I hope you’re all sitting down, Freddy fans. Nice and comfy? Good. Because I have something I have to say that will shock you.
I did not hate Freddy’s Dead: The Final Nightmare. In fact, I kinda, sorta, um, I dunno…. liked it?
I know, I know. This is the most reviled entry in the series by both critics and fans. But you know what? I don’t see what all the fuss is about. I didn’t grow up with this series, so I didn’t have a feeling of acute disappointment with each new installment as the series strayed further from its horror roots. I’m not being intentionally contrarian; I can only report on the movie I saw. And Freddy’s Dead is an unselfconscious and loony lark, one that jettisons Freddy’s history for a campy, slightly cheesy tone that befits the direction the series had taken. It’s never frightening, but taken on its own terms, Freddy’s Dead offers modest pleasures.
As the film opens, Springwood’s last surviving teenager (Shon Greenblatt) has been chased out of town by Freddy. Appearing to be homeless, and with no memory of his past, he’s taken to a center for wayward youth. Maggie Burroughs (Lisa Zane), a bleeding-heart shrink, tries to help him and, after finding a newspaper article in his pocket, decides to drive him back to Springwood in order to jog his memory. However, three of the other residents of the shelter (which include a baby-faced Breckin Meyer) hitch a ride in Maggie’s van in an attempt to escape.
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As it turns out, Freddy was using the kid (known to everyone around him as John Doe) in order to lure Maggie back to Springwood, since he’s apparently powerless beyond the town limit. Once our heroes arrive in town, they find the place to be an eerie wasteland in which older folks make believe that the young people are still among them. In an attempt to get some rest, the group decamps in an abandoned house on Elm Street (no points for guessing which one), and Freddy starts his reign of terror anew. Maggie soon learns why Freddy wants to meet her so badly: it turns out she’s his daughter (say what?), and he hopes that she’ll take over the family business. Maggie discovers that the only way to defeat Freddy is to drag him out into the real world, which will sap him of his power.
Maybe it’s because I had absolutely zero expectations for this one (the good folks in the comments section have repeatedly reminded me that it’s their least favorite) that I found myself enjoying Freddy’s Dead. I’ll concede that as a Freddy movie, it’s the weakest of the bunch; I can imagine longtime fans groaning at the revelation that Freddy had a daughter, and that he was chosen by malevolent spirits to undertake his diabolical mission. However, the performances are strong throughout (especially Yaphet Kotto, who shines in his small role as a dream specialist), and there are a number of witty cameos (including Roseanne and Tom Arnold as a feuding couple, Alice Cooper as Freddy’s abusive guardian, and Johnny Depp doing an amusing send-up of anti-drug commercials).
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Perhaps because of the movie’s goofy tone I found Freddy a much more refreshing, appealing presence this time out. I laughed out loud at an early scene in which Freddy is tailing a character who’s lost his hearing aid in a dark factory — he does a silly little dance behind the guy, flailing his arms and bouncing in a semi-circle, which might be the best bit of physical comedy in the series so far. In another scene, Freddy is controlling a character via joystick, and when he growls his utterly gratuitous wisecrack (“Now I’m playing with power!”), I couldn’t help but smile. And even though I can’t comment on the 3D effects in the final showdown (I don’t own a pair of the requisite glasses), the simple fact of its existence solidifies the tone of Freddy’s Dead: pure, William Castle-esque grade-Z entertainment.
A couple mores beefs, though. Earlier, I griped that The Dream Warriors opened with a Poe quote. The Dream Child begins with a passage from the Bible, and now, Freddy’s Dead is preceded with a line from another famous Freddy, the philosopher Nietzsche. Come on. And would it have killed anyone to include a cover — or better still, the original — of the stone-cold classic Curtis Mayfield song Freddy’s Dead?
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Perhaps Freddy Krueger is too much a product of the 1980s to make it in the grunge era. Nevertheless, Freddy’s Dead goes down swinging.
Tune in tomorrow as I tackle Wes Craven’s return to the franchise with New Nightmare.
Schedule of Nightmares:
