Scream 3 (2000)
Wes Craven
Wes Craven finally reveals the worst kept secret of Hollywood: girls fuck their way to stardom. He should know, he's been making these teen slasher flicks for a while now, and with Neve, I'd be making as many sequels as my physical abilities permit.
The (hopefully) last entry in the Scream saga is by far the worse of the three. It has all the gloss of the previous films, except it is bloodier, less imaginative, boring, not funny, and quite repulsive (I'll explain this last one in a bit). I admit that patching a storyline after S2 would be a tall order for anyone with less than grade school education, but the budget should have allowed the studio to hire someone better than the moron who came up with the long lost brother idea. On top of that, and as a direct consequence of the total lack of things to film, the movie is an endless slaughterhouse, where various second-rate "stars" get butchered in inexcusably dull fashion, and this time around the killer is clumsy, and even he seems too eager to die and get everything over with. There are no false leads --- except for two, the first of which made no sense (the detective) and the second would have been downright insane (the director) --- and the movie sort of rolls on, painfully aware of its pointlessness, until the audience delivers the coup de grace by walking out.
One of the most annoying characters resurfaces again, except this time she has a horrifying hairdo (I swear I could count exactly 125 hairs there... total) which is no compliment for the overtly anorexic figure. I am talking about Courtney Cox. The pounds seem to melt away like spring snow to reappear, mysteriously, at various places on her on-screen boyfriend and off-screen husband. Awful looks, pathetic acting. These two should have died. And he should go back to the AT&T commercials.
Then there's the deranged half-brother played by none else than Felicity's ex-boyfriend. What, the fuck? I know it's sort of a staple to have the all-American boy next door cast as the serial killer, but enough is enough. This guy couldn't even wipe the booger off his face, let alone slash anyone's throat. And Neve would kick his ass any day. They must have put in stunt doubles in that scene where he supposedly beats the crap out of her. I think she can snap him like a twig with a look. Anyway, if the killer was supposed to creep behind the unsuspecting victims and then lob them on the head with an iMac laptop, I could imagine the mouse-tottering wanker as a "killer" (except Windows98 (tm) has a higher mortality rate itself)... but I am not making any promises.
Then there's the Millenium reject who plays the ole horny bastard of a director, who is just as talentless as his house lacks in good decorative taste. Thankfully, we hear just a trifle of his pseudo-hoarse voice before he gets silenced forever. So he raped Neve's mother (did that make the killer his son?), so he ravished many would-be starlets (including the really ugly one supposedly playing Neve in their Stab sequel), so what? Oh well, slash, slash, he dies.
Slash, slash, and one time Melrose Place and Brisco County, Jr. star goes to bimbo heaven. Slash, slash, a bunch of inconsequential people loose various amounts of bodily fluids (this one made me happy, as the killer despatched the annoying ex-MTV VJ to the hell where they all go). Slash, slash, and Elaine's dumb boyfriend and M&M commercial's dumb guy, is dramatically plastered all over the import tiles. Slash, slash, KABOOM, and yet another supposedly drunk, but really sober only stupid actor goes on the list of the permanently unemployable. Slash, slash, and the lovable suspect from the first and second episode agrees to early retirement. Slash, slash, and a black guy tries to impersonate the dove of peace, only unsuccessfully, and he loses the argument with gravity. Slash, slash, and I think at least one more dull character dies, this time I can't even recall who she was supposed to be. Slash, slash, and one goes through the mirror. Mirrors should be prohibited by law. It seems every stupid movie has at least 10 minutes of mirror shots. I think Sam Raimi milked this baby for at least the next 10 years. Slash, slash, did I forget someone?
There's only one breath of fresh air, and, incidentally, she happens to be the ONLY reason I did not walk out on the movie. Neve Campbell is superb. She's haunted, she is angry, she is psyched, she is beaten, she is shot, she is kicked, sucker punched, and she is damn beautiful. This movie would be a flop without her... Ok, it still is a flop, but at least I did not ask for my money back.
Recommendation: only for Neve fans. Rating: 3/10.
February 12, 2000. BLS