Sinister Summer: Friday the 13th Retrospective Review

Ch ch ch, ah ah ah. The sleepaway summer camp experience was forever changed in the summer of 1980 when a slasher slaughtered a bunch of horny teenagers along the shores of Crystal Lake. Spanning more than three decades and a dozen feature films (too bad it’s not a baker’s dozen, wink), the Friday the 13th franchise made us never look at a hockey mask in the same way after Part 3. This iconic franchise has also found its way back into the headlines with the legal battle over the rights to the Friday the 13th name between the original screenwriter Victor Miller and producer/director Sean S. Cunningham. I recently ran a Twitter poll to determine which is the crowd favorite in the series, and the majority of respondents voted for the original movie, followed by Jason Lives. Like the majority of the 80 respondents in the poll, the original is also my favorite, although it is not a “Jason” movie per se. Releasing in 1980, Friday the 13th helped shape the modern slasher along side Texas Chainsaw Massacre and HalloweenA Nightmare on Elm Street would arrive in 1984. With his trademark hockey mask and machete, very few have lived to tell the tale of their encounter with one of the most terrifying slashers to ever appear on the silver screen. His body count is in the triple digits! From screen to screen, Jason has gone from the cineplex to your TV and computer by way of interactive media. Unlike the campy-ness of Freddy or more focussed kills of Michael, Jason is by far the scariest of his iconic counterparts. My friend Dani is a diehard Jason girl, while I am Freddy and our friend Derek is Leatherface. Let’s take a stab at exploring why this franchise continues to be a favorite!

Variety! That is what you get with Jason as opposed to Michael. Although Leatherface and Michael began the teen slasher genre, it was Jason who revolutionized it by his variety of gruesome methods of killing his victims. Whereas Freddy, much like a cat, loves to toy with his victims before going in for the final kill, Jason is a death machine who wastes no time in taking out all those who stand in his way. Motivated by his death brought about by teenage lifeguards making love while he drown in the murky waters of Crystal Lake, Jason typically murders those who are engaging in promiscuous activities. Sometimes, he will throw you for a loop by taking out someone in a wheelchair or another passerby. He is relentless. And before universe crossovers were commonplace between franchises, Freddy vs Jason got together for a terrifyingly good time in 2003, and then again at Halloween Horror Nights in 2016. While installments 2–12 feature the mask-wearing (burlap sack followed by goalie mask) machete yielding hulking man, the first film features Mrs. Pamela Voorhees (Jason’s mom) as the killer. It’s because of this that the original film feels much different than the others. But it certainly inspired the rest of the franchise. Think of the first one as Hitchcock’s Psycho in reverse,  precisely how Norman thought it was happening. A killer mother who’s overprotective of her son. Although it’s not a “Jason” movie, it did lay the groundwork for the rest of the series and the ending of the film provides the haunting moment that gave birth to the lore and legend of Jason that would carry through the remainder of the films.

Keeping the identity of the killer a secret, until the very end of the film, sets this movie apart from its predecessors Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and Jaws. Furthermore, Friday the 13th adds more gore, kills, and gruesome makeup effects that look cheesy today but were quite shocking, back in ’80, to up the ante against the competition. The news of the gruesome effects was so intriguing that horror fans turned out in masses to see the film. By all accounts the characters are not terribly memorable–we certainly don’t have a Laurie Strode–and the killer’s identity isn’t revealed long enough to truly form an opinion; but it’s that jump scare/twist at the end that gave birth to a mammoth of a franchise that has lasted for over thirty years on big and little screens alike.

The perspective of the killer. One of the most memorable elements from the original Friday the 13th is being in the shoes of our mysterious killer. Unlike other slashers that preceded, the identity is kept secret as I mention in the previous paragraph. But it’s HOW this is accomplished that still fascinates horror fans today. We are the killer, or at least, we see through the eyes of the slasher. By Miller writing this element into the screenplay, we are forced to see things from the killer’s perspective in order to relate to and empathize with the killer. Brilliant, really. Although we sometimes assume an objective position just before or during a kill, we spend enough time as the killer’s eyes that we begin to identify with the killer. Not only can we identify with the killer, but because the main characters are teenagers, and slasher horror films are particularly of interest to teens, teenagers can easily relate to the characters in the movie. Essentially, we have a perfect combination of relatability in this film. Audience members are forced, at times, to view characters and events from the killer’s perspective but many in the audience can and will concurrently identify with the main characters. A great way to scare the audience is to place them in a situation that is close enough to reality that the prospect of something similar happening is terrifying.

