy. Sure, you have to worry about dying, but at least the rest of it (death scenarios in which an RPG fanatic gets to fight Freddy as a Wizard, or a martial arts fan faces off against Freddy in a Bruce Lee inspired death match) can almost be fun. Though the later films are seriously lacking in credibility, parts 1, 3, and 4 feature some excellent characters and stories.
A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) B+
The first and darkest of the Nightmare films is seen from the point of view of Nancy, a sweet, suburban teenage girl that represents our innocence and vulnerabilities, and grows to represent our capacity for inner strength and bravery, as well. Nancy (Heather Langenkamp) and Krueger (Robert Englund), bring amazing presence to their limited, two-dimensional characters and are supported by fantastic direction and special effects, but much of the supporting cast proves to be a drain on this otherwise stellar film. Johnny Depp debuts as Nancy’s boyfriend, and proves to be completely unreadable in the role. Nancy’s best friend is no better, but at least does a good job of chanting “Nancy” as a ghost. Nancy’s parents are intended to be unlikable, but succeed perhaps a little too well. In general, I find myself wishing most of the character-developing scenes will end quickly so that we can get back to the scenes that really make the film tick; the confrontations between an undead serial killer and his self-confident young prey.
Langenkamp and Englund play off of each other amazingly well, particularly in their final dramatic interaction, where Nancy retracts all the power that she has leant to her walking nightmare. This dramatic rivalry is echoed well by the script, which has the two characters subtly develop in parallel, both discovering the extent of their abilities at the same time. Indeed, it isn’t until the end of the film that Krueger seems to realize his complete ability to warp and manipulate the line between dream and reality, an ability he discovers only in response to Nancy achieving the apex of her inner strength.
While Freddy has been an unstoppable opponent throughout the film, it is only in the final scene that we see him evolve beyond the part of a serial killer that chases you in your dreams. He becomes a god of the nightmare world, controlling everything within it. It is during this time that we also get our first hint of Freddy’s creative, flamboyant flare, having the roof of a demonic convertible painted red and brown to resemble his trademark shirt. As the film closes, we’re terrified, but somewhat in awe of Krueger’s final achievement. We start to like the enemy we’ve tried so hard to thwart.
A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge (1985) D
Freddy’s Revenge attempts to take the symbolic meaning of fear to a new level, literally internalizing the predatory Krueger persona within the main character, a teenage boy named Jesse Walsh. In this film, Freddy uses Jesse’s body to commit murders, first when Jesse is sleeping and later even when he is awake. The psychological aspect of the premise is remarkable: A teen boy struggling with his inner demon who fantasizes about rape and murder. In many ways, Freddy has always represented a form of forbidden sexuality and violence, from the bathtub scene with Nancy in the first film to the overtly sexual needle fingers scene in part 3. Perhaps that’s why the fact that Freddy is using and preying upon a male main character for the first and only time leaves an uncomfortable homosexual undertone.
As a male, Jesse also seems less innocent and vulnerable (perhaps the very point of the film), making it harder to identify with him, even if his dark side makes him a more honest portrayal of humanity than Nancy was in the first film. Jesse is no more flat and unoriginal a character than most of the other Elm Street protagonists, but he doesn’t leave us much to like about him either. There’s nothing innately appealing about a teen with issues, even to a teen with issues.
It’s interesting how this film both does and doesn’t respect the one that came before it. On the one hand, Freddy has attached himself to the house from the first film (this is probably the only long-term contribution that part 2 makes to the larger series). On the other hand, Krueger’s primary objective in the first film was to kill the children of the Elm Street residents who killed him. Yet, in this film, he focuses on a teen who’s new to the town and completely outside of the Elm Street drama, all because he has moved into Nancy’s old house. The fact that Freddy is so interested in using Jesse to target other people (kids and gym teachers alike) might suggest that he has already succeeded in killing all of the remaining Elm Street kids (after all, this film does take place five years in the future). However, this interpretation is contradictory to the premise of part 3, in which all the remaining Elm Street kids make their stand together. More importantly, this change in Freddy’s objectives during part 2 goes mostly unexplained.
In terms of the story, this film is neither as exciting as the other films, nor as consistent in its keeping with the Freddy traditions. The conflict is very different (issues of self-control rather than issues of survival from a homicidal external force) and is far more discomforting than it is thrilling, as a result. The conclusion, in particular, in which Freddy is conquered by the power of love, is highly disappointing. No epic battle ensues, just a lot of hugging. This is a very psychological film, trying to borrow the earlier premise in order to tell a very different story, but it is not a Freddy film. It works in a sense, but does not deliver on its obligations to the franchise, in general.
