The Sequel Curse is a phenomenon that has plagued Hollywood since someone decided to make a second The Birth of a Nation (1915) film. When money-hungry executives catch the slightest whiff of commercial success, the greenlight for a sequel is imminent. Small-brained studio heads believe that if they copy the same formula again they are bound to achieve similar results, which is rarely the outcome. In the worst cases, second instalments ruin the integrity of the first film, like Jaws 2, Grease 2, The Hangover II and III, and most recently, Joker: Folie à Deux (take the hint, Todd Phillips). Those titles and countless more just prove that trying to replicate the success of their predecessor usually ends in an embarrassing failure.
Horror movies in general are more privy to criminally bad sequels—the Halloween franchise has thirteen chapters, most of which are unwatchable, Jason Takes Manhattan is the laughing stock of the Friday the 13th series, and absolutely no one saw American Psycho II. How can the masterminds behind the original concepts come back from that? How do you stop a bad sequel from ruining your legacy? Wes Craven knows, and the evidence lies within the critically hated sequel A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge, and the fan-favoured follow up A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors.
The first of the Nightmare franchise was a box office hit and became an instant classic to audiences and critics alike, even revamping Wes Craven’s reputation after some previous career flops. Craven birthed the concept of A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) after reading about Asian Death Syndrome—a peculiarity about survivors of the Killing Fields passing away in their sleep after reporting horrific night terrors and resisting going to bed. He wrote and directed the film as a one-off, never intending it to become a franchise and probably well aware of the sequel curse. After its commercial success, producers wasted no time jumping into a second instalment. Since Craven had no interest in continuing the story at the time, other writers were enlisted, and when offered to direct it, he turned it down after disagreeing with many elements of the script. Craven had no part in Freddy’s Revenge other than being credited as creating the character of Freddy Kruger. The curse pattern continued, and upon the 1985 release, the Nightmare sequel was hated by horror fans. It was dubbed as tedious, not scary, unmemorable, clunky and riddled with illogical plot holes. Production company New Line Cinema questioned whether or not they should continue the franchise, but when Craven came to them with the desire to salvage what was left of his creation and write a third movie to close up the franchise, they let him cook.
Dream Warriors stars newcomer of the time Patricia Arquette as Kirsten, who we meet chasing dry instant coffee with Diet Coke in an attempt to stay awake. At this point in the franchise, no explanation is needed—we already know that in Kruger’s world, sleep is the enemy. Freddy first appears with just his finger blades replacing Kirsten’s bathroom sink faucet and quickly slashing her wrists. Hearing her scream, Kirsten’s mom bursts through the door, waking her out of the nightmare and assuming she just attempted suicide. Probably rightfully so, Kirsten’s mom sends her to a psych ward. This scenic change marks a shift in the horror franchise by transcending the teeny-bopper, Depp in a crop-top, high school classroom vibe that the series was once confined to. Craven and his co-writers instead used Freddy’s latest spree to bring attention to the stigma around mental health in the 1980’s.
In the halls of Westin Hills Psychiatric Hospital, Kirsten is introduced to the six other youths in her ward; Kincaid, Joey, Taryn, Phillip, Will and Jennifer— a collection of misfit toys who are all having the same recurring nightmares. The hospital staff insists that they are all just delusional lost causes. They’d rather sedate their patients than hear them out, writing off their shared dreams as a form of group psychosis or mass hysteria. The kids have no choice but to form a trauma bond, since the only people they can trust in this proclaimed “snake pit” are each other. That is until the return of original Nightmare final girl Nancy (Heather Langenkamp) as a pattern dream specialist, who gains the trust of Kirsten and the rest by knowing the lyrics to Freddy’s Lullaby. She leads a hypnosis session to merge all of their nightmares together, and discovers that each of them carries a different power that, combined, could wipe out Kruger once and for all. In reality, Will is in a wheelchair, but in the dream realm, he can walk; Taryn is a self-hating depressive, but transforms into a confident hot-girl-street-fighter in her dreams; Kincaid is stuck in solitary confinement, but the dream world gives him super strength. The list goes on, but each kid’s pitfall in reality becomes their superpower—making them the Dream Warriors.
The most impressive element of number three—that may even trump the original—is the meticulous script by Craven and his co-writers. In only ninety-six minutes, they are able to divvy up equal time to each of the Warriors; giving them all development and a resolution. The script also provides an answer to why these particular kids were chosen, and finally explores the mystery of Kruger’s origin story, which was glaringly missing in the first two films. To balance out the grim and onerous nature, Freddy is allowed to be completely unhinged and uncensored, blessing us with his most flagrant and out-of-pocket one-liners. The best quotes always come before Freddy goes in for another iconic and absurdly camp kill. In a pre-CGI world, the practical gore effects add so much texture, a sticky and slimy corporeal feeling that makes each death a tangible, somatic experience. My personal favourite kill in the movie is when Jennifer—a ward patient who is convinced she will become a Hollywood star—falls asleep while watching the Dick Cavett show. Suddenly, Dick turns into Freddy as he’s interviewing Zsa Zsa Gabor. His head protrudes out from the television and grows mechanical arms, lifting Jennifer up into the air and taunting, “This is it, Jennifer, your big break into TV!” In full Poltergeist fashion, he smashes her head into the TV set and exclaims, “Welcome to Primetime, Bitch,” a line improvised on the spot by Robert Englund.
The over-the-top silliness is what has made the Nightmare series so enjoyable, but Dream Warriors takes it to another level with its powerful subtext. Aside from horror excellence, it’s also a glaring portrayal of the systemic problems in mental health care, and the end of innocence for kids of suburbia. Freddy Kruger is used as a messenger for how brutal life can be as you grow out of childhood. Kruger can disguise himself as someone welcoming, someone safe, then exploits that and turns it into a death trap. He is an embodiment of your worst fear, more aptly your worst nightmare. Wes Craven and director Chuck Russell created a mosaic look at what a horror film can be—a synthesis of light and dark, an amalgamation of popcorn slasher and a meditation on the end of innocence. The combination of all these elements, Robert Englund’s always fab portrayal of Freddy, teamed with a score by the goat Angelo Badalamenti, makes Dream Warriors the best chapter in the franchise, and one of the few films out there to defy the dreaded sequel curse.
*the original version of this piece was published on Flip Screen on October 22*