Death of a Unicorn

Director: Alex Scharfman
Starring: Paul Rudd, Jenna Ortega,Will Poulter, Anthony Carrigan, Sunita Mani, Stephen Park, Jessica Hynes, Téa Leoni, Richard E. Grant, Kathryn Erbe
Running Time: 107 min.
Rating: R

★★½ (out of ★★★★)  

For better or worse, Death of a Unicorn is both everything its title suggests and also somehow a lot less. Making his directorial debut, writer Alex Scharfman immediately gets down to business when a unicorn is struck by a car in what might be the film's most compelling scene, if only because that premise carries so much potential. But after creating an air of mystery surrounding where this story's headed, it unfortunately goes downhill from there.   

Accurately described as a mix of drama, fantasy and action, it's all of those at once, yet plays as a single, irritatingly long joke that runs out of gas before the conclusion. Sure, it's messy, but the repetitiveness makes it feel more like a slog, testing viewers patience with how often one character is continuously ignored and dismissed. That even actors as talented as the film's co-leads can't save this speaks volumes, even if they fare better than expected given the circumstances. 

Widowed lawyer Elliot Kintner (Paul Rudd) takes teenage daughter Ridley (Jenna Ortega) with him to spend the weekend at the estate of his wealthy boss Odell Leopold (Richard E. Grant), also meeting his wife Belinda (Téa Leoni) and son Shepard (Will Poulter). But on the drive over, Elliot accidently hits and severely injures what appears to be a white unicorn with his car. Laying on the road near death, Elliot seemingly puts it out of its misery with a tire iron, though not before Ridley experiences strange visions and halucinations after touching its horn. 

When Elliot and Ridley arrive at the mansion with a unicorn in their trunk, Leopold sees an opportunity to use the creature's magical healing properties to cure his cancer and monetize the treatment, enlisting his family, butler (Anthony Carrigan), assisstant (Jessica Hynes) and a pair of scientists (Sunita Mani and Stephen Park) to help. But while Ridley's research uncovers the true danger of what they're doing, larger, more vicious unicorns look to reclaim their young. With Ridely's warnings falling on deaf ears, Elliot will have to choose between his own daughter and an obsessively greedy boss.  

Scharfman takes the increasingly popular route of satirizing the ultra wealthy, with all their bizarre habits, rituals and obliviousness to how normal people live or behave. This is taken to the extreme once the eccentric Leopolds uncover the potential windfall that awaits from replicating and distributing the unicorn's healing powers. But despite their makeshift lab and the reluctant support of a spineless Elliot, the consequences turn predictably dire.

Up to this point, seeds are planted for what should be an exciting mystery-adventure, until the script starts hitting the same notes. Feigning interest in Ridley, the Leopold clan do their best to shun the only character with a brain, writing her off as a clueless, angsty teen. But that gag's run into the ground when these affluent manipulators are bombarded with evidence that harvesting mystical unicorns isn't the safest idea. 

The gory, chaotic unicorn attacks are accompanied by poor digitized effects, but considering how movies twice this budget often look worse, that's actually not the dealbreaker here. Neither is Rudd, who fares decently in a thankless role, his charisma partially shelved as the uptight Elliot spends most of the picture dutifully following the family's marching orders. 

Ortega is the undeniable star of this, and while she can play moody teens in her sleep by now, she holds the film together as a still grieving Ridley, whose pain is only compounded by a father she can't connect with. Poulter's performance as the spoiled, patronizing nepo baby is also a highlight, but by the time Sheperd gets his, the plot's already preoccupied with redeeming Elliot, who treats his own daughter as badly as the Leopolds. 

Rather than settling on a tone, the story's all over the map, squeezing what it can into a run time that feels longer than its 107 minutes. Luckily, the zany acting turns and occasional flashes of creativity do help keep everything afloat once Scharfman's script flies off the rails in the last two acts. While not quite funny enough to qualify as a comedy, but containing too few scares to pass as horror, its closing minutes feel unearned, leaving us to wonder how much better this could have been with a more consistent vision.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice

Director: Tim Burton
Starring: Michael Keaton, Winona Ryder, Catherine O' Hara, Jenna Ortega, Justin Theroux, Monica Bellucci, Willem Dafoe, Arthur Conti, Santiago Cabrera, Danny DeVito, Nick Kellington
Running Time: 104 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

There's always this tendency to assume the worst when a beloved property like Beetlejuice is resurrected decades after the original's release. Years of rumors and false starts weigh on fans who can only hope it's not just a cash grab and some creative thought went into continuing the original's legacy. This concern is especially real with Tim Burton's intended sequel, which seemed perpetually stuck in pre-production since the early 90's. 