First appearing in Part II but not fully taking his iconic form until Part III, Jason Voorhees has endured as one of the most recognizable horror villains who still terrifies people today. Furthermore, he has evolved to represent various thematic symbols that provide ample opportunity for analyses and close readings. While Freddy’s motivation is clear–revenge, plain and simple but still solid–Jason’s motivation(s) is a bit more complex. His mother’s motivation is clear; much like Freddy, her motivation is revenge against the camp and those who represent the horny teenagers who allowed her son Jason to drown while “getting it on,” so to speak. Jason, on the other hand, demonstrates motivations that must reach beyond classic revenge. For starters, we cannot ignore his physiological deformities that undoubtedly affected his emotional and psychological health, predisposing him to atypical or abnormal behavior prior to his untimely drowning. Judging from the misty flashbacks in the original Friday the 13th while Mrs. Voorhees is delivering rushed exposition, we can gather from Jason’s shadowed body that he is likely afflicted with hydrocephalus, a condition that traps excess fluid in the cranial cavity that compresses the brain causing a significant loss of neural activity (essentially, born with brain damage). Beyond the internal problems from hydrocephalus, this abnormally developed cranium often causes the eyes to be widely spaced and the subject typically has an enlarged skull.

Now that we have established his cognitive and physiological disabilities, we can explore just how the aforementioned plus the persistent taunting, teasing, and physical abuse from the other campers in 1957 all formed the perfect storm to motivate Jason to be the unstoppable slasher we know today. If we follow the lore of the later films, we are prevued to Jason being forcibly thrown into the lake where he eventually drown while the camp counselors were engaging in the horizontal mamba. There is sufficient evidence from the cannon of Jason films that he likely suffers from schizophrenia. As many of us are aware, this emotionally and cognitively debilitating disease causes sufferers to hallucinate imagery and voices that are controlling their mind. Jason’s ability to communicate with his mother and Mrs. Voorhees’ ability to communicate with her son, is also evidence that the schizophrenia was passed from mother to son. In real life, this disease can be hereditary. So, it is not a far reaching plausible idea to hypothesize that Mrs. Voorhees passed her schizophrenia on to Jason. But unlike mother, Jason suffered from additional disabilities that increased the intensity of the cognitive disease.

Formerly known as multiple personality syndrome, dissociative identity disorder (DID) is another affliction that Jason demonstrates through his abnormal behavior. DID is a severe psychological disorder that fragments an individual’s personality into two or more distinct personalities (or identities) coexisting, switching from one to another. Think of it as two or more people inhabiting the same body. Although one can be predisposed to DID, as Jason likely was, this disorder is often brought on by repetitive childhood trauma (which Jason experienced). Perhaps sometimes “a cigar may only be a cigar” but in this case, a mask is more than a mask. The trademark hockey goalie mask! What is it? It’s a mechanism or tool that enables Jason to disconnect himself from the murders he commits. By wearing the mask, he figuratively dissociates himself from the gruesome murders. The wearing of the mask is a direct result of DID because the mind processes the mask as conduit through which to engage in abnormal behavior because the abnormal behavior cannot be reconciled against the true self. In a sense, the mask allows for active cognitive dissonance because the behavior is opposite of how the brain wants to process information or experiences. This dissociation with the violent behaviors, enables Jason to continue on his murderous campaigns without his conscience ever prompting him to question his choices. Without the mask, he is vulnerable and may even question what he is doing; but with the mask, he is a killing machine.

