Reviews
[TV Review] The Killer in ‘Scream: Resurrection’ Makes a Mockery of Horror Fans Everywhere
Well, there you have it: the possible conclusion of the Scream franchise, which will be remembered as the television equivalent of a wet fart in the annals of horror. The lengthy delay between seasons (almost three years) should have been all we needed to know: this “Three-Night Event’ was VH1’s way of dumping a turd of a season and wiping their hands clean. But their hands are not clean. Not. One. Bit.
Two days ago, I wrote the following in my review of Scream: Resurrection‘s first two episodes:
“Scream: Resurrection benefits from not being boring. It’s bad, but at least it’s entertaining.”
My, what a difference four episodes can make. Each set of episodes was worse than the last, with the finale being a particularly egregious miscalculation of viewer expectations (Did you want Deion’s football scholarship drama to take up half of the finale’s runtime? Scream: Resurrection seems to think that you did.). I could spend this review picking apart the series scene by scene, but that would be a waste of my time and yours. This is a bad show and that’s all you need to know. However, it would be prudent to discuss the one aspect of the finale that likely won’t sit well with many horror fans (you know, the show’s target audience).
***SPOILERS for the finale of Scream: Resurrection***
As revealed in the sixth and final episode of Scream: Resurrection, the killers are revealed to be Deion’s (RJ Cyler) step-brother Jamal (Tyga) and Goth-girl horror expert (and Resurrection‘s Randy stand-in) Beth (Giorgia Whigham). Jamal was upset because his father married Deion’s mother (Mary J. Blige) and began to treat Deion like more of a son than Jamal. When he met Beth, who reveals herself to be a sociopath, she fostered his jealousy into a murderous rage and used him to start a killing spree because, well, she just likes killing people.
Yes, out of all of the Scream films to rip off, Scream: Resurrection chose to rip off Scream 3. Jamal’s motive is essentially the same as Roman’s (Scott Foley): He’s upset because his daddy loved his stepbrother more than he loved him. It’s certainly a (boring) choice, but Jamal isn’t the problem with Resurrection‘s finale. You see, while Beth being the killer seems clever (unless you count Scream 4‘s Charlie, Scream has never had the Randy-type character be the killer before), Beth’s motive monologue is problematic to say the least. Her explanation is as follows:
“I was born bad. Unlike you and your little “Deadfast” besties, I don’t lie to myself about it…[When I take my mask] off, nothing changes! I always knew I was a sociopath. I mean, why do you think I love horror movies so much? I watched every single one I could get my hands on until I realized it just wasn’t quite enough. Why should Michael Myers get to have all the fun when I could be a better monster because I’m not just some actor behind a mask. This is who I really am on the inside. [Silence] C’mon, that was a killer monologue! Literally!
Focus on that part in bold, would you? Because no other line of dialogue spoken in this finale matters. In case you glossed over it, here it is again:
“I always knew I was a sociopath. I mean, why do you think I love horror movies so much?”
Do you feel mocked? You should. It’s a tiny line that takes up mere seconds of screen time, but screenwriter/showrunner Brett Matthews is being insulting at best and downright irresponsible at worst. That one bit of dialogue reinforces the stereotype non-horror fans associate with us all too often and because of it, Scream: Resurrection now has the distinction of not only being one of the most boring horror television shows ever created but also one of the most offensive.
Never before have I seen a television series disparage its audience to this degree. Did you know that sociopaths love horror movies? No? Well, Scream: Resurrection is here to school you on that subject. To top things off, the series suggests that horror films can be used to appease or tame sociopathic tendencies in its (sociopathic) viewers, but when they’re not hardcore enough to satiate our vicious bloodlust, we’ll go on a killing spree. Alright.
It’s as if no one on the creative team had ever watched a Scream film before. The films have always done an excellent job of distancing the sociopathic/psychopathic tendencies of their killers from horror fandom. While it is true that the two are not mutually exclusive (obviously, a sociopath can be a horror fan and vice versa), the films took great care to ensure that they were sending the proper message (i.e., horror fans aren’t automatically sociopaths). Do I believe that this was an intentional message? No. I just don’t think anyone put any thought into it (something that could be said about this entire season). Scream is smart. This isn’t smart.
In Scream, Billy (Skeet Ulrich) says “Movies don’t create psychos. Movies make psychos more creative.” In Scream 2, Mickey’s (Timothy Olyphant) motive is to blame the movies for his killing spree, all the while noting that that isn’t the real reason he is killing. It’s just the reason that will make him the most famous. The same applies to Jill (Emma Roberts) in Scream 4. She doesn’t like horror movies because she is psychotic. She just wants to be famous and uses the original Scream (er, Stab) as a blueprint for her master plan. The distinction is important, and Scream: Resurrection does not make that distinction.