As time passes, expectations fall, which is why it comes as such a relief that Beetlejuice Beetlejuice resembles the kind of follow-up audiences wanted but didn't think they'd ever get. Signaling a welcome return to form for Burton, it rekindles flickers of his former glory throughout, while still looking and feeling like the Beetlejuice we know. The director's recent work on Netflix's Wednesday, could almost be seen as a prelude to this in that his twisted imagination is once again freed up to run amok with fewer boundaries.

It's 2024 and Lydia Deetz (Winona Ryder) is now a psychic medium hosting her own supernatural talk show, Ghost House, where she contacts the dead. But her sullenly skeptical teen daughter Astrid (Jenna Ortega) isn't interested, still harboring grief and resentment over the death of Lydia's husband and her father, Richard (Santiago Cabrera). And as Lydia's slimy TV producer boyfriend Rory (Justin Theroux) prepares to take their relationship to another level, professional artist and Deetz matriarch Delia (Catherine O' Hara) breaks the news to Lydia that her father Charles (played by Jeffrey Jones in the original) just died in a horrific accident. 

With the family reconvening in Winter River for Charles' funeral and preparing to sell their old home, Astrid falls for local teen Jeremy Frazier (Arthur Conti) while Lydia finds out the hard way that Beetlejuice (Michael Keaton) isn't done with her yet. Now working as an "Afterlife Manager" on the other side, he's being stalked by ex-wife Dolores (Monica Belucci), a murderous soul sucking cult member being hunted by action star turned ghost detective Wolf Jackson (Willem Dafoe). But when Lydia realizes Astrid's in danger and only Beetlejuice can help, she's reminded that any deal with this mischievous demon comes at a high price.

Recognizing there's such a thing as overkill, Burton strategically uses the Beetlejuice character, both in terms of screen time and his overall purpose. Of course, we all know he's keeping Keaton in his back pocket until the ghoul's ready to unleash his goofy madness, or more accurately, has a reason to. And writers Alfred Gough and Miles Millar come up with a good one, putting the now middle-aged Lydia at a place in life that makes sense given her past and tumultuous connection to Beetlejuice. 

Now a famous TV star, Lydia's addicted to pills, dating a creep and unable to connect with daughter Astrid on any level, particularly when it comes to discussing the latter's deceased dad. And if there's a benefit to have waited this long for a sequel, it's that Ryder's now old enough for her character to struggle parenting a version of her rebellious younger self. That she's played by a perfectly cast Ortega is only icing on the cake. 

While Keaton and Ryder have publicly expressed their desire to reprise these roles for a while, it's no secret the addition of Ortega is what finally got this greenlit. As strong a match for Astrid as Ryder originally was for Lydia, the pair's natural chemistry consistently shines through in every scene they share as mother and daughter. And though this iteration mostly plays it safe, Ortega's Astrid is given the film's bleakest, most compelling subplot, serving as the primary catalyst for Lydia and her stripe suited nemesis's reunion. 

Catherine O' Hara delightfully hams it up as Delia, spending most of the running length in hysterics over Charles' death, while also remaining strangely unfazed by it, keeping with Burton's quirky, bemused take on the macabre that's punctuated much of his previous work. And while there was no chance of Jeffrey Jones returning as Charles, it's a treat watching how brilliantly Burton works around it, using photos, paintings and an extremely clever animated stop-motion sequence to help make him an even bigger presence dead than alive.

Once Beetlejuice is fully involved, Keaton runs with it, and if family drama justifiably monopolizes the film's early goings, he dictates the rest by recapturing Juice's brand of sarcastic quips and physical comedy. The plot involving his murderous ex Dolores is probably the script's weakest, but it's still well executed, notable for a brief but memorable black-and-white flashback depicting the couples' sordid history. And when the action shifts into the Afterlife and takes all the characters along, it picks up steam before arriving at a wacky, divisive ending that really flies off the rails without veering far from the franchise's roots. 

This doesn't approach prime Beetlejuice or Edward Scissorhands territory, but it's fun seeing everyone slide back into their roles as we revisit a universe that hasn't changed much at all. Between Danny Elfman's score, the similar production design and a continued emphasis on practical effects, Burton clears the toughest hurdle by recognizing any legacy sequel's biggest competition is its own nostalgia. By effectively tailoring the story to present day, he forgoes cheap fan service, instead crafting a worthy successor that will leave viewers wanting even more.

