3/10
"Every town has an Elm Street"
25 September 2000
Warning: Spoilers
WARNING: REVIEW CONTAINS MILD SPOILERS

A couple of years back I managed to see the first five films in this franchise, and was planning to do an overview of the whole Elm St. series. However, just two years on and I find I can't remember enough about them in order to do it – I guess they couldn't have made much of an impression. From what I do recall, some of the sequels – Dream Warriors in particular – weren't as bad as is often made out, though even the original was no classic. Generally, the predictability of the premise (if people fall asleep they get murdered in their dreams) doesn't lend itself to narrative tension. But while I cannot recall much of the first five films, I do know they never plumbed the depths of Freddy's Dead.

An indication of how sick of Freddy the public was at this point can be judged by the fact that the film was promoted solely on the character's demise. The fact that the movie's conclusion is not even hidden, but in fact the entire purpose for the film's being goes to illustrate how vacant, soulless and cynical this venture was.

Taking the morally questionable idea of having a child molester as the charismatic villain, Robert Englund's in-no-way-scary interpretation booms with laughter. I always thought Freddy's mockery of the teenage victims was less aimed at the characters than at the teenage audience that could ever watch this tripe. It's like Englund's crying out "we know this is garbage – but you're paying to see it, so who's the one laughing?" And I'm sure victims of child abuse would be disheartened to see such an insensitive depiction of their plight. Was Freddy's appearance in the films always so rudimentary? All he gets to do here is a few "haaaaaaaaaaaaaarr – har – har – hars" and that's it. If this was the only Elm St. film you'd ever seen you wouldn't get to know the character at all. Even as the character pre-death in a flashback Englund plays him as a boo-hiss pantomime villain with a slop of Transatlantic (ie. overstated, misplaced and not at all funny) irony.

Acting is almost universally poor. Just look at how many times Breckin Meyer overacts with his hand gestures and body language. Only Kananga himself, Yaphet Kotto, keeps his dignity. And when Roseanne, Tom Arnold and Alice Cooper show up, you can almost visibly see the film sinking further into the mire. The script, too, is absolutely lousy, almost wholly without merit. Carlos (Ricky Dean Logan) opens a road map, upon which the Noel Coward-like Freddy has wittily written "you're f**ked". When prompted for the map, Carlos responds "well the map says we're f**ked". Who wrote the screenplay, Oscar Wilde?

Or how about the scene where Carlos is tortured by Freddy, his hearing enhanced to painful levels? So Freddy torments him by threatening to drop a pin – a potentially fatal sound, given that all sounds are magnified. Oddly, the fact that Carlos shouts at the top of his voice for him not to drop it seems to have no effect. "Nice hearing from you, Carlos", quips Freddy, hoping some better lines will come along. It's also worth noting that dream sleep doesn't occur instaneously, so being knocked unconscious wouldn't allow instant access into Freddy's world. Though as part of the narrative contains a human computer game and a 3-D finale plot logic isn't that high on the list of requirements.

The teenagers heading the cast this time are really the most obnoxious, dislikeable group in the whole series. Tracy (Lezlie Deane) is the only one who gets to greet Freddy with "shut the f**k up, man" and a kick in the scallops. And was incongruous pop music always part of the ingredients? Freddy's Dead. No laughs. No scares. No interest. No fun.
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