Freddy’s Revenge is the most forgettable of the Elm Street installments. The remaining four films in the series (prior to New Nightmare, which stands on its own) all remain consistent with each other and with the first film, but conveniently choose to ignore this uncharacteristic installment, never again referring to any of the events that occur within it. As a result, you won’t miss anything by skipping the film entirely.
A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors (1987) B+
Dream Warriors is both a return to the traditions of the first Elm Street film and a major evolution of the tradition as well. The film works hard to align itself with the first one, bringing Nancy back as a central character, and creating another “Freddy’s just a bad dream” scenerio as friends start dropping left and right. Yet, at the same time, Dream Warriors establishes itself as a team film, with many central characters all working together to take down a common foe.
The difference is striking. Whereas the first film was largely terrifying because no one believed (or was strong enough to support) our main character, this film balances its terror with a feel-good sensation that comes from all of these misunderstood victims joining together to confront their antagonist. This is further aided by the fact that they are “crazy” together in a psychiatric ward, and that they have two adults who believe them, even while the rest of the adults in their world are cruel and dismissive. Finally, the most unique “feel-good” contribution to this film is the discovery that each of these surviving Elm Street teens has a super power that they can harness and control within their dreams. Suddenly, our heroes have a fighting chance against the all-powerful unknown.
On the flip side, this film marks the beginning of the more playful, humorous Freddy, who seems to delight in concocting elaborate dream scenarios tailored to the individual’s tastes, far more than he delights in the actual kill. At this point, the scenarios are still terrifying, but far more fantastic than the practically universal fear of a maniac with claws running after you. Freddy’s face is more visible and well lit in this film, and he has far more dialogue, with a less gritty voice and a newfound, horribly corny sense of humor. Freddy is still bad, but his cloak of dark mystery is shed, and his particular brand of fear has become more distanced and flamboyant. This time, it’s hard not to find him endearing while he slays our protagonists, one by one.
Elm Street 3 establishes a thrilling, adventurous center for the series that each successive film tries its best to replicate. Here, the Nightmare Series moves out of the pure horror genre and into something far more escapist and fun. There’s still a lot of genuine fear in this film, but there’s a strong sense of hope, camaraderie, and fantastic empowerment as well. We might respect the first film for teaching us that there is fantastic courage within us all, but we like Dream Warriors for teaching us that we can fly if we dream hard enough.
A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master (1988) B
Elm Street 4 is the first film in the series that generally smells like a sequel. Its events continue directly from those of the third film, with our heroes reunified just long enough to die. Our complete shock and outrage at watching these cherished characters get bumped off so easily is soon replaced with a new fear: Freddy has finished off the Elm Street children and found a (very clever) way to move on to a fresh batch of teen victims.
As a sequel to Dream Warriors, The Dream Master can only be seen as a disappointment. Two of the three major characters that return (Kristin and Joey) do not resemble the characters we cared for in the previous film. A single year of safe living has irrevocably changed them into boring, normal, and somewhat unlikable teens. After all, it was their haunted, vulnerable quality that drew us in and made us care about these otherwise personality-dead protagonists. Of course, that doesn’t make us happy about the fact that Freddy kills them so quickly. It’s hard to look at the band of teens that replaces them and not measure them against our cherished Dream Warriors.
Yet, at the same time, this new team offers their own particular brand of charm. They are tight knit, diverse, and each possessing of at least one two-dimensional trademark that sets each apart from the other. Most likeable of the bunch is Kristin’s boyfriend, Rick, who uses his own particular brand of boyish charm to counteract the gravity of their morbid predicament.
Ultimately, and not altogether surprisingly, the spotlight of this film moves from Kristin (a central character in Dream Warriors) to Alice, Kristin’s soft-spoken friend. Alice is a highly compelling protagonist, if for no other reason than the fact that she lacks self-confidence. We, as an audience, realize that she will need to find that sense of self-confidence and empowerment in order to defeat Freddy. Whereas Dream Warriors showed a group of friends banding together to defeat their enemy, The Dream Master makes the interesting choice of having a single timid figure learn to draw her strength and powers from the love and memory of her (dead) friends. In the process, she defeats Freddy and finds herself.
Though Alice is no more complex than any of the other Elm Street kids (in any of the films), her particular predicament gives us no choice but to take an active interest in her persona. Alice’s development gives us a sense of reward and triumph in the face of a semi-dark antagonist. As Alice gains the confidence to confront Freddy one-on-one, it becomes tempting to draw parallels with Alice’s home life, in which she lacks the courage to stand up to her alcoholic father. It’s no surprise that daddy is off the booze and attending AA meetings in the next film, following Alice’s victory in this one.
The only truly regrettable aspect of The Dream Master is its method of “off-ing” Freddy. Dream Warriors gave us a solution that truly seemed convincing and permanent. It’s troubling enough that Freddy finds no difficulty in returning to his favorite hobby after that, but even more disturbing that we’re supposed to exchange it with the hack solution that Alice discovers at the end of this film.
