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:
Your enjoyment of Strung will depend on your tolerance of clichés, contrivances, and overused plot devices. There are plenty to go around in Malcolm D. Lee’s new thriller—and each one lands with a conspicuous thud. Yet this is also a movie where the formulaicness leads to amusement.
Strung is already off to a tropey start when the protagonist, a bereft violinist named Laila (Chloe Bailey), is vividly hallucinating during one of her recitals. Who does she see in that ghastly vision on stage? The sister whose death she blames herself for, of course. That’s when Laila wakes up from what’s actually a hallucination within a dream.
After a one-night stand with a handsome rando, another too-good-to-be-true opportunity soon falls into Laila’s lap. Because she’s broke, couch-surfing and forced to practice the violin inside her best friend’s closet, she jumps on it without much forethought. That opportunity is indeed suspicious, though; a wealthy grandmother (Lynn Whitfield) hires the main character to be her granddaughter’s live-in music teacher. The pay and accommodations are definitely good, but what about the client? Or clients, as it turns out.
Strung: Anna Diop as Imani, Lucien Laviscount as Marcus. (Photo by: Ilze Kitshoff/Blumhouse)
First, there’s pianist-in-training Zuri (Romy Woods), the walking definition of “precocious child in a horror movie”. She hides behind the bizarre mask once belonging to her late father, and her preferred form of communication is sharing obscure facts. Eventually, though, Zuri is the least of Laila’s problems; it’s her neglectful, demanding, and temperamental mother (Anna Diop) who proves to be the greatest obstacle at each turn. Diop just about snatches every scene with her zealous performance as the expectant Imani. Yet as amusing as that moody matriarch can be, her behavior brings up a good question: Is this cartoonishly devious character the legit villain here, or is she simply a red herring?
The kid’s creepy mask, along with Blumhouse’s involvement, might suggest a different kind of horror movie is at work here. Strung, however, is more like a smutty modernization of classic domestic thrillers that feature big houses, imperiled women, and heaps of paranoia. Keep in mind, this is not a bait-and-switch situation; Alan B. McElroy’s screenplay never leads the viewer down a different path, only to then send them another way.
Strung feels stitched together from other (and better) movies, and your sussing out the suspects is never a hard task. But on the plus side, this movie is often bright and even a little colorful; it’s not too riddled with scenes of flat darkness or washed-out palettes. The music is also another area of interest; certain choices corroborate that comparison to old Hollywood thrillers.
Chloe Bailey as Laila. (Photo by: Ilze Kitshoff/Blumhouse)
So while Strung does string out a number of overplayed twists—with some being less foreseeable than others—it’s a bit comforting to see how some ideas never cease to be used, no matter how familiar they’ve become. The cast’s eagerness also compensates for the general been-there-done-that quality. So often, their commitment to the story is integral to the movie’s best hand-over-mouth moments (and there are quite a few).
Joe Bob Briggs once said the best source of exploitation movies today is the Lifetime network. If you agree, as well as love Tubi’s own efforts in similar filmmaking, then Strung is made for you. This movie taps that same vein of suspense schlock, all while adding a few flourishes of its own.
Strung streams on Peacock starting on June 26.
Strung (photo: Peacock)
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