Scream VI

Directors: Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett
Starring: Melissa Barrera, Jasmin Savoy Brown, Jack Champion, Henry Czerny, Mason Gooding, Roger L. Jackson, Liana Liberato, Dermot Mulroney, Devyn Nekoda, Jenna Ortega, Tony Revolori, Josh Segarra, Skeet Ulrich, Samara Weaving, Hayden Panettiere, Courtney Cox
Running Time: 122 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)   

Ghostface takes Manhattan in Scream VI, a bigger, more brutal follow-up to the 2022 requel rightly credited with resurrecting the franchise after some underwhelming entries. And high expectations accompany it, mostly due to a drastic shift in setting that moves the action from Woodsboro to New York City. With the series currently riding high on momentum, the idea makes perfect sense, and while the execution isn't flawless, it's still a worthy next chapter that marks an official torch passing to the next generation of characters.

The "Radio Silence" duo of Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett resume directorial duties, proving their last outing wasn't a fluke by again hitting the right balance of thrills and meta humor we've come to expect from the stronger entries in the franchise. As for Neve Campbell, she's hardly missed, since it's hard to imagine a version of this story where Sidney Prescott doesn't feel shoehorned in. Even if her reasons for opting out are entirely valid and future appearances could still be in the cards, the timing couldn't be better for focusing entirely on the new cast. Utilizing legacy characters has always been a challenge since their impact tends to lessen the more you lean on them. This wisely centers around two fresh faces who in short time have built just as strong a connection with audiences.

A year following the Woodsboro killings, sisters Sam (Melissa Barrera) and Tara Carpenter (Jenna Ortega) are now living in New York City attending Blackmore University with twins Mindy (Jasmin Savoy Brown) and Chad (Mason Gooding) when another string of murders indicate Ghostface (voiced again by Roger L. Jackson) is back. Leaving previous killers' masks behind while seemingly framing Sam for the crimes, those "core four," along with Mindy's girlfriend Anika (Devyn Nekoda), Sam and Tara's nosy roommate Quinn (Liana Liberato), Chad's awkward roommate Ethan (Jack Champion), Sam's secret boyfriend Danny (Josh Segura) all emerge as suspects. 

On the case is Quinn's dad Detective Bailey (Dermot Mulroney) and FBI Special Agent Kirby Reed (Hayden Panettiere),who returns after surviving the 2011 attacks. Gale Weathers (Courtney Cox) is also back, attempting to help despite having penned another book exploiting the sisters' recent ordeal. With a traumatized Sam still coming to terms with her lineage as Billy Loomis' (Skeet Ulrich) illegitimate daughter, she attempts to protect a fiercely independent Tara, as the new killer looks to Woodsboro's past for inspiration. Bolder and more dangerous, Ghostface leaves a bloody trail, targeting Sam as the final victim.

For horror fans, the NYC setting was bound to invoke numerous comparisons to the much maligned Friday The 13th Part VIII, which mostly took place on a boat, failing to fully capitalize on its urban surroundings. This stands in stark contrast, as apartment buildings, congested streets, restaurants, bodegas, subways and parks are all put to use, with the filmmakers making good on their promise to have the action differ from anything that came before. It has a tough opening to follow after the last entry, but kicks off with a shocking Ghostface swerve that'll have you do a double take. The story then sort of settles back into what we'd typically expect, while still managing to be clever and subversive.

The strained sibling relationship between Sam and Tara evolves, but an increased focus on the former's trauma elevates Sam to main protagonist. In a timely, inspired twist, she's essentially becomes a public pariah, with online conspiracy theories and misinformation circulating that she's the killer. Things have gotten so bad that even her therapist (Henry Czerny) wants nothing to do with it. Tara responds by wildly partying to bury the pain and move on, continuing to resent her sister's overprotective ways. But if the last film belonged to Ortega, it's Barrera who owns this one, effectively filling Campbell's shoes.

With a script that digs deeper into the psychology of Sam, Barrera knocks it out of the park in a tough, sympathetic portrayal that carries the picture through its highs and lows. Ortega again impresses, particularly when it comes to her realistic registering of genuine fear and terror when confronted by Ghostface. A thrilling sequence where the shotgun wielding killer hunts both in a bodega is a highlight that finds the actresses at the top of their respective games.With Campbell and David Arquette gone, Courtney Cox carries the torch for the original legacy cast, even as she goes through the usual paces as Gail. Aside from an excitingly staged apartment showdown with Ghostface, there's just not much left for her, which isn't a travesty since Cox still excels in serving the character's diminished purpose. 

Considerable mileage comes from Panettiere's return as more hardened Kirby, whose role as an FBI Agent is larger than you'd expect, with her motives generating curiosity and suspicion. The same could be said for the others, as any one or more could easily be Ghostface, whose warehouse shrine to Woodsboro's history hugely factors into the plot and eventual reveal. The intrigue in determining the killer is still ridiculously fun and this ending might be the craziest yet. As usual, it rarely holds up to logical scrutiny, but the enjoyment in speculating who's behind the mask makes up for it.