Elm Street 4 is an all around good film, with a higher caliber of acting and production value than any of the films before it. In many ways, it is incapable of measuring up to Dream Warriors as a sequel, but in other ways, it finds a strength and success that are all its own.
A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child (1989) D
In many ways, The Dream Child seeks only to repeat the formula that worked well enough for the previous film. We begin with two survivors from the previous film, one of which dies early on, leaving the other survivor (Alice) to try to convince her newfound group of tight-knit friends that Freddy exists and is killing again. Naturally, no one believes her until enough friends start dropping dead. The general concept works, except that these friends lack the personalities and group dynamic of the friends in the previous film. They are all introduced in a gratuitous “meet the new friends” scene, in which each personality and individual conflict is introduced systematically. Friend A has an overbearing mother that pushes her daughter to become a beauty queen (watching over her shoulders to the extent that she loses all believability as a real character). Friend B is the clown who loves comic books. Friend C likes to swim and doesn’t believe in superstition. All in all, these characters feel strained, lacking even the rich one dimension that the previous film lent to its supporting characters. Only the comic book fanatic expresses any personality at all when he finds himself unable to handle the death of his romantic interest. It’s nice to see this contrast when compared to the numerous other Elm Street teens that stopped to cry when a friend died and then moved on as if nothing had happened.
The general plot of this film is quite interesting, even when its execution feels labored and repetitive. Freddy’s new method of interacting with the real world is clever and not immediately obvious to the audience. Unfortunately, it depends upon our innocent Alice from the last film becoming pregnant after having careless, unprotected sex with her boyfriend (which we’re forced to watch in the opening credits). It’s a bit of a leap for the audience, which is still adjusting to the fact that Alice no longer whispers when she talks and has stopped wearing ankle-length skirts. Alice’s pregnancy is a genuine effort by the filmmaker to send a responsible, pro-life message to the teens of the audience, but the message feels too conscious and labored. It’s a nice try, but perhaps too serious of a point to be making in a brain-candy slasher flick.
There are several aspects of the plot in this film that are bothersome. First of all, a major point is made early on that the comic book lover can’t stand the sight of blood. One would think this is an obvious foreshadow of things to come, yet his issues with blood never return. In fact, he ends up receiving the most bloodless death of any of Freddy’s victims (at least until after he’s dead). A second plot point that’s introduced and then forgotten emerges part way through the film, when Alice's dead boyfriend’s parents want to take her baby from her, threatening legal action if necessary. The absurdity of such a threat aside (everyone knows no court in hell would back their claim), this conflict is abandoned immediately after it’s introduced. Alice laments that she’ll have to devote a significant part of her energy to this new problem, yet we never hear of it again.
A third, larger problem comes with the intervention of Freddy’s mother, a dead nun that promises to be the ultimate means of stopping Krueger once and for all. Alice spends a significant part of the film seeking her out, and Freddy seems terrified that she will return to stop him. Yet, when Amanda Krueger finally intervenes in the end, she is clearly no match for Freddy, seeming even more terrified and helpless to stop him than Alice ever was. Not only does this play against the expectations that the script has established, but it creates a disturbing theological problem, as well.
The Elm Street series clearly exists in a world in which the presence of a higher power is felt. Crucifixes and holy water have some effect against Freddy, and his mother seems able to return from the grave only because she is a holy nun (her holiness is played up with brilliant white color and flocks of doves around her). Amanda Krueger’s presence in the third film offered a sense of comfort, as well as a belief that a higher power was involved and would ultimately make things right. It was one thing to forget about Amanda in the fourth film, but another to render her helpless even after attaining her full power in the fifth one. The series acknowledges the presence of a God and then leaves him suspiciously absent, his agent impotent, as Krueger continues to prey. It’s highly disturbing that the god who appears to exist in this film is less powerful than an undead serial killer, or at least doesn’t seem particularly concerned with stopping him.
Add to this the final means of stopping Freddy (if you can call it final), in which Alice’s unborn son tells Freddy that “school’s out” and then uses his powers against him, and you have some major problematic turns and credibility gaps in the story. Oh, and just how the heck did Freddy manage to come back from the dead at the beginning of the film? No, that explanation didn’t make any sense.
Finally, this film lacks the feel-good sense of self-empowerment that parts one, three, and four succeeded in evoking so well. Freddy is finally defeated (though quickly returns) due to the intervention of Amanda Krueger and Alice’s unborn son. Alice and our other central characters do nothing to stop him on their own, instead relying on greater powers that ultimately fail. Our main characters are helpless, their saviors are helpless, and (let’s not forget) God is helpless. The unspoken moral of this story isn’t just depressing. It’s downright stupid.
