Editorials
The Early Aughts ‘Prom Night’ Remake Skewers The Original Slasher Formula For The Worse
Are 2000s horror remakes as bad as their Rotten Tomatoes scores suggest? Dark Castle Entertainment’s unfairly maligned Thir13en Ghosts sits at a 9%; Platinum Dunes’ fantastic Friday the 13th reboot is drowning under the puke-green threshold at 25%. Tomatometer critics of the aughts held a grudge against horror in general, especially horror remakes.
It’s a phenomenon I don’t shy away from discussing here in the column, but let’s be honest, some releases of the period deserved their beatdowns.
Nelson McCormick’s Prom Night (2008) is the kind of no-good horror remake that fuels biases against the practice. A 9% critics’ score is generous, based on who you ask (me). Maybe you’re thinking, it can’t possibly be worse than some of the remake swill that I’ve already analyzed here on Bloody Disgusting … right? Don’t get me wrong, it’s no April Fool’s Day. But it’s also an insult to Paul Lynch’s Canuxploitation original from 1980, in that it doesn’t even deign to be a slasher.
Title recognition gets fans through the door, but disappointment sets in early once audiences realize there’s no mystery to solve or backbone to brag about.
The Approach
Schlock peddler J. S. Cardone scripts an updated Prom Night that doesn’t care to indulge much of what makes William Gray’s initial blueprint, and therefore Paul Lynch’s source, a cult classic. It’s silly in a braindead Nu-Horror way, communicating all the wrong lessons learned from past horror creators. Cardone ditches whodunit suspense in the opener, and doubles down only a few scenes later. You know, from the beginning, who the killer is. Bodies start mounting WAY quicker (not around the hour-plus mark), but more action somehow produces a lethargic drag of a stalker picture.
Brittany Snow stars as Donna Keppel, an Oregonian teen who watches her mother get murdered in front of her eyes. The killer, teacher Richard Fenton (Johnathon Schaech), professes his hot-for-student love for Donna and swears they’ll never be separated. Fast-forward three years, and Donna is gearing up for every budding young adult’s dream: senior prom. Kids hoist kegs through multi-story windows; everyone arrives at a swanky hotel for a red carpet entrance. Donna, her nice-guy boyfriend Bobby (Scott Porter), besties Claire (Jessica Stroup) and Lisa (Dana Davis), football star Ronnie (Collins Pennie), and Claire’s drunk gnat of a boyfriend, Michael (Kelly Blatz), are ready to kiss this chapter of their lives goodbye.
But, wait for it, they’re not alone.
Guess who shows up. Richard! Before anyone can even obnoxiously shout-dance to “Sweet Caroline,” there’s a shot of a now clean-shaven Richard on the premises. For some reason, Cardone and McCormick think there’s value in having their villain be in plain sight for the entire movie. Detective Winn (Idris Elba) isn’t very good at protecting Donna, along with his partner, Detective Nash—a baby-faced James Ransone (RIP). It’s such an odd choice; a monumental risk that doesn’t pay off even for a second.
Does It Work?
It’s not just one decision that crashes Prom Night; blame is everywhere. However, the familiarization of Richard Fenton from square one cuts any slasher intrigue off at the knees. Goodbye, red herrings. Be gone, investigation tension. Richard waltzes to the check-in desk, Ronnie accidentally points the psycho to their floor, and he immediately snags a master key by killing a maid. There’s no struggle for Richard; he’s gifted his way back into Donna’s life. From here, it’s just a not-so-bloody waiting game as Donna’s friends venture one-by-one to the room for various reasons, and are killed by Richard in PG-13 approved stab attacks—big freakin’ yawn.
Frankly, McCormick approaches Prom Night (2008) more like a Fatal Attraction, evoking thrillers about obsession, danger, and lust. It’s a piss-poor slasher film because it doesn’t pay the subgenre any mind. Lynch has way more fun decapitating cafeteria bullies with mighty unibrows, keeping his glittery masked axe murderer in the shadows, where McCormick presumes there’s more to fear when staring down Schaech’s cold, fixated eyes. He’s wrong, unfortunately, because in revealing Richard, all expectations are now evident. Richard will knife innocents to death, Richard will encounter Donna, and either one of them will die—but let’s be honest, in a PG-13 theatrical Screen Gems package? We’re just waiting for Donna to exorcise her demon (the dead way).
It begs the age-old remake question—what value does your remake bring to the original’s concept? There’s nothing reminiscent of Gray’s oddball of a revenge massacre that, itself, calls back to dynamite Canadian slashers like My Bloody Valentine and Black Christmas. The concept of setting your horror tale during prom has been retread a billion times, to the point where there’s no uniqueness to revamping Prom Night if you’re not going to abide by its premise. The nostalgia backfires monumentally, inviting plot comparisons that would never be in the film’s favor.
