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Netflix’s Fear Street Experiment Begins with Audacity and Character


Netflix’s adaptation of R.L. Stine’s Fear Street teen horror novels is a fascinating experiment and one uniquely suited for the streaming model -both to its’ benefit and detriment. It’s a trilogy of movies that were shot all at once last year Lord of the Rings-style by director Leigh Janiak and are releasing each one week apart to the streaming service. Furthermore, the films are structured with a reverse chronology as indicated by their subtitles, beginning in 1994 before moving back to 1978 and then finally all the way to 1666. It’s all curious and  compelling, but it could only work on Netflix, which was surprisingly not the home for these movies until recently. Originally they were slated for theatrical release, which seems like a bad idea predicated on the belief that everyone would turn out for them opening week. Most moviegoers don’t. Coupled with the space in cinemas that all three movies would take up and just how irrelevant each would be after only one week, it doesn’t seem sustainable and would likely hurt the profits of the individual installments. Netflix though, with its’ orchestrated binge model and TV style seems a much better fit for consuming these kind of movies, much as I personally would still prefer them in theatres. Also it fits branding, given how much they are clearly trying emulate Stranger Things (Janiak is actually married to Stranger Things co-creator Ross Duffer), still one of Netflix’s most successful shows. And yet Netflix also kind of hurts this series, as in this model the movies are far less likely to stick once they’re no longer trending. The conversation around Fear Street, any of them, will be over in a month, and in a year they’ll be buried in the endless stream of content. And that’s sad. Both because movies deserve so much more, and because Fear Street 1994 at least is a genuinely pretty good high school horror movie.
Particularly I like the way it balances the corny with the creepy. It’s set in a town called Shadyside, which just happens to be the neighbour of a town called Sunnyvale. One is known for a history of gruesome murders and the other is full of snotty rich kids. This is presented with a weird earnestness -no winking to the camera. And both towns are represented by fitting avatar leads: the brooding, severe, and confrontational Deena (Kiana Madeira) and the preppy, comfortable though insecure Sam (Olivia Scott Welch) -ex-girlfriends as it happens, though both closeted because of the homophobic 90s. Sam is the one who inadvertently sets the whole plot in motion when she accidentally disturbs the grave of a centuries-old witch. In return the town is beset by undead ghouls of its’ many serial killers, determined to hunt Sam down and anyone in her way.
It’s a plot that reads very much like other witch’s curse stories, especially ParaNorman, also about teenagers fending off the undead while attempting to reverse a Jacobean-era witch’s spell. Fear Street dresses it however in the familiar trappings of slasher flicks. And it’s not making any attempt to hide its’ influences. An opening sequence set at a mall and featuring Maya Hawke pays close homage to the opening of Scream -the killer even dresses in a similar cheap Halloween costume. Later Deena and her friends are being stalked while babysitting in the same neighbourhood, a la John Carpenter’s original Halloween, with even some of the same framing. What makes these more than mere references though is how Janiak plays around in them. The aforementioned sequence for instance kinda pokes fun before revealing that at least some of its’ characters (mostly Deena) have a more brazen confidence than is typical of other slashers. Such moments are filled with little subversions and creative touches even as they adhere to the established tropes. And so while they’re not terribly scary, they are interesting to engage with.
The characters are too, though not necessarily for great acting (it’s fine) or an avoidance of archetype roles -a few definitely fit certain shapes, such as the little brother Josh (Benjamin Flores Jr.) being the paranormal expert and resident nerd. But they fit their functions ideally and are just relatable enough to connect without being fully believable representatives of modern teenage-hood -which works for the kind of world this is. Specifically, it’s Deena and Sam who carry the movie for much of it; the most original aspect of this film that is otherwise so steeped in derivation is their relationship, and how instrumental it is to the story and their actions. Deena’s investment is entirely based in her feelings toward Sam -the scepticism she has about the validity of the witch and the towns’ supernatural history that would in another movie drive her character arc is forgotten in short order, and instead her story and that of the film revolves around a challenging ultimatum that tests her commitment to her girlfriend. And it’s very refreshing for a horror movie, made more so by the fact that while the two have differing personalities, they are both tenacious and bold, and neither the conventional “last girl standing”. The actresses have good chemistry and the relationship history is curious as well -notably the insinuations that Sam comes from a religious/homophobic household and how that has impacted their break-up. I wish the movie had touched on this more, but it would rather focus on the girls coming back together than dwell in their separation. Which is fair.
Janiak wrote the screenplay with Phil Graziadei, which is one of the films’ more inconsistent elements. The dialogue is strong but the exposition rather weak. However, Janiaks’ talents as a director are much better expressed. She’s quite good at injecting and carefully executing subject matter more adult than is expected of teen-oriented media. There’s an intimate sexual scene, not just between Deena and Sam, but transitioning across all the main characters as they ready for what might be a suicide plan. Yet it’s innately natural and tender. Then there’s the violence, which comes in random bursts of severity that I’m sure Janiak gets a kick out of. Most of the kills are relatively PG-13-style stabs or slices, but a couple characters succumb to more creative ends -one death in the climax is exceptionally gruesome for a movie like this. Janiak understands the tolerance of her audience for this kind of material, how strong an impression it leaves, and I think she delights in how difficult it makes her film to classify.
Fear Street: 1994 is a nostalgia movie, though it’s not as overwhelmingly plugged into its time period as its’ genre counterparts (that said a lot of background material is present purely to show off the 90s aesthetic). Its’ homages though obvious are purely celebratory, and though it has a degree of shallowness, there’s smart direction, strong characterization, and just an atmosphere enthralling enough to latch onto. At the very least it’s a good start to this series, whether or not individually it has any lasting power given this release. But I’m hopeful and intrigued to see where it goes from here -in the coming weeks we’ll see how those sequels match up.

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