The only obvious flaw involves Ghostface, who's never been this ruthlessly violent, but strangely claiming few victims. The far lower body count could stem from a desire to subvert expectations, but too many targets miraculously survive certain demise. Hesitation to kill off anyone in an extremely likeable cast is understandable, but sometimes it has to be done, especially when the characters openly tout how all bets are off under these "new rules." Sometimes the only thing that really raises the stakes and suspense for subsequent encounters are deadly consequences, which are in shorter supply here. Aside from that, there's little to complain about.

Scream VI will ultimately be remembered for two masterful set pieces. The first involves an unbearably tense ladder escape with a gruesome payoff and another finding the group in crowded subway full of masked Ghostfaces. Clocking in as the longest entry yet, a slight trim wouldn't have hurt, but it's offset by the performances and those sequences, which rank among the series' best. Should the franchise stay this course, there's reason to believe even better sequels could await. And that's a resurgence few saw coming, especially for the sixth installment of a decades old horror staple.      

X

 

Director: Ti West
Starring: Mia Goth, Jenna Ortega, Brittany Snow, Scott Mescudi, Martin Henderson, Owen Campbell, Stephen Ure, James Gaylyn
Running Time: 106 min.
Rating: R

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)  

At first glance, it may not be obviously apparent just how straightforward a slasher Ti West's X is, as he does an admirable job making it play like some kind of meta genre deconstruction and throwback ode to 70's horror. You'd be hard pressed to find a recent film more enamored with the original Texas Chain Saw Massacre, at least in terms of plot and setting. And that's where the similarities end. Despite looking great and carrying a specific authenticity steeped in the era, when it ends you can't help but shrug. Utilizing everything short of John Larroquette's opening narration to pay homage to TCM, you instead realize after a promising start this comes closer to matching the quality of its derided sequels and prequels than the genuine article. 

The film's saving grace is a really interesting idea that isn't mined enough, carried by a star-making performance that's probably worth the admission price alone, Moving at a glacial pace, it lacks suspense, isn't exactly "scary" and leads where you'd expect. Part of the problem might be the amount of time spent on the making of the intentionally bad pornographic movie within a movie, with the drawn out scenes slowly draining the life out of the actual story. And yet it's still easy to see why West would feel compelled to craft a prequel centered around its best character, especially considering the astonishing talent of his lead actress. Far from unwatchable or poorly made, X is a ride, albeit a more disappointingly shallow one than expected given its promising premise.

It's 1979 and aspiring pornographic actress Maxine Minx (Mia Goth) joins her producer boyfriend Wayne (Martin Henderson), actors Bobby-Lynne (Brittany Snow) and Jackson Hole (Scott "Kid Cudi" Mescudi), and director RJ (Owen Campbell) with girlfriend Lorraine (Jenna Ortega) for a road trip to Texas to shoot their adult film, The Farmer's Daughters. Upon arriving at the guest house Wayne negotiated to rent from the farm's elderly owners Howard (Stephen Ure) and Pearl (Goth), the crew is met with immediate hostility and skepticism by the married couple. And that's even before they find out what they're filming in there. 

As RJ's lofty ambitions to direct an important work of cinematic art are derailed by tensions within the cast, Pearl silently stalks Maxine, becoming increasingly jealous and sexually aroused by the actress's  youth and vitality. Those feelings soon extend to everyone else, with this old, frail woman going on an unhinged rampage to extract revenge on those she thinks are living lives that should still be hers. Tragedy and bloodshed ensues, as it becomes a battle of wills to see who will be able to make it out of this farm house alive. 

West gets more than a few things right, at least making it partially understandable how this has garnered acclaim comparable to some of A24's previous horror outings, most of which are superior. If nothing else, it looks and feels like the late 1970's, with a strong soundtrack, wardrobe and production choices that believably invoke the mood of the period. And the opening half hour successfully introduces all the characters while setting up an intriguing if overly familiar scenario that has you eagerly anticipating what follows. 

The deliberate pacing hints that maybe West has taken a page out of the original TCM playbook by slowly building suspense until the actual carnage. But at some point the script just loses its way, becoming so engulfed in the filming of this porno that the narrative hits a wall and never quite recovers. You'd figure if nothing else worked, at least the fictitious adult film scenes would grab attention, but they're actually kind of a bore until a conflict within the ranks splinters everyone off in different directions and the massacre starts. 