The setting of Friday the 13th is also something of note. Much like Hitchcock did with the privacy of one’s bathroom in Psycho, Miller set the events of the original at a summer camp in order to shock the mind because it’s an innocent place that is about to play host to something traumatic and uncanny. Kids and teenagers attend sleepaway summer camps every year. They are traditionally seen as places where you form platonic or romantic relationships with your fellow campers or counselors. They are places of innocence that get a violent treatment in this film. Unlike Psycho where we are not prevued to the violent past of the iconic location and thus proceed through the story with our guard down, we are immediately introduced to Camp Crystal Lake’s violent past between the opening scene and the townsfolk. So, we are primed to expect something macabre at the camp. This does one very important thing. The camp immediately possesses an eerie feel, a feeling of dread of what is about to happen. The once popular summer camp falls prey to something sinister that makes the grounds incredibly creepy. Loss of innocence can be read as a theme throughout the films because we have an innocent camp that is plunged into violence, camp counselors losing their virginity, or campers engaging in dangerous behaviors. When innocence is lost, that’s when the violence begins.

Violence and gore are commonplace today (perhaps to the detriment of horror films as it has become cliche), but back in 1980, most audiences were not expecting to see closeups of murderous acts, even after Halloween and Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Despite the cheesy nature of the practical effects with blood bags and prosthetics, the violence in Friday the 13th was unexpected. In many ways, this film revolutionized the genre. But the F13 franchise didn’t start out with overstuffing itself with gore. The body count in the original is the least of the series, but it is certainly the favorite in the series by a moderately wide margin, according to my personal poll and other polls online. Therefore, we have to draw the conclusion that it’s not Jason’s kills or the gore that prompt audiences to like one over the other. If seeing Jason kill people was what audiences were looking for, then the original would not be the favorite. Now, don’t get me wrong, Jason has some pretty awesome kills and he’s fun to watch; however, don’t assume that it’s the kills or violence themselves that make a horror movie a favorite. Interestingly, the original is quite tame compared to the rest, but it’s still regarded as the crowd favorite.

If you follow the horror community on the Twittersphere or Blogosphere or even just caught the story in the news, you’ve likely heard of the fight over the rights to the Friday the 13th name between the original writer Victor Miller and Sean S. Cunningham. As to not complicate this story with the details, the long and short of it is the copyright on the Friday the 13th title is expiring soon, and according to “Mickey’s Law” (an unofficial name for what I am about to describe because it was started by the Walt Disney Company in order to continually retain the rights to Mickey), it is time for the rights to be renegotiated or the name and original plot fall into the public domain. That’s right. This iconic name Friday the 13th is on the verge of belonging to the public. Miller urges that he has the rights to the name because the title along with the story was his original concept. Cunningham argues that Miller’s screenplay was work-for-hire. Under work-for-hire, Cunningham retains the rights and is able to make decisions with it. This is a classic IP lawsuit. But one that has major implications. Essentially, Miller wants to be (and in my opinion, rightly so) compensated for using the names Friday the 13th and Jason in future films and interactive media. While he does not have the rights to Jason’s trademark look, he could own the name itself. This legal battle surfaced after the launch of the recent Friday the 13th video game, and caused the next installment in the long-running franchise to be put on hold. The decision will likely boil down to whether Miller was hired to write the original screenplay or he developed it himself then sold/optioned it to Cunningham.

It’s been 38 years since we were first introduced to Camp Crystal Lake, and the horror landscape was forever changed. Mrs. Voorhees and Jason have been terrifying audiences since before I was born, and will continue to cause you or your kids to think twice about going to summer camp. I think summer camp was made more fun because there is a little piece of you that thinks Jason could be lurking outside your cabin. I don’t always ch, ch, ch but when I do, I always ah, ah, ah.

Happy Friday the 13th!

Ryan is a screenwriting professor at the University of Tampa and works in creative services in live themed entertainment. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog!

