1984’s A Nightmare on
Elm Street, written and directed by Wes Craven.
Starring Heather Langenkamp, John Saxon, Ronee Blakely, Johnny
Depp, Jsu Garcia, Amanda Wyss, and Robert Englund.
What is it about?
Teenagers in Springwood, Ohio, are having unsettling dreams
about a dream figure, a horribly burnt man, clad in a fedora and sporting a glove
of razor blades. A quartet of American youth, Nancy (Heather Langenkamp), Glen
(Johnny Depp), Tina (Ronee Blakely), and Rod (Jsu Garcia), try to support one
another in understanding and combatting what they come to know as Fred Krueger.
Fred has a mean streak, and also has an ace up his sleeve- he comes for you
when you are at your most vulnerable, when you’re asleep in the dream world.
Nancy’s dad, Lieutenant Thompson (John Saxon), and mother, Marge (Ronee
Blakely) are skeptical at first, but come to believe that Krueger, is the stuff
that nightmares are made of. Will the group survive Krueger’s efforts to make
them sleep eternally?
Why is it worth seeing?
Hollywood has worshipped its monsters for as long as
tinseltown has been around. Primal creatures such as Nosferatu, the Mummy, and
Frankenstein’s Monster, eventually evolved into the 1970/80’s phenomenon of horror’s
sub genre of slasher films. While the often exploitative era had its share of faddish
and non memorable efforts, it also produced a gaggle of 2.0 monstars- Jason
Voorhees, Michael Myers, Pinhead, Leatherface… and (eventually come to be known
as) Freddy Krueger, the starring Nightmare
antagonist, he of the razor sharp wit (not to mention finger blades).
With his gloved entry into the franchise slasher sweepstakes, Writer/Director Wes Craven came relatively late to the party (there were already multiple Friday the 13th and Halloween films already in existence), but he brought a refreshing level of originality to an already saturated sub genre. His unique story, of a boogeyman who comes for you in your sleep. sought to transform the standardized plateau of monsters stalking horny teenagers, into something new again. Awash in that sensory feeling of a nightmare that is both familiar but foreign, viewers could connect with its teenage characters’ alienation from uncaring adults before showing them something all too mystifying in its dream state logic.
That mysterious something, as shown in the grungy opening credits, is the disfigured figure of Fred Krueger. While he cuts a menacing figure, angular in body and fedora clad in head wear, what makes him stand out is that he is not content to merely eliminate his victims. Rather, he toys with them, feeding on their fear to thrive and grow in power. His sadism, coupled with matter of fact taunting, makes for an appropriately iconic and charismatic figure- the stuff franchises are made of. Actor Robert Englund, hardly an imposing figure, makes for a more agile and character filled monster than the typical wrestling behemoths seen behind the masks of most slasher films. But Fred(dy) isn’t the only franchise figure introduced here. Every respectable horror franchise has its “Final Girl”, and here we meet actor Heather Langenkamp. Her character of Nancy, as far as the screenplay is concerned, goes farther than most horror film stars do, credible as being terrified and confused by the horror she is living through, while still being able to go on the offensive, as competing against Fred(dy) demands. It’s just a shame that Langenkamp isn’t up to the task. She’s not alone though- other than its disfigured antagonist, the actors portrayed here generally have no business campaigning for an Best Actor Oscar nomination (although Johnny Depp has a memorable debut, as well as a final scene for the ages). Watching a cast of adults (Langenkamp herself was 19 when making this) pretend (poorly) to be teenagers, alongside adults pretending to be adults (John Saxon’s portrayal of the beleaguered sheriff almost veers into camp), can feel like a nightmare. That, and a script that betrays teenagers as people not really that interesting, speak to the commonplace struggles of the slasher sub-genre- that is, characters whom you are tempted to root for their demise.