An elderly woman going on a killing rampage to recapture her glory days from a much younger generation is a different concept ripe for further exploration. The framework's also there to invoke genuine empathy, but before you know it we've descended into a series of graphic kills played for the kind of self referential visual gags found in any contemporary slasher, only better filmed. But what's most frustrating is how in between that West pauses for these meditative moments and beautiful shots, suggesting a complexity that lurks beneath the story's surface, struggling to escape.

Mia Goth's a revelation as both the free-spirted, coke-snorting Maxine and murderous Pearl, completely unrecognizable under heavy prosthetics as the latter, with every movement and mannerism leaving no doubt we're watching a woman nearing her end, desperately clinging to a past that can't again be revisited, even vicariously through Maxine. West just eventually turns her into a killing machine, but Goth brings humanity to a handful of scenes where she's afforded that opportunity. As Maxine, she's equally effective, carrying this story on her back as an aspiring starlet marching to the beat of her own drum, conveying this odd mix of strength, vulnerability and ethereal quirkiness that's already earned the actress comparisons to the great Shelley Duvall. That feels accurate, as does a future filled with roles even better than this.

Scream's Jenna Ortega extends her horror streak as the shy, introspective Lorraine, who eventually takes steps steps to bust out of her churchgoing shell, much to boyfriend RJ's displeasure. Brittany Snow is saddled with silliness, Kid Cudi does well with a fairly underwritten part, and Henderson and Campbell fulfill what's required of them as the somewhat sleazy older producer boyfriend and film geek director. But of everyone, it's Goth's magnetic screen presence that stands out the most.

There is a clever ending twist and the fountain of youth themes West plays with do land, at least up until a last act that doesn't really match the tone of anything that preceded it. As strange as it seems, the best news to come out of this is its prequel Pearl should likely give Goth her own showcase to fill in the character's blanks, possibly making this effort more tolerable on a rewatch. But for now, labeling X an unpleasant, messy experience will have to be the best backhanded compliment it'll get.                                                  

Scream (2022)

Directors: Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett
Starring: Melissa Barrera, Jack Quaid, Mikey Madison, Jenna Ortega, Dylan Minnette, Jasmin Savoy Brown, Neve Campbell, Courtney Cox, David Arquette, Mason Gooding, Sonia Ammar, Marley Shelton, Skeet Ulrich, Kyle Gallner, Heather Matarazzo, Roger L. Jackson
Running Time: 114 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

After years of devolving into more of a parody than the slasher films it was supposedly satirizing, the fifth Scream returns to its meta roots with a smart, wildly entertaining whodunnit that offers up a shockingly intelligent, multi-layered commentary on modern horror. Consider it the Cobra Kai of the series, expertly balancing the returning legacy characters with well written and performed newer ones that actually have the potential to stick around, injecting the franchise with its first signs of life in over a decade. It would be easy to understand if Ready or Not directors Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett (collectively known as Radio Silence) decided to get out now and leave on top, as they've just made the definitive sequel with this fifth installment, or at least the first in a very long time that doesn't feel like a Scary Movie follow-up. 

Everything that could possibly go right does here, and the few things that don't carry a critic proof defense because of the knowing, self-referential machinations of the plot, which feel fresh and of the moment. Between a more brutal, unrelenting Ghostface, some new twists on familiar franchise tropes and a delicate incorporation of returning characters, it cleverly introduces "Requel" to the pop culture lexicon while taking shots at elevated horror and toxic fandom. Of course, we already knew what the word entailed, but screenwriters James Vanderbilt and Guy Busick cleverly send up that entire idea, breathing new life into what had become a tired property.

Twenty-five years after Billy Loomis and Stu Macher terrorized Woodsboro, high school student Tara Carpenter (Jenna Ortega) receives a frightening landline phone call from the Ghostface killer while texting her friend Amber (Mikey Madison). Tara's brutal attack brings her estranged older sister Sam (Melissa Barrera) back to town with current boyfriend Richie (Jack Quaid). Soon, they meet up with Amber, Wes (Dylan Minette), twins Mindy and Chad Meeks-Martin (Jasmin Savoy Brown and Mason Gooding) and Chad's girlfriend Liv McKenzie (Sonia Ammar), who all piece together that Ghostface has returned and is likely among them, with the killer or killers motivated by something from the past.  

As the body count rises and mistrust within the group quickly escalates, Wes' mom, Sheriff Judy Hicks (Marley Shelton), tries to narrow down the suspects while Sam and Richie recruit the now retired Dewey Riley (David Arquette) to reluctantly help. But he's still aching over his divorce from morning TV host Gale Weathers (Courtney Cox), whom he warns along with Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell) to stay far away from Woodsboro. But with the kills continuing, that might be a request both find impossible to honor, as Tara's friends all look to expose each other as Ghostface before it's too late.      