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Sinister Summer: Kubrick’s “The Shining” film review

“Here’s Johnny!” Arguably one of the most quoted lines in, not only the horror genre, but in all of cinema! Widely considered one of the greatest horror films of all time, it stands as a testament to what an innovative, pioneering director can do with the genre. Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining based upon the best-selling novel by Stephen King is a cinematic masterpiece that continues to be studied and terrify audiences today. You’ll find TV shows and even movies paying homage to it through clever references to famous scenes in the film. The Shining is an incredible source of inspiration for visual storytelling and the horror genre. Much like Hitchcock radically altered the landscape of suspense and horror, Kubrick is regarded as a director who also dramatically changed filmmaking and broke ground for directing, cinematography, editing, and more! He took the medium of film to new levels that are still studied today. He is infamous for his acute perfectionism that often required dozens of retakes for the same scene, which made him a terror to work with. He was giving his best, so he demanded that you give your best in turn. It’s this approach that has made his films withstand the test of time. Beyond the silver screen, last year Universal Studios Halloween Horror Nights made it possible for you to check into the infamous Overlook to face your fears as you meander the corridors lined with the famous carpet that leads to bloody elevators, terrifying twins, and Jack Torrance wielding his fire axe (although it’s supposed to be a croquet mallet). As part of my Sinister Summer series, this article explores just what makes The Shining such a timeless horror film and example of excellence in the art and science of motion pictures.

With the recent news regarding the casting and upcoming production of the sequel to The Shining titled Doctor Sleep, I thought that an analysis of this iconic film was appropriate! Although the 1997 3-part mini-series was a closer screen interpretation of the novel and took place in the very hotel (The Stanley in Estes Park, CO) that inspired Kubrick to write the terrifying tale, it’s the Kubrick film that continues to be the favorite among cinephiles and horror fans. Furthermore, it’s the film that is a testament to the power of visual storytelling and ability to evoke strong emotion, and is simply more memorable because of the depth and complexity of the film that begs for analysis. As a member of the audience, you are forcibly pulled into the story; you can feel the trauma, tension, and emotion of the characters. While Kubrick’s The Shining is one of the greatest horror films of all time, it is not and should not be thought of one of the scariest movies of all time. For one, Kubrick never stated that The Shining was a scary movie nor did he, through his control of the public relations and marketing material, imply that it was a scary movie. However, he did imply that it was more of a conventional horror film in order to capitalize on the popularity of the genre; but initial responses to the film were not overly positive because some interpreted the publicity as a bait’n switch. It does a lot of things, but “scaring” the audience is not one of them.

As I’ve written before, horror films are not synonymous with scary movies. Are many, if not most, horror films also scary? Yes. But some of the best ones focus more on the drama, themes, and subtext. That focus gives the film depth. And through the drama and cinematography, tension is built, suspense is drawn out, and strategically placed glimpses of visceral horror, nightmare-inducing imagery, and uncanny moments are revealed that generate terror in the mind that evokes a physiological response to the motion picture. Beyond the physiological realm, The Shining also taps into the psychology of the audience as the events unfold through the various traumas on screen. In retrospect, The Shining is a dark, traumatic family drama disguised as a horror film. The action sequences in the film certainly lend themselves to the horror genre, but the family drama paired with the brilliant cinematography and editing is what gives the film critical value. On the surface, it is very much a horror film, but beneath beats the heart of a dark melodrama with terrifying glimpses into psychotic breakdowns and schizophrenic delusions.

The Shining is one of those films that has been and continues to be analyzed to discern the meaning behind the images and writing. In addition to directing, Kubrick also co-wrote the screenplay with Diane Johnson. As one of the writers, he was often asked about the meaning of the various sequences or moment in the film, and in mysterious fashion, he was reluctant to clarify the meaning. Instead, he preferred to leave it up to the individual audience members to decide. If you’ve read the novel, you’ll note that there are many differences between the Kubrick film and book. Most notably the weapon of choice for Jack. A axe in the movie and a croquet mallet in the novel. There are also character traits that were lost in translation. In the book, Wendy is a strong female whereas in the film she is incredibly mousey. And the hotel itself. The hotel described in the novel is clearly The Stanley in Estes Park, CO but it was the Timberline Lodge in Oregon that was used for the exterior shots. Why would Kubrick make these obvious changes? Not limited to The Shining, Kubrick often–in Kubrick fashion–adapted novels to screenplays in a manner that it made them more cinematic and less literary. The film certainly has a literary quality about it, but the changes implemented were in an effort–and successfully so–to make the story more cinematic. One visual way Kubrick adapted the novel in order to make the film memorable was to invert colors from the novel (i.e. yellow VW bug instead of the red one from the novel). Furthermore, he looked at the meaning behind the hotel’s design in the novel, and interpreted the meaning for the screen, not the objects themselves. It’s this cinematic quality that contributes to the masterpiece status of the film.