Craven’s creation of a mythological dream realm creature is helped along by some impressively organic (and gross) practical effects. From Fred(dy)’s head poking through a wall, to a glove in the bathtub, to a geyser erupting out of a bed, to a zero gravity struggle, it all combines to reinforce that while the realm of the dream world is a scary place, what is even more memory searing is watching a person go through that scary place while you’re stuck helpless in reality. While the film has a reported budget of $1.8 million, it is a very dark, crude, and almost diagonal when it could just go straight-ahead experience. Speaking of straight ahead, something that robs the film of a good ending is the studio’s insistence on what stayed in the final cut. Craven’s original ending, where we learn of how much influence the belief in Fred(dy) actually carries, was followed by a bizarre but clearly intended for a sequel conclusion that is something more reminiscent of Monty Python than a horror franchise. But that’s the thing about Hollywood- they’re living in a dream world, and sometimes we are lucky enough to meet dream warriors who can buck the system for a limited time.
With his gloved entry into the franchise slasher sweepstakes, Writer/Director Wes Craven came relatively late to the party (there were already multiple Friday the 13th and Halloween films already in existence), but he brought a refreshing level of originality to an already saturated sub genre. His unique story, of a boogeyman who comes for you in your sleep. sought to transform the standardized plateau of monsters stalking horny teenagers, into something new again. Awash in that sensory feeling of a nightmare that is both familiar but foreign, viewers could connect with its teenage characters’ alienation from uncaring adults before showing them something all too mystifying in its dream state logic.
That mysterious something, as shown in the grungy opening credits, is the disfigured figure of Fred Krueger. While he cuts a menacing figure, angular in body and fedora clad in head wear, what makes him stand out is that he is not content to merely eliminate his victims. Rather, he toys with them, feeding on their fear to thrive and grow in power. His sadism, coupled with matter of fact taunting, makes for an appropriately iconic and charismatic figure- the stuff franchises are made of. Actor Robert Englund, hardly an imposing figure, makes for a more agile and character filled monster than the typical wrestling behemoths seen behind the masks of most slasher films. But Fred(dy) isn’t the only franchise figure introduced here. Every respectable horror franchise has its “Final Girl”, and here we meet actor Heather Langenkamp. Her character of Nancy, as far as the screenplay is concerned, goes farther than most horror film stars do, credible as being terrified and confused by the horror she is living through, while still being able to go on the offensive, as competing against Fred(dy) demands. It’s just a shame that Langenkamp isn’t up to the task. She’s not alone though- other than its disfigured antagonist, the actors portrayed here generally have no business campaigning for an Best Actor Oscar nomination (although Johnny Depp has a memorable debut, as well as a final scene for the ages). Watching a cast of adults (Langenkamp herself was 19 when making this) pretend (poorly) to be teenagers, alongside adults pretending to be adults (John Saxon’s portrayal of the beleaguered sheriff almost veers into camp), can feel like a nightmare. That, and a script that betrays teenagers as people not really that interesting, speak to the commonplace struggles of the slasher sub-genre- that is, characters whom you are tempted to root for their demise.
Craven’s creation of a mythological dream realm creature is helped along by some impressively organic (and gross) practical effects. From Fred(dy)’s head poking through a wall, to a glove in the bathtub, to a geyser erupting out of a bed, to a zero gravity struggle, it all combines to reinforce that while the realm of the dream world is a scary place, what is even more memory searing is watching a person go through that scary place while you’re stuck helpless in reality. While the film has a reported budget of $1.8 million, it is a very dark, crude, and almost diagonal when it could just go straight-ahead experience. Speaking of straight ahead, something that robs the film of a good ending is the studio’s insistence on what stayed in the final cut. Craven’s original ending, where we learn of how much influence the belief in Fred(dy) actually carries, was followed by a bizarre but clearly intended for a sequel conclusion that is something more reminiscent of Monty Python than a horror franchise. But that’s the thing about Hollywood- they’re living in a dream world, and sometimes we are lucky enough to meet dream warriors who can buck the system for a limited time.
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