In general, the fifth installment of the Elm Street saga feels labored, generic, and half-thought out, but it does offer an interesting concept at the core of its plot. The Dream Child is definitely not one of the better Elm Street films, but it’s not unwatchable either.
Freddy’s Dead: The Final Nightmare (1991) C-
Presumably aware of the waning quality in the Elm Street stories, the creative team behind the series took some time off to regroup and then produce The Final Nightmare two years later (the longest gap between Elm Street films at this time). This final attempt to resurrect Freddy in the regular continuity seems to have made careful consideration of fan input, attempting to borrow shamelessly from the franchise’s most popular installments. It steals elements from Dream Warriors (a band of reject kids from a psychiatric ward) and the original Elm Street film (strong female protagonist, same general method of killing Freddy at the end). It’s even interesting to note that, when Freddy recaps the ways in which people have tried to kill him thus far, he only mentions the methods of elimination used in Dream Warriors and the original film. Freddy’s Dead attempts to say “let’s just forget the less popular Elm Street installments,” yet ends up becoming one of those less popular Elm Street installments faster than you can say “Welcome to prime time, bitch.”
There’s a lot wrong with this film, beginning at the start of the film, when an unintentionally corny introduction informs us that ten years have passed, Freddy has killed every teen in Springwood, and that the grownups are suffering from some form of mass delusion as a result. Can I get a big “HUH?” on that last part? How does an entire town experience mass delusion? Furthermore, how has Freddy managed to remain a myth that no one outside of Springwood has heard about after killing every single teen in a small suburban town?
The story becomes more problematic as we encounter our emotionally distant main character (whoever thought it’d be a good idea to feature a stuffy adult as the protagonist in a teen horror flick?) and a supporting cast that fails miserably in attempting to replicate the charm of the Dream Warriors. Even worse, self-indulgent, star-studded cameos are made by Tom and Roseanne Arnold and Alice Cooper, all of which detract further from any seriousness or credibility we might have otherwise lent to this film, making it feel more like an episode of Hollywood Squares than a half-decent horror story. Scenes in the deluded town of Springwood are similarly absurd to the point that I begin smacking my head, hoping to dull my brain enough to make the film seem intelligent.
Brecken Meyer’s death scene is the moment in which the film sheds any remaining dignity that it might have previously possessed. What begins as a drug-inspired death scenerio (this makes sense considering that he’s the pothead of the group), randomly transitions into a Freddy version of Super Mario Brothers (well, I guess we saw the kid playing a video game once in the film…), in which the victim bounces and spins around as if in a reject dollar-bin Nintendo adventure. The effects, direction, dialogue, and general concept of this scene are all out embarrassing, forcing you to make the “L” sign at your television screen for five whole minutes in which you should have been feeling scared. In fact, this leads me to another major problem in Freddy’s Dead. With the possible exception of a scene featuring a creepy looking hearing aid with legs, there isn’t a single scary moment in this film. The film doesn’t accelerate your heartbeat even once.
The plot of this film is its final awful ingredient, relying upon conveniences such as the main character working in a psychiatric clinic with a doctor that just happens to be making breakthrough discoveries in dream therapy. It also contains mile-wide plot holes, like Freddy suddenly having the ability (and desire) to erase his victims from existence (but then how do their friends remember them?). Lots and lots of other, smaller questions arise, such as why John was carrying a specific newspaper article in his pocket (which ends up becoming a large clue to solving the film’s mystery). We’re also left wondering why John doesn’t seem to have any parents/family that recognize him when he returns to Springwood. After all, he just ran away from there. The Elm Street films have always forced us to ask ourselves how long we could stay awake without closing our eyes, but Freddy’s Dead brings immediacy to that question, literally putting us to sleep with it’s hole-filled plot (actually, more of a plot-filled hole).
There are some saving graces to this film, and they’re barely enough to make it worth watching. The film makes a decent attempt to reveal more of Fred Krueger’s origin, but leaves us with a few questions as well (how could Krueger have killed the neighbors’ children in response to their taking his daughter away if they took his daughter away because he was killing their children?). In addition, John Doe, our amnesiac red-herring at the start of the film (but really, were any of us fooled?) is possibly the most likable protagonist in the Elm Street series, successfully balancing dark desperation with strong leadership and a quirky, stress-relieving style of humor. It’s disappointing to see him replaced, mid-film, with a far less likable main character.
Ultimately, this film delivers exactly what it promises: the death of Freddy Krueger (with little else to justify its feature-length running time). The death sequence is unnecessarily filmed in 3D (corny to the max), and marks the abrupt end of the film (no conclusion, because undeveloped characters have nothing to conclude), but at least the method of death makes sense. Freddy’s dead, and so is any remaining integrity in the original continuity.