Right from the opening phone call it's evident this film will subvert whatever expectations remain from Drew Barrymore's iconic 1996 scene. It basically takes that entire sequence and flips it, with results that prove to be the ideal lead-in for the direction they've chosen to go. Roger L. Jackson continues his successful streak as the mysterious, sinister voice quizzing victims on scary movies, but puts a different spin on it that lets us know the sequel's really come to play. And since there's usually a new Ghostface (or sometimes multiple ones) in each new installment, it makes sense that this one would be particularly dangerous since they've had a lot of source material to study. This makes it hard to recall any previous entry where the killer seemed as forceful and unrelenting in their attacks. 

There are a lot of gruesome, uncomfortable scenes, mainly because the filmmakers rarely cut away from the action, often lingering for a disturbing amount of time as victims stare right into Ghostface's eyes. It's something you'd almost expect to see in a Halloween film, but represents a massive leap forward considering too many Scream pictures had a tendency to make a total joke of the killings. And for all the talk about rules and tropes, the characters aren't walking cliches or lazily written modern counterparts to their predecessors despite varying connections to them. They also give Ghostface some grueling fights, making the Woodsboro slasher's job tougher than it's ever been, in large part due to their familiarity with history. It's definitely not business as usual so kudos should go to the studio's marketing team for holding back in trailers and commercials to ensure key details weren't given away.

It's not exactly fair to label Melissa Barrera's Sam the "Final Girl" since that doesn't carry with it any guarantees she makes it to the end, or even that she's not the killer herself. But she can comfortably be called the lead protagonist since it's her that much of the action revolves around. As major connective tissue between the original and newer characters, she has a dark, Dexter-like secret that the screenplay fleshes out extremely well, with Barrera believably delivering a lot of expository dialogue and nailing it. The fractured sibling relationship between her and Jenna Ortega's Tara powers the narrative, as former Disney actress and You star Ortega not only fills Barrymore's shoes, but goes more than a few steps further, registering physical pain, fear and trauma in a realistic manner that hasn't exactly been a hallmark of the series up until now. 

Ortega's work ranks amongst the best we've gotten in any Scream sequel, but nearly equaling her is a sarcastically likable Jack Quaid, who kind of channels a late 90's Joshua Jackson as Sam's boyfriend Richie, getting to deliver many of the script's most cleverly satirical lines. Jasmin Savoy Brown is also a huge standout as kind of a modern take on Jamie Kennedy's horror rules-obsessed Randy Meeks, and for good reason, since her character's his niece. The rest of the newer cast is also uniformly excellent, with Dylan Minette carrying a memorable, Psycho-inspired sequence that uses misdirection to mine maximum suspense in a playful way that the other films have rarely explored to this extent.  

It's a while before David Arquette's Dewey appears, and while his previous appearances have meant less with each subsequent film, this feels entirely different. Like a veteran gunslinger called to action for one last stand, there's a tinge of sadness and regret in Arquette's performance that wasn't there before. Whether you want to chalk it up to age, experience or simply being given something meaningful to dig into this time, it's a high water mark for him. His complicated relationship with Courtney Cox's Gale Weathers also strikes a surprisingly bittersweet note without sacrificing any of the warmth or humor associated with the character.

Similarly, Scream queen Neve Campbell is in this only as much as necessary as Sidney, fully completing her evolution into the Jamie Lee Curtis of the franchise, minus the latter's timeline confusion. Her return is carefully handled, dovetailing nicely into the current storyline but never overwhelming it. Sidney offers sage advice while quickly reestablishing herself as a badass fans know and love, all with the recognition that she can only go so far and that these kids are going to have to face this, with or without her help. Campbell doesn't miss a beat, taking full advantage of a script that finally shows the character the respect she's owed, but in an appropriately impactful supporting role that doesn't overstep its bounds. By doing this, the film proves the franchise can have a future without her, should it ever come to that.

By this point, the Stab movies within the movies provide more of an inspiration for the killings than the actual sequels, so it's fitting that the rules have shifted focus from surviving to actually uncovering Ghostface. Using them to cleverly reference this franchise's stumbles and address a lot of popular online complaints about other soft reboot attempts turns the tables on hardcore fans for a change. No previous entry has leaned into the whodunnit aspect as well or strongly as this, luring the characters and viewers into a false sense of security regarding who's responsible. They'll always be watchers claiming they "knew the whole time," but the ingenious aspect to this script is how it has everyone second-guessing themselves because certain picks just seem too obvious, or maybe not obvious enough. 

