Campy as anything Troma ever put out, it places Freddy Kreuger in his most surreal "real world" setting yet, making Springwood a living piece of bubblegum. The script gives him full pardon to do whatever he likes regardless of the bumpiness in the arc, and because of this, the horror in the movie is shot to death. But there's something oddly addictive about this sequel. Maybe it's my nostalgia for the ridiculous *looks* of the 80s (the clothes, the haircuts, even the set design), and maybe its the comfort I take in seeing a movie so gleefully hollow in its making. It seems as if they were working on a budget that ranked a few thousand dollars higher than that of a BBC infomercial, and blew the healthy bulk of their load on a scant few stunts. At times, the sound is on par with a really well done porn film, and the lost gaze in the eyes of the movie's lead, Lisa Wilcox is re-assuring that this is not much more than a bad comedy. But it's the kind of bad that's......uh.....good.
Watch this if you're an 80s nostalgic who likes to watch good bad movies.
Watch this if you're an 80s nostalgic who likes to watch good bad movies.