More than a ghost story in an isolated location, more than haunted magnificent hotel with a sordid, tragic past, The Shining derives its brand of horror through the twisted, dark family drama with a touch of the supernatural. I love how Kubrick uses what may appear to be beautiful imagery and juxtapose it against the macabre. Often there are innocent or majestic images used in the film that are undercut by dark subtext, uncomfortable music, or superimposed on that which removes any positive potential from the sequence. It keeps you from being too comfortable or perhaps it pains your mind. While one may expect a haunted hotel to appear in a more conventional or traditional fashion (gothic, rundown, tired, antiquated), this hotel is brightly lit, well-kept, and modern. But through Kubrick’s brilliant direction, despite the hotel’s outward appearance, it also feels evil from the onset. Frame by frame, Kubrick paints an entire portrait, writes an entire story. Each scene is as though it is a word in a larger paragraph. Much like the scenes in Barry Lyndon are ostensibly taken directly from an oil painting, the shapes, colors, and frames of The Shining communicate through extensively showing that which would have lost critical value if it was told. Show don’t tell (I say to my students all the time). Visually, the film builds tension throughout every moment from the beginning to the end. Because Kubrick exerted extreme perfectionism in direction, cinematography, and editing, one could remove all the dialogue from the film, and it would still play out just as powerfully. But of course, we would lose that famous line as Jack comes crashing through the apartment door.

Some of what Kubrick left out of the novel was due to logistical reasons. Visual FX that would allow for increased ectoplasmic apparitions, menacing hedge animals, and more was still limited. At least, limited to the extent that they did not meet the demands of Kubrick. He exchanged the more traditional horror imagery for something with far more intrinsic value–and thankfully so. Let’s concentrate on the three principle characters for a moment. Just like the Overlook Hotel is one location, one building with many spaces or rooms, we can apply that illustration to the Torrance family. Imagine the Torrance family as one unit, one unit with three different spaces. Perhaps this is a bit of an abstract thought, but the film’s content supports the focus on the central three as abstract spaces within the larger whole more so than the haunts around them. When analyzing the family in such a manner, the viewer can then see how elements of the hotel are extensions of the individual family members. You can read the family like you read the hotel. I also liken The Shining to Edgar Allan Pot’s The Fall of the House of Usher because the Overlook is a direct representation of the psyche of Jack, just like the house in Poe’s story. On one hand, the hotel is exquisite and expansive but on the other, it’s a claustrophobic prison, a grave. It exists on a serene landscape of beautiful snow-capped mountains but it also exists in a state of hell. It’s that identify crisis that mirrors Jack’s duality of mind and behavior. The famous carpet pattern, arrangement of corridors, impossible windows, lonely hallways with skeletons in the closets–or bathtub in this case–are all representative of the bizarre, bewildering mazes of Jacks mind that slowly drive him insane.

Kubrick also plays around with the idea of time, repressed memories, the uncanny through the revealing of that which should have remained hidden or buried. In my article The Psychology of Horror: An Exploration of Freud’s Uncanny through Psycho, I explain that the uncanny is The word uncanny comes from the German word unheimlich, which is literally translated as something unfamiliar. However, that which is unfamiliar is not necessarily uncanny. By the same toke, that which is uncanny is not necessarily completely unfamiliar either. In particular, he was interested in the return of the repressed. And, in this return of the repressed, “other” scenes, to which we do not have direct access, would reveal themselves. It is this revelation that is what Freud terms the uncanny. According to Freud, “unheimlich is the name for everything that ought to have remained…secret and hidden, but has come into the light.” The famous bathroom scene with the ghoulish bathing beauty, the bloody elevator (which Universal achieved so brilliantly at last year’s Halloween Horror Nights), and the twins that beg Danny to play with them forever, these are all repressed memories of the hotel’s past that have come into the present to disrupt the natural order of time, space, and dimension. It’s this disorder that directly impacts the ability for the family to function normally. And therefore contributes to the psychological breakdown of Jack, Wendy, and even Danny. These images and experiences distort reality, causing those of weak minds (Jack) to question everything around them, to behave hostilely in the face of an inability to discern reality from imagination.

