Lamentably, it’s probably not a stretch to say that any movie at least 15 years old that’s vaguely remembered by the public is now called a “classic” whenever it comes up in conversation (Howard the Duck excepted). But make no mistake: 1984’s A Nightmare on Elm Street is hardly a classic. Still, it did contain an interesting premise as well as a new horror icon in Robert Englund’s demonic dream weaver Freddy Krueger, a boogeyman who could kill people as they snoozed.
This new Nightmare doesn’t boast of a single thing it can call its own. The latest soulless remake from Michael Bay (who’s already pillaged and plundered the likes of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre and Friday the 13th by producing needless rehashes), this film is the ultimate example of making movies on autopilot, with everyone going through the paces merely to plop something on the screen, the sole goal being to siphon lots of money from moviegoers responding to the brand-name recognition. That’s the name of the game, of course — aside from Max Bialystock in The Producers, nobody sets out to make a flop — but couldn’t somebody have had a little fun with this project?
As it stands, the movie is dull more than anything, furthered hampered by unappealing teen protagonists (at least the original had a memorable heroine in Heather Langenkamp and a future star in Johnny Depp), clumsy direction by Samuel Bayer, a slack script full of risible moments (such as the clod who somehow falls asleep while swimming laps in the school pool!), cheesy CGI effects and a letdown performance by Jackie Earle Haley as Freddy (he possesses neither Englund’s enervating energy nor his way with a quip).
The bottom line is that it isn’t just Elm Street that’s affected; you’ll find a nightmare on any street that’s housing a theater with the misfortune to be playing this monstrosity.
This article appears in May 11-17, 2010.