While rumors are true that original Ghostface, Billy Loomis, appears in hallucinatory form thanks to some de-aging technology on Skeet Ulrich (that admittedly doesn't look great), the bigger story is that it serves the story rather than feeling like a stunt. It's also brief enough that any complaints are skillfully covered by the context in which he's used. The last act is a bit long, but the final reveal justifies it, featuring one of the more wildly unhinged Ghostface portrayals we've seen, as one particular performer chews all the scenery in sight while literally and metaphorically returning to the scene of the original crime. It's a perfect balance brutality and absurdity when the curtain's pulled back on the intricasies of this wacko meta plan. There's also a spectacular death scene that provides the ultimate in-joke for those familiar with the recent career of the actor involved.

So much discussion has centered around how a new Scream film could possibly stay true to the late Wes Craven's vision and still manage to creatively fill the tank for any potential future installments. But this threads that needle so convincingly that those who skipped the sequels wouldn't miss much. And yet, it still acknowledges them in the best of ways, playing fast and loose within that timeline to spring even more tiny surprises on us. With a sense of renewed purpose, the legacy characters return in a logical manner that supplements an already tight story, enabling the actors to bring a welcome gravitas to their roles that's gone missing for too long. It finally feels like the right amount of time has passed for their presence to mean something again and the filmmakers really work to make it count. Better yet, this only further facilitates the efforts of the new cast, many of whom have earned another go-around. And it's definitely been a while since we could say that.                                        

You (Season 2)

Creators: Greg Berlanti and Sera Gamble
Starring: Penn Badgley, Victoria Pedretti, Jenna Ortega, James Scully, Ambyr Childers, Carmela Zumbado, Robin Lord Taylor, Chris D'Elia, Charlie Barnett, Melanie Field, Danny Vasquez, Saffron Burrows, Magda Apanowicz, Elizabeth Lail
Original Airdate: 2019

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)
 

If anyone's looking for conclusive proof of Netflix's complete domination over the ailing network and cable TV platforms, go no further than the soapy thriller series You, which in 2018 aired its first season on Lifetime to moderate acclaim but few viewers. The show (loosely based on the novel "Hidden Bodies," by Caroline Kepnes) is narrated by a seemingly mild-mannered New York bookstore manager named Joe Goldberg (Penn Badgley) who stalks, then eventually dates aspiring writer Guinevere Beck (Elizabeth Lail), revealing himself to be a murdurous psychopath, using social media and technology to control and manipulate every move she makes.

Unlike most Lifetime shows,this really had something on its mind, turning the mirror on its audience and their relationships. If you're not a Joe, there's always that chance you could know one. And despite its flaws, it didn't let either gender off the hook. So how embarrassing must it have been as a network to cancel this series, only to have those very same unwatched episodes become a phenomenon on Netflix and find out the problem wasn't the show, but the thought of having to watch Lifetime. Well, anyone could have told you that.

Wisely, Netflix adopted You and produced a second season, even if the first ended in such a way that you wondered how it could possibly continue. And now that it's here, we find out that it couldn't, or at least not in its previous incarnation. It would have to be something entirely new, which it is, highlighting the stark differences between network and Netflix. Not only does it look better production-wise, it's better written and directed. It's more subversive. And it's funnier. But the biggest plus is a far richer tapestry of supporting characters, each of whom are intriguing enough to carry their own series. If it seems like the show's taking a place within an entirely different universe that's because it is, transplanting Joe into whole new environment and making him squirm, resulting in 10 episodes that really have no business being as ridiculously fun and addictive as they are.

Looking for a fresh start, Joe escapes his past as a bookstore owner in New York City and moves to Los Angeles, attempting to leave his violent tendencies and obsessive behavior back east, most notably his murder of ex-girlfriend, Beck, now a posthumously best-selling author. Assuming the identity of "Will Bettelheim," he gets a job at Anavrin, a trendy, Whole Foods-like grocery store. There he meets Love Quinn (Victoria Pedretti), an aspiring chef working in the kitchen whose family owns the store and has let her self-destructive twin brother Forty (James Scully), "manage" it while his screenwriting and directing career implodes.

Almost instantly smitten by Love, Joe fights every urge he has to get involved, but it isn't long before he's slipping back into his old patterns, stalking and monitoring her every move. He also attracts the unwanted attention of his new landlord, investigative journalist Delilah (Carmela Zumbado), who's immediately suspicious of his odd behavior, even as he forms a protective bond with her fifteen year old, movie-obsessed sister Ellie (Jenna Ortega). Having grown up without parents, she's been forced to grow up quickly and seems headed for disaster in her new internship with famous stand-up comedian, Henderson (Chris D'Elia). But Joe's biggest problem is the reappearance of his ex-girlfriend Candace (Ambyr Childers), who knows he killed Beck since it's what he tried to do to her. She arrives in L.A. threatening to expose him, while Joe struggles to keep his violent, sociopathic urges under control long enough to build a new life with Love. 

