If you’ve read my ongoing analyses of horror remakes on Bloody Disgusting over the years, you know that, as much as possible, I try to stay positive. Sometimes, that’s just not possible.
Once in a blue moon, a title comes along so unforgivable that it makes you yearn for the repetition of Cabin Fever (2016) or the incompetence of The Fog (2005). Even less frequently, an entire trilogy comes along that proves there is no higher power, for any merciful deity would not allow such a catastrophic cinematic crime.
Unfortunately, in 2024, The Strangers: Chapter 1 kickstarted a three-film series that, as I wrote in one of my reviews for Inverse, is so bad that “Bryan Bertino should be able to sue for damages to The Strangers‘ reputation.”
Now, Chapter 1 is the only remake. Chapter 2 and Chapter 3 are expansions of a rebooted Strangerverse. BUT, it’s these sequels that make the remake’s existence even worse. In a vacuum, Chapter 1 is a lifeless, middling, yet moderately harmless remake that fails to recapture even a thimbleful of Bertino’s magic. Infuriation sets in about halfway through Chapter 2, and when it does, hoo doggy.
It’s bad enough that I’m breaking my typical format and leaving all films open to examination, if for, at least, well-deserved catharsis.
The Approach
In the words of producer Courtney Solomon, the team “felt there was a bigger story to be told” past The Strangers. One that doesn’t acknowledge Johannes Roberts‘ superior continuation, The Strangers: Prey at Night. Writers Alan R. Cohen and Alan Freedland penned a screenplay that director Renny Harlin dubbed “incredibly well written,” with an “endless tapestry of haunting visuals.” The first movie would be a “soft” remake, retelling Bertino’s original story in a new setting, preceding two brand-new films that’d answer all the questions Bertino left open-ended (FOR A GOSHDARN REASON).
In other words, a trilogy that’d shatter the harrowing ambiguity and terrifying shapelessness of Bertino’s astoundingly bleak home invasion cult-classic in favor of answers that strip away any sense of thrills, suspense, or intrigue.
Hot commodity Madelaine Petsch stars as Maya, the heroine of all three titles. Froy Gutierrez is her longtime boyfriend, Ryan, who does not survive Chapter 1. The first-course remake is vaguely shot-for-shot, adding nothing to a conversation that Bertino’s having with himself. From there, the continuations indulge the town of Venus, Oregon, where three masked killers—Scarecrow, Dollface, and Pin-Up Girl—slay outsiders who dare cross map-drawn borders. We come to learn that alcoholic Gregory (Gabriel Basso) and Sheriff Rotter (Richard Brake) are hiding something sinister in Venus, as “The Strangers” hunt Maya, or anyone coming to her aid.
It’s a futile and stupid gesture from creators who misunderstand everything that makes Bertino’s 2000s now-beloved nightmare stand out. “Because you were home,” what a knockout punch of dialogue. Cohen and Freedland are 20,000 leagues out of their depth, foolishly building atop suspenseful and gut-rotting aspects that fester well after the credits roll because of their unknowns. The Strangers works because Bertino leans into the barbaric randomness of serial killers, playing by the vilest rules of chance. The trilogy’s screenplay is, at its best, a redundant misuse of existing material—but at its worst, it’s a full-chested admittance that neither writer comprehends the original’s masterclass of tension, nor how the genre best serves its audiences.
Does It Work?
A Bluesky prompt spread recently, asking, “What’s the most frustrated you’ve ever been leaving a movie theater?” My answer, with admitted recency bias, was The Strangers: Chapter 3.
The remake itself is a bummer, whimpering through motions that Bertino executed with Jack the Ripper’s precision. The following movies, these highly-touted origins that were supposed to enhance The Strangers by characterizing the ghouls committing such violent atrocities, are infinitely worse. Cohen and Freedland’s egos get the better of them as they try to outwrite Bertino, basically suggesting he left oodles of material on the table, but what’s shown is an embarrassment. Bertino’s The Strangers is a petrifying display of malevolence that strikes fear even upon rewatches, where Harlin’s chapters are a nosedive of dull generics that end with a shrug, like everyone involved knows how badly they’ve whiffed minutes into Chapter 3.
