Meet the New Scream, Same as the Old Scream

In the months leading up to its release, it was just as hard to not get my hopes up for Scream as it was easy to get excited for it. The prospect of a new addition to a franchise, one that respects and glorifies its legacy characters in just the right way after all these years, is like a shiny toy you’ve never played with. There’s always going to be this deep curiosity, the desperate desire to test it out, because it might be totally incredible, right? But there’s also the fear that it might be terribly boring, and won’t hold a candle to the last shiny toy you lost your mind over. I mean, this was the slasher of all slashers we’re talking about here. What if it wasn’t right? Among many things that ended up winning me over about Radio Silence directing group members Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett’s Scream, the main one was that—like its predecessors—it understood how we were going to feel about it before we even got to see it. It knew that I would be torn about its existence. And that, folks, just scratches the surface on why the new Scream, in all its meta-for-a-modern-time goodness, is the best installment since the Wes Craven original.
Stab 8—I mean, Scream (which, yes, is technically Scream 5 or 5cream)—knows a thing or two about how to play the reboot field. Screenwriters James Vanderbilt and Guy Busick come in right off the bat and do some new things that keep the classic staples of the franchise (for example, the opening scene) fresh: We get to keep our opening girl (Jenna Ortega). Ghostface makes a scene, but he doesn’t stake his claim—she doesn’t die. It’s a smart move, considering we know that opening scene (and all of its conventions, hilariously made fun of in a great intro montage) by heart at this point. It lets the audience know that we are not entirely playing by the rules we’ve always known. By this time in the franchise, it would be lazy if they didn’t change things up.
Similarly, they give us an unreliable narrator of sorts, our leading lady Sam (Melissa Barerra). The film follows her from Modesto, California back to our good old Woodsboro when her estranged sister is attacked by Ghostface 10 years after the last time he struck the town. Early on, the audience gets clued into the fact that she is taking antipsychotic medication—another choice by the screenwriters to do something wholly different. We’re used to Sidney Prescott, whose intellect and sound mind are what lead her to uncovering the truth in each installment. With a protagonist with mental health struggles at the wheel, not only does the conversation change, but the audience’s trust also wavers more. Like most decisions made in Scream world, it’s great for the movie.
The fifth installment—which takes place 25 years after the original—doesn’t hold back when it comes to analyzing the inner workings of a classic reboot down to the bones. Scream has always been a franchise for film lovers—and it’s never been afraid to be meta as hell, as meta as it needed to be to get its point across. It’s something we all love about the series, and part of why we keep coming back. We want to nod our heads in agreement when the funny guy says something entirely true to life, to look at the person next to us and see them nodding as well. To that end, there is quite a bit of focus on Stab 8, the film universe’s version of the latest movie in the Sidney Prescott franchise. In the film’s world, folks were disappointed in Stab 8. It didn’t live up to their expectations. The movie preemptively parallels the Stab 8 response to that of the film it lives inside, and further, how we as an audience were cautious about this installment before its release—one of the most satisfying moves by the writers. In typical Scream fashion, it does so in the most meta way possible, and while it’s a little like beating a dead horse, it always is and always has been. That, after all, is part of the point—to make you remember it.