"Psychological thriller" isn't a label anyone would necessarily affix to You's first season, which isn't to say it wasn't highly effective and a huge step up from the myriad of men abusing women programming put forth by Lifetime. Besides the clever commentary on how social media and technology has influenced modern relationships, both its leads were depicted as heavily flawed and prone to some very poor life choices. Except only one was a stalker and murderer and the further showrunnner Sera Gamble got into Joe's head, we realized that nearly all of the efforts bring depth and complexity to the character came from Penn Badgley's performance rather than the writing. Clearly the show's villain, he played Joe with a hero complex, always thinking his actions were just and moral, self-rationalizing to no end.

Dexter at least killed serial killers, walking this tightrope that constantly put his friends and family in danger, before eventually growing into tired trope. Joe has no such "out" so Gamble wisely realized if we want to keep following this guy's story, he'd have to evolve into more than a creepy cyber stalker with an underground bookstore chamber. Transplanting him to L.A.provides that opportunity, with the big difference being that this time Joe really does try to overcome his worst impulses.

A good case could even be made that Joe may not be the most unstable character in a season full of them, spending most of these 10 episodes trying to do the right thing and succeeding maybe about half the time, and with a considerably lower body count than expected. This combined with the sheer hilarity of someone so introverted and straight-laced struggling to fit into an environment of over-the-top, narcissistic Californians creates a more intriguing dynamic this time around, allowing Badgely to do some of his best dramatic and dark, dryly comedic work

For every step Joe takes forward, he seems to take another two or three back. Despite stalking Love, he resists going all in for a relationship out of fear he'll fall back into his old habits. When he steals the real Will Bettelheim's (Robin Lord Taylor) identity and inherits all of his financial problems in the process, he practically goes out of his way to not only spare his life, but befriend him. Or at least as much as you could befriend someone you're holding captive in a storage facility. And much like he befriended young neighbor Paco in season one, he does the same again for Ellie, maintaining his savior complex of "rescuing" underprivileged troubled or neglected kids that remind him of himself.

The continued glimpses into Joe's childhood, this time primarily focusing on his relationship with his mother (Magda Apanowicz), paints an even clearer, but sad and disturbing picture, of how this sociopath came to be. But in his honest attempts to forge a real relationship with Love, he's forced to show some actual patience in dealing with her wildcard, black sheep brother, Forty, who's played with reckless abandon by a series-stealing James Scully. A recovering addict whose filmmaking dreams went awry, much of the season sees Joe trying to manage and contain his mercurial behavior, not mention stopping him from sabotaging his chances with Love. Besides Candace, Forty's Joe's biggest threat, if only due to his manic unpredictability and protectiveness of his sister.

Filling Elizabeth Lail's shoes wasn't going to be easy, as her performance was one of the show's highlights, but as Love, Hilary Duff lookalike Victoria Pendretti manages to put those potential comparisons to bed. She's a completely different character played in a totally unique way, with the actress getting us on her side immediately as we fear whether history will repeat itself as this young widow falls deeper for Joe. She also has a backstory that's as involving and as complicated as his, eventually figuring into the proceedings in a major way. If there's a star-making turn here, it's hers, as Pendretti brings a lot verve to a role that could have easily come off as silly in less capable hands. 

Of course, things will collapse for Joe. That's why we're here. With so many threats and obstacles coming from all angles and Candace looking to pin him to the wall for Beck's murder, it's only a matter of time before Love finds out his big secret. The polarizing twist that occurs in the back half of the season definitely changes the game, with Joe finally meeting his match, though likely not at all how he envisioned. Once the trigger is pulled on this reveal, the narrative does start to lose a little steam, if only because the antipication in getting there will always eclipse the payoff, no matter how big. But it makes sense, and potentially takes the show in a competely new direction for its third season, which was far from a guarantee when this started.

With its setting and criminal twists and turns, this more closely resembles the recently rebooted Veronica Mars on Hulu than anything that's aired on Lifetime. And with a far larger canvas on which to paint, it transcends its cable roots to evolve into a compelling, binge-worthy drama that enhances all that worked about its first season while eliminating a few of the elements that didn't. The reward can be felt in our investment in the show's protagonist, who exits the season as a far more complex and complicated character than before, and yet somehow even more messed up. No longer just a guilty pleasure, You is now simply a blast.