The biggest blunder here is defining every aspect of The Strangers’ lore. It’s no longer “Because you were home,” citing the unpredictability, but “Because you’re here,” since you’ve entered their territory. The siren’s call of “Is Tamara home?” A kiss of death in verbal form gets an absurd backstory that renders its meaning quite hilarious. As Cohen and Freedland try to convince us there’s more to The Strangers that we’re missing, the more we disagree. Harlin’s direction doesn’t help, nor does the cast’s involvement. There’s at least some spunk in Chapter 2, where Petsch is fighting to keep our attention, but Chapter 3? Perhaps the back-to-back-to-back shooting scheduling in Bratislava had everyone wishing for their return flights home during the final stretch, or at least that’s the energy Chapter 3 boasts throughout.
It’s baffling because, upon announcement, Chapter 1 was acknowledged as a hurdle to overcome before getting to the main event. Instead, Chapter 2 and Chapter 3 end up dragging an already forgettable Chapter 1 to a deeper grave. It’s a shame, because there are already so many remake haters out there who scoff every time another’s greenlit—and Harlin’s travesty of a trifecta refills their ammunition. Every single fear about how The Strangers 2.0 could bomb is validated by what will go down as one of the worst horror trilogies in the genre’s storied history of stinkers.
The Result
Chapter 1 is like CM Punk in an MMA octagon: outmatched, outshined, and ill-advised. Chapter 2 gets far worse, believing that The Strangers was missing such brilliant concepts as a wild boar attack scene, or backstories for characters whose entire appeal is that they’re nameless ghouls. Then there’s Chapter 3, a clincher so astonishingly lethargic and uneventful, it made me want to apologize for being so harsh to Halloween Ends. There’s a cockiness to the whole endeavor that never sits right, because a sauceless remake is disrespectful enough. But to insinuate that The Strangers is but the kernel of something greater that Bertino never saw … and then heap that slop onto a silver platter like we can’t smell its putrid stench? The audacity, frankly.
It’s disappointing because Harlin’s no stranger (sue me) to schlock entertainment. Deep Blue Sea, Cliffhanger, Die Hard 2, and A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master all earned their audiences, but there isn’t a lick of that filmmaker anywhere. Where Bertino wrestles tone, shadowy visuals, and askew framing into submission, Harlin’s barely able to raise an errant hair with the most obvious of jump scares. These movies are a mess of sloppy continuity and bottom-feeding plot advancement, wasting Petsch’s talents on a Final Girl who is practically begging not to escape danger. Cohen and Freedland shouldn’t be allowed within 100 feet of another horror screenplay after this, given their inability to navigate even the most unchallenging of hunt-and-stalk blueprints.
Due to everything mentioned, only one phrase bounces around my noggin: cash grab. I can’t say that was the project’s initial strategy—stretch The Strangers nostalgia into a tree-movie payday—but that’s how this feels. Tying an original “Cursed Town” concept to The Strangers is a sin that’s never forgiven, because, maybe separately, that works. Perhaps, given a solely focused remake of The Strangers, Harlin would succeed. But as one package, starting with a redo that transitions into a dead-on-arrival rebranding, the results are catastrophic. Like, I can’t hear “The Strangers” and detach Harlin’s films from Bertino’s and Roberts’ legitimate bangers. The damage is done; a legacy tainted.
The Lesson
I’ve typed it before, and I’m sure this won’t be the last time. If you come for the crown, you’d best come correct. That does not happen in The Strangers: Chapter 1, The Strangers: Chapter 2, or The Strangers: Chapter 3. No one involved convinces me they’re involved for the right reasons, whether that’s to rise to the challenge of equalling Bertino’s accomplishments or to do justice to his intellectual property through original add-ons. Instead, Harlin, Cohen, and Freedland try to hijack The Strangers for themselves, but run the franchise straight into the ground. They’re impostors, without an ounce of justification for their actions, given such abysmal execution.
So what did we learn?
- Lionsgate’s The Strangers trilogy is so bad that it sets back pro-remake conversations an entire decade.
- The concept of using a remake to launch a rebooted trilogy comes with intrigue, but you’d better be airtight with your execution.
- Films with such distinct vibes, like The Strangers, are the hardest to remake and adapt.
- Horror audiences will sniff laziness a mile away—pay the price at your own risk.
Congratulations to everyone involved for cramming these flicks into a single production timeline, because there’s no way they’d get away with all three had there been a filming gap between Chapter 2 and Chapter 3. Apparently, some say that if you watch all three together in Lionsgate’s marathon cut, there are redeeming qualities—but you’ll never pay me enough to find out. Three bad movies cut into a single feature sounds like one really long bad movie, to me. You’d have to rig me up A Clockwork Orange style—strapped down, eyelids clamped open—for me to watch.
If there’s any relief, it’s that this horrible period of my life is now over, with no Chapter 4 threatening me a few months from now.
Finally, there is peace.