At the end of the day, Resurrection delivers an extremely problematic message to its viewers and goes against everything the film franchise stood for. The films respected horror fans. Scream: Resurrection shits on them. At least we now know that whatever the next entry in the Scream franchise is it can’t possibly be worse than this dreck.
To hear more of my thoughts on Scream: Resurrection, check out this week’s bonus episode of the Horror Queers podcast, in which Joe Lipsett and I read the series to filth:
Books
‘In Search of Darkness’ Book Review: A Must-Have for ’80s Horror Fans
In 2019, the documentary of 80s horror In Search of Darkness became an instant hit with horror fans. Now, a beautiful coffee table style companion book is available and is a must-own for all fans of one of horror’s greatest eras. The book is a walk down the horror aisle of the best mom and pop video store in the heyday of VHS, featuring full color photos, poster art, insightful essays and more. More than just a nostalgic throwback, In Search of Darkness is the kind of book I wish I’d had back in my years as a burgeoning horror fan but is also satisfying for the film fanatic I have become in the years since.
The format is beautifully and simply laid out, with at least a dozen (usually more) movies from each year of the decade presented in order of release accompanied by informative and insightful essays by the authors Heather Wixson and Patrick Bromley. Both authors have been mainstays of film journalism, specializing in horror, for many years. Wixson began her career in 2007 with Dread Central and has spent the past ten years as the Managing Editor of Daily Dead, from which she recently retired to focus on books and other projects. She has devoted the past several years to interviewing and writing books about the Make-up and Special Effects wizards that have brought so much to film over the years, specifically the horror genre.
Bromley is a film journalist and critic whose work can be found all over the place including right here on Bloody Disgusting. He recently provided the commentary for the Vinegar Syndrome release of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 and is known as something of a Tobe Hooper expert. He is also the founder and editor of F this Movie!, an eclectic film website, and host of its accompanying podcast. So, to be clear, the authors know their stuff.
Wixson and Bromley divide writing duties roughly in half and though each has a distinctive voice, their writing styles dovetail beautifully into a cohesive whole. Each author plays to their strengths. Being familiar with both their work I didn’t even have to look at the bylines to know that Heather covered Christine and Terror in the Aisles and Patrick took on The Funhouse and Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers. Wixson’s passion for make-up effects is clear and comes through in many of her contributions. In general, Wixson takes on the “big” titles, the movies that defined the decade the most, and Bromley covers what the more cynical among us might call schlock, but he would likely call pure cinematic bliss. There are exceptions and surprises, of course, as there should be (Patrick covers The Shining for example). Each essay dives into the history behind the film, the major players involved, the reception, and legacy with often surprising aspects drawn from interviews with the filmmakers from various sources and insights from the authors.
For all their in-depth explorations of each film, in general the authors keep their critics’ hats safely stowed, keeping in mind that every entry on the book has its fans. In fact, they may well have sold me on finally hitting play on some of the schlockier offerings of the decade like Evilspeak, Nightbeast, and Blood Diner. Hell, I may even give The Beast Within a spin for shits and giggles. The point is that this book is a celebration through and through. The authors are honest about the critical receptions of the films, which were often unkind, and sometimes let their own opinions shine through, but recognize how beloved even the schlockiest films can become given time and availability. And that is an ongoing theme of In Search of Darkness. What may have been dismissed in its day often becomes revered as the years pass. Variations on the phrase “the years have been kind to…” referring to various maligned projects like The Thing, Halloween III: Season of the Witch, The Blob and many, many others, can be found throughout the book for good reason.
Each chapter of the book also includes a rundown of the top horror movies at the box office for the year as well as the top movies of all genres for context. The final page for each year highlights some of the major news and pop culture events including the top songs, albums, and television shows. There is a large central section that pays tribute to the talent involved with the greatest horror films of the 80s including directors, actors, effects artists, and more. This section includes brief biographies of John Carpenter, Wes Craven, Stephen King, Tom Savini, Barbara Crampton, Robert Englund, and many others presented in a dynamic and engaging fashion.
One of the beauties of the book is that it covers so much ground. Sure, you’ll find Friday the 13th, A Nightmare on Elm Street, Hellraiser, and the Halloween sequels in it, but you’ll also find deeper cuts like The Changeling, The Being, and Tetsuo: The Iron Man. I was happy to find the same love given to Frank Henenlotter and Larry Cohen as to George A. Romero and David Cronenberg. In other words, In Search of Darkness is extraordinarily eclectic, highlighting the diversity that truly defined what is often viewed as a homogenous decade. The authors make the case that the 80s was horror’s greatest decade, and with what they lay out throughout this book, it’s tough to argue against that. I even came across a film or two I hadn’t even heard of before, which has become increasingly rare as the years go by.
At just shy of $85, the cover price may give some horror hounds pause, but believe me, it’s worth every penny. This is a beautiful volume that every fan of 80s horror will want on their shelf or prominently displayed on their coffee table. Filled with favorite titles, hundreds of full color photos, insightful and informative writing, this is simply a must own.
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