Slasher films were always best when they were disreputable, so it’s far from disrespectful to resurrect them in kitschy modern form. Netflix’s Fear Street trilogy—a three-movie summer event, with each installment premiering on a successive Friday, that’s based on R.L. Stine’s book series—certainly exudes love for its trashy, bloody genre.
The first of those entries, Part One: 1994, is a giddy throwback to the days of Scream, and as if to make that point even more self-consciously clear, director Leigh Janiak’s feature begins with a young woman named Heather (Maya Hawke) being stalked late at night by a fiend in a dark-hooded robe and mask (in this case, it’s a white skull rather than a Ghostface). Shout-outs are the order of the day in this frothy romp, and what it lacks in originality—and, more pressingly, some of the unbridled energy that made its predecessors tick—it partially compensates for with schlocky lightheartedness.
Debuting July 2—to be followed by Part Two: 1978 on July 9, and Part Three: 1666 on July 16—this first Fear Street is awash in references to classics like Prom Night, The Shining, Jaws, Poltergeist and The Town That Dreaded Sundown, the last of which comes via an ax-wielding fiend in a burlap-sack mask. Long before that maniac makes an entrance, however, Janiak’s feature concentrates on Deena (Kiana Madeira), a high schooler still fuming over a breakup with Sam, who in a corny twist is eventually revealed to be… a girl (played by Panic’s Olivia Welch). Considering the film is an homage to horror efforts whose main draws were cheap scares, tawdry thrills and corny humor, that clunky twist feels right at home, although shockingly absent from these proceedings is the primed-to-explode teen horniness that made such efforts excitable fun.
Without that hot-and-bothered sexuality, Janiak’s film proves low on combustible anxiety. Nonetheless, it tries to make up for that shortage by spinning a delirious homicidal yarn whose roots date back centuries—specifically, to 1666, when notorious witch Sarah Fier was hung for her demonic crimes and, in response, she cut off her hand and made a promise (now enshrined in a local nursery rhyme) to reach out from beyond the grave to “make good men her wicked slaves.” Fier’s execution was the start of small-town Shadyside’s cursed history, which subsequently became pockmarked with mass slaughters perpetrated by folks as disparate as an adolescent boy, a milkman, a young woman, and now the high school graduate, Ryan Torres (David W. Thompson), who went after Heather during the opening set piece. Shadyside’s legacy is central to this entire franchise, and per slasher-movie tradition, it’s laid out by a character who’s a convenient expert on it: Deena’s brother Josh (Benjamin Flores Jr.), a nerd who loves listening to White Zombie and Soundgarden while playing video games, eating pizza, and chatting with other conspiracy-minded folks in AOL chat rooms.
Fear Street boasts a soundtrack full of notable ’90s tunes (Nine Inch Nails, Sophie B. Hawkins, Iron Maiden, etc.) as well as quick nods to period-era stores and products (B. Dalton and Software Etc. get prime early screen time). While those elements are a regular presence, director Janiak doesn’t push such nostalgia into an overly obnoxious look-at-me realm. Less successful, however, are the characterizations found in her and Phil Graziadei’s script. Deena is introduced as an angry and bitter heroine, and never comes off as very likable. Nor does Madeira share any sparks with Welch, which deflates their central romantic dynamic.
Similarly uneven are Deena’s friends Kate (Julia Rehwald) and Simon (Fred Hechinger), the former a valedictorian who sells drugs on the side (so she can escape Shadyside) and the latter a… well… he’s a hyper-weirdo who says unamusing, inapt things at every turn, responds to situations in ways that no sane person would, and generally seems like an alien’s approximation of a 16-year-old guy. These individuals all talk about sex, death and the occult with rapid-fire know-how. But they mostly feel like clunky pawns in an elaborate whirligig contraption designed to keep viewers’ heads spinning and butts on the edges of their seats. Which would be acceptable (after all, when weren’t slasher-movie teens annoying?), if only they were coherent creations—and, moreover, if they were matched by killers with at least some basic, inventive visual personality.
Fear Street fares better in conjuring a mood of ’90s-era horror suspense in which any number of figures could be the cause of this suburban mayhem, ancient Satanic legends are vital to understanding the central mystery, and specters stalk the shadows with giant blades in hand. The director doesn’t waste time getting down to killers-hunt-kids business, and the material’s fleet pace definitely works to its advantage. After initially establishing its protagonists’ relationships and the fact that Shadyside is the low-rent neighbor to upscale Sunnyvale, Janiak and Graziadei’s tale largely concentrates on Deena, Sam and company’s battle against a trio of adversaries whose origins are as supernatural as their strength. At times, that makes the film move almost too fast, with everyone figuring everything out at lightning speed. Yet it also lends the action an adrenalized carnival-ride goofiness that’s in keeping with its forebears.
The sharpest part of Fear Street, ultimately, is its construction as a three-chapter affair, which feels natural—given slasher cinema’s fondness for sequels—and suggests further, grander revelations to come. So too do hints sprinkled throughout this nightmare, especially via Sheriff Goode (Ashley Zukerman), who appears to know more about Shadyside’s curse than he’s letting on, and whose name is a potential neon sign-grade clue about his true nature. A closing teaser for next week’s Part Two: 1978 is cast in such an overt Friday the 13th (and Sleepaway Camp) mold that it’s apparent that homage will continue to guide the trilogy through to its witch-trials finale. That’s fine as far as it goes. On the basis of this maiden series entry, though, one hopes the gruesome anarchy peddled by the remainder of this triptych is more successfully driven by characters and monsters worth caring about.