The Result
Prom Night (2008), frankly, stinks. We’re held hostage inside a generic Hollywoodized school dance, complete with a corny DJ on a balcony stage, lifeless outlines of hallway stereotypes (sup, Kellan Lutz), and the gooniest affinity for prom night’s milestone afterglow. Cardone’s screenplay is incorrigibly sappy: if he can’t write any scares into the film, he’ll at least attempt lazy emotional pops before characters meet Richard’s blade. Bobby’s constant reassurances that he and Donna will survive their long-distance college relationship, Ronnie pulling an engagement ring from his pocket, or Lisa’s insistence that everyone will stay friends. It’s all rigid stereotypes crammed into tuxedos and a parade of meaningless deaths.
There’s more personality in Jamie Lee Curtis’ epic Saturday Night Fever-y dance number for 1980’s Prom Night than there is in the entirety of 2008’s Prom Night. Scenes play out like stock footage of “fun party dance floor” or “pretty teens prom night,” running through the same droll mechanics as Detective Winn scampers around, trying not to alarm anyone about Richard’s likely presence at the hotel. Cue Donna’s Uncle Jack (Linden Ashby) tearily reasoning with Aunt Karen (Jessalyn Gilsig) about why he didn’t pull his niece from the probably doomed event, because he didn’t want to ruin her therapeutic progress (Chun-Li and Mulan actress Ming-Na Wen plays Donna’s doc for a hot second).
Reason after reason keeps Donna in peril purely for the movie’s entertainment, which there is none to speak of—and then it keeps going. This movie is like being dragged across concrete at 2 miles an hour, and being told, in excruciating detail, about every bump and point you’re about to encounter because no one here believes in anticipation.
I can’t comprehend how someone could watch Prom Night (1980) and be inspired to regurgitate something so uninspiringly vanilla. You watch a movie with disco mania, car explosions, and scintillation … and the best you can do is a jealous serial killer deleting cute pics of Donna and the creatively named “Bobby Jones” on a digital camera? Prom Night (2008) doesn’t deserve its Bloc Party needle drop. Nor Brittany Snow, stuck with dialogue that makes me want to stab my eardrums with a shimmery tiara. It probably wouldn’t even take a half-assed argument to convince me Prom Night (2008) is AI-generated, it’s so tropey and algorithmic. Are we sure this isn’t a VH1 made-for-television horror movie? (I can’t even namecheck MTV since My Super Psycho Sweet 16 has more moxie and terror.)
The Lesson
The in-your-face lesson? Make a good damn movie. The deeper lesson, in terms of remake potential? Display even the most basic understanding of what makes the original you’re referencing tick. We just had this conversation in my The Strangers examination last month. McCormick and Cardone can’t luck themselves into even the slightest tingle of fear. I’m at a loss—My Bloody Valentine 3D was able to drop a bombshell reveal despite being based on a film that, itself, contains a nasty and memorable twist. You’ve got no excuse, Prom Night—you didn’t even try.
So what did we learn?
- Turns out slashers based on human killers aren’t all that fun when the bad guy is unmasked in the first scene.
- Not all 2000s horror remakes are underappreciated or unfairly criticized.
- Remakes by name invite unavoidable comparisons you’d better be ready to answer for.
- The Canuxploitation to PG-13 Americanized remake pipeline ain’t that impressive.
Woof! Maybe I’m just the jaded kid from a small suburban town who fled and never looked back, but Prom Night is some of the hokiest, most cringe-worthy prom-o-ganda I’ve endured in quite some time. It’s got a “Hello, fellow kids!” energy, like a teen flick written by a, well, senior citizen.
Congratulations to those who might feel the warm nostalgia of high school sweethearts beating the odds, or friend groups never losing touch, but for the rest of us? It’s not even the butter-knife-edge horror that possesses; it’s the diet Hallmark vibes that had me wincing the hardest.
Editorials
Tales from ‘Tales from the Crypt’: Exhuming The Final Season’s “A Slight Case of Murder” Episode
All good things must come to an end—yes, even Tales from the Crypt (1989–1996). That iconic horror show finally concluded after airing ninety-three episodes. As we all know, traditional anthologies aren’t too common to see on TV anymore, much less be that long, so this kind of endurance is even more impressive.
Now, I would be remiss to not bring up how very off that last season felt, in comparison to past ones. If not for the Crypt Keeper’s bookends, it was like a different show at that point. Essentially, it was when you assessed how much had changed. Producer Gilbert Adler was responsible for those divisive renovations; his moving production to England was an attempt to give Crypt “a shot in the arm”. What he instead did was create obstacles for both himself and the series. Some could be overcome, whereas others were less yielding.
Fans decry Season Seven, but in all fairness, Season Six wasn’t all roses, either. And like Six, Seven does have a few bright spots. The move to merry England couldn’t completely undo what we love about the series. Yes, there was a decline in gore; the dial had especially been turned down on those big, bloody conclusions we all love. It must be said, though, that the final season was hardly the only one to be gruesome-lite. Plenty of past episodes also did without copious amounts of the red stuff.
