Cute But Kind of Evil

I remember the thrill of my first horror movie at the age of seven. My babysitter let me stay up late to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer on TV. For a sheltered kid, I had captured the trifecta of awesomeness: no parental guidance, movie I shouldn't be watching, and reveling in the glory of life after 8pm. But as I sat huddled on the couch witnessing hapless teenagers get the life drained out of them, I encountered my first true feeling of terror. This was worse than when Mom took my Barbies away in kindergarten or having to eat tuna casserole for dinner. I'd thus far grown up watching Sesame Street, Care Bears, My Little Pony, and Full House. Power Rangers was considered a little too violent and Rugrats sounded like a show with bad kids. The second I saw that vampire laying across clueless Kristy Swanson's pillows, I left my innocence behind.

It's the same feeling you experience when finding out Santa isn't giving Mickey special dog biscuits to keep him from barking against a velvet-clad intruder bearing toys and craving cookies. You lose that sense of assurance you'd possessed as a wide-eyed kid. Everything isn't always as it seems. At some point, I might have had to stake a vamp.

Terrible a movie as it was (Donald Sutherland WHHHHY?) I refused horror flicks until high school when "The Ring" rolled around and everyone thought it would be a fun Friday night to watch Samara crab-walk her way to death-dealing destruction...from a well...flickering across the television screen of her poor victims. I remembered again why I'd abstained from this genre for so long. My brain just wouldn't let it go. I couldn't stop thinking about how creepy it was and what if it really happened and if that TV went snowy on me I would lose my *&%$. Give me a good thriller or a mystery, now that's legit fun. But coupled with a recent viewing of "The Shining," "The Ring" only compacted an intense desire to leave frightening films in the hands of my better-equipped friends. This would also explain the equally frightening collections of rom coms which until very recently counted "The Wedding Planner" among its numbers.

So I missed watching "A Nightmare on Elm Street" and "Friday the 13th" until my twenties. "Saw" will never be on my Christmas list. I can't picture turning to John and saying, "You know, honey, I could really go for a double feature of "The Grudge" and "The Omen"...want to grab some popcorn?" No matter how many times my sister tells me to watch "The Amityville Horror" it won't happen. I am just not built to withstand those kinds of movies.

What spurred this walk down memory lane was part of the game John and I are playing: to watch all of our combined DVD's before being allowed to purchase more. And since I'd never had the pleasure of meeting Freddy Kreuger, watching all of John's Elm Street gems was part of the deal. I was curious, not psyched. I knew very well that Freddy was the terror of my elementary school friends' slumber parties. But I also approached it knowing the bulk of this series were made before the true dawn of CGI. So we began a proper horror education.

Here is what I learned:

1. The first one was scary but dated. I jumped, I yelped, I was delightfully engrossed. Also? Call Stacy and Clinton because Freddy is screaming for a new wardrobe. He clearly needs better friends...which he would have if he didn't kill them while they slept. Rude.

2. The second was unnecessarily "adult-teen" homoerotic and boring. That whole scene in the shower? Where's Benson and Stabler when you need them? I believe it does win the award for most violent bird death since "The Birds" though, and that's something.

3. The third was better, so much better, and saw the return of Nancy. She took some acting lessons, got seriously educated, but unfortunately got bigger hair. I enjoyed the cast of teens and the overall lack of actual Freddy screen time even though he offed our original heroine in a badly wall-papered dream room.

4. Blargh. I fell asleep. I didn't like any of the characters. Mercifully, Freddy performed his kindest deed yet by slaying Patricia Arquette's replacement in the first 30 minutes. Water beds are also a lot more dangerous than I originally thought.

5. Yes! Alice is cooler, blonde, and dating Dan the Stud. Her life is awesome. But as the first storied scene of all her buddies gathered for a grad photo splashes across the screen I groan. "Clearly the girl with a Momager is going to die first, shortly followed by the stoned hipster..." Alice lives and so does her unborn child, but Dan the Stud doesn't make Krueger's cut. Freddy is terribly scared of Mother Mary Helena who he affectionately calls "bitch" instead of "Mom." I'm guessing she didn't hand out hugs and smile rainbows during much of his childhood. Column? Win.

6. I don't like this. They moved the story from Cali to O-Hi-O and we are introduced to our purported hero in a Wizard of Oz like crashdown. His name escapes me, as does any logic of the story. I woke up in time to see Roseanne Barr and Tom Arnold making a hilarious cameo before I fell back asleep. We'll be finishing this up tomorrow. Verdict? Undecided.

"The Nightmare" series is admittedly not that scary...not in the sense of other horror fare gracing our movie screens in this age of advanced computer animation and children reared on information overload. But it's a step in the right direction as far as my horror-tolerance is concerned. John and I realized one of the most interesting things a franchise could do would be to make a movie or show where the townsfolk legitimately tried to figure out why so many teenagers kept dying in weird, gruesome, and often bizarre ways (I'm looking at you Elm Street, Buffy, Supernatural, and even General Hospital). For now, though, a thank you to Freddy Kreuger. I bet that's the first time anyone has ever put that phrase your way.