At the time, traveling abroad may not have been seen as a bad thing. The new season was off to a strong start, based on favorable reactions to the premiere. The Natasha Richardson-starring opener, “Fatal Caper” (Bob Hoskins, Colman deKay, A. L. Katz, Gilbert Adler), is as ridiculous as it is clever. However, it would soon become apparent that not everything to come in Season Seven was up to the same standards as that first episode. It was going to be a bumpy ride, to say the least.
Most will agree that the seventh season wasn’t a complete bust. The blood-soaked “Horror in the Night” (Russell Mulcahy, John Harrison) is atmospheric and trippy; there, a jewel thief (James Wilby) experiences a nightmarish evening while hiding out in a haunted hotel. Then there is what many consider to be the season’s standout, and perhaps even the last great episode of the series. In the gritty “Confession” (Peter Hewitt, Scott Nimerfro), a detective (Ciarán Hinds) suspects a screenwriter (Eddie Izzard) is behind a string of murders. Although it is a strange way to end things, “The Third Pig” (Bill Kopp, Pat Ventura) also has its admirers; this animated entry is a demented new spin on the classic fairytale “The Three Little Pigs“, as opposed to anything out of EC Comics‘ vault.
Another fine episode is “A Slight Case of Murder”, which I find a bit lighthearted for Tales from the Crypt. In spite of all the killing, of course. It also makes good use of the scenery change; an upside of the show’s relocation is the real estate. A Tudor-style home sits at the heart of this amusing episode, written and directed by Brian Helgeland (A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master, 976-EVIL). Cozy mystery lovers should be quite smitten with the story’s choice of venue.
A common complaint about Season Seven is its lack of star power. Gone were the days when anyone who was anyone in Hollywood stopped by and played a role. That said, it wasn’t as if the series was now just hiring nobodies off the street; the problem was that many American viewers weren’t as familiar with the new casts. “A Slight Case of Murder” was such a case, given how Francesca Annis, Elizabeth Spriggs, and Christopher Cazenove weren’t exactly household names in the States. Naturally, the English would have an easier time recognizing the leads of this and other Season Seven episodes.
“A Slight Case of Murder” is an example of a crabby author getting what’s coming to them. Generally speaking, the horror genre has never cared much for depictions of kind writers. And here, Annis plays that rather irritable novelist whose next bestseller is at risk of being published posthumously. After brilliantly insulting her neighbor, an aspiring author named Mrs. Trask (Spriggs), Sharon Bannister detects a prowler. She then takes no comfort knowing the intruder is just her ex (Cazenove). He’s not here to reminisce about old times.
The last page from “A Slight Case of Murder!”, as seen in EC Comics’ The Vault of Horror.
The episode, while amusing, feels like it belongs in another anthology. The one I’m thinking of, on account of the British actors and the story being centered around jealousy, is Tales of the Unexpected. That series, by the way, also eventually went overseas; some later episodes cast Americans and were set in the U.S. So, yes, “A Slight Case of Murder” isn’t a thing like classic Crypt, but it is awfully charming.
By now, no one should be shocked to learn that an episode of Tales from the Crypt is different from its basis. In fact, the “A Slight Case of Murder!” found in EC’s The Vault of Horror bears no resemblance to Helgeland’s adaptation. An old doctor returns to his hometown to solve a bunch of murders—the victims were all women. At each crime, there was no sign of a break-in, seeing as how the women’s doors and windows were locked from the inside. The sheriff says the only other way in, in one case, was a hot-air vent. He concludes no human could have fit through that, but the doctor suggests the culprit is “not an ordinary human”.
The doctor meets with the sheriff at an old house formerly known as the Bates Mansion. Yet before revealing the killer’s identity, the doctor tells a story about a local widow named Amelia Bates. After her newborn turned out to be—and I’m merely quoting writers Bill Gaines and Al Feldstein—a “misshapen monster”, Amelia asked the doctor to tell everyone her child was a stillborn. She kept that underdeveloped, slithering boy a secret from everyone; only the doctor knew.
Years later, that same child went on to murder a series of women. All of whom rejected his love. And who, pray tell, did that baby become? The town’s sheriff, that’s who! The last frame of the comic, one showing the sheriff’s hidden mechanical body, is so startling that it’s actually disappointing that Tales from the Crypt didn’t properly adapt this story. It would have fit in so well with the older seasons.
As they say in the biz, the show must go on—and Tales from the Crypt did just that, even when the quality had noticeably dropped. But like I always tell myself during the lesser episodes, any Crypt is still better than no Crypt.
Along with Seasons One through Six, Season Seven of Tales from the Crypt can be streamed on Shudder, starting on June 12.
A delightful shot from “A Slight Case of Murder” suggests Elizabeth Spriggs’ character, Mrs. Trask, is more devilish than she first seemed.
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