Many critics and fans have written that the chief theme of The Shining is an exploration of America and her troubled, violent past. Mainly the massacre and displacement of the natives but can be applied to slavery, the Civil War, and where I’m choosing to go: socioeconomic class. I find that this is an important theme to discuss and may provide further insight into the meanings of the film because we learn that Jack is unemployed but finds himself in the grandest of hotels. Evidence of socioeconomic class can be seen through Jack’s words and behavior. Although he’s issued the title caretaker, he quickly asserts himself as a writer during his interview. How many of us have modified our profession or self image to impress more. It’s out defensive pretense to make ourself appear more successful or more intellectual than we actually are, for fear of what others may think. We are our own caretakers and public relations professionals.

Jack quickly associates the hotel with luxury, but is reminded of his lowly status during the course of his interview. He can temporarily live like the elite, but knows that he is still a working class schlub. Seeing this position at The Overlook as a way to gain prestige, he takes the position. I imagine he took the position so he could say to his friends that he spent the winter at the Overlook in order to write on his novel. During the tour, Wendy often remarks that they’ve never been anywhere like this before, drawing attention to the family’s provincial status. Several times during the film, Wendy urges Jack to resign as caretaker and return to Boulder. He refuses, stating that if he went back, he would be reduced to working menial jobs. The irony is that he is already working a menial job as a caretaker at a shuttered hotel. He exists in a perpetual state of cognitive dissonance, demonstrated an inability to reconcile what his role actually is. Again, we witness the film displaying someone who cannot discern reality from imagination.

And on the topic of the real versus imagined, another theme I’d like to highlight in the film is madness versus possession. We may never truly now if Jack was simply mad or was truly possessed by the spirits in the hotel. In the TV version, it is far easier to surmise that Jack IS possessed by the hotel, not so much in the more artistic film. We know that Jack has a violent history of alcoholism that led to Danny’s arm breaking and that he resents Wendy for refusing to forgive him for the accident. Furthermore, Jack demonstrates anger and resentment for Wendy not fully supporting his aspirations for a writing career. The presence of ghosts and other evils lends support to the possible possession of Jack. He certainly does change during his short tenure as the caretaker. Perhaps it’s a combination. Danny’s ability to shine and Jack’s sensitivity to objects and people who shine creates quite the conundrum. It’s entirely possible that Danny insisting that Jack is possessed drives him mad. There is evidence in the film that Jack may be legitimately schizophrenic because of his visions of Lloyd, the Gold Room bartender and the New Years party guests. But because Wendy eventually sees these same ghosts, that supports the hypothesis that Jack is possessed by the hotel. Does Jack have free will or is he fated to a pre-determined destiny? You be the judge.

That’s what makes the writing and visuals of this film so great! There are many interpretations, and I feel strongly that is what Kubrick wanted. This film causes us to think and discuss. So, I am glad it doesn’t just have one metaphor or meaning. Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining is a masterpiece of a film that deserves all the accolades that it has ever received. The supporting evidence outlined in this article merely touch the surface of the depth and breadth of discussions that can be had about this film. The bar set by the atmosphere of dread in this film is incredibly high, and few films even encroach upon the level of cinematic excellence.

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Sinister Summer: “A Nightmare on Elm Street” (1984) Retrospective Review

Summertime often means sleep away camps, beach trips, road trips, and more. So many horror films take place during the summer and others serve as material for ghost stories around a campfire. This summer, I thought I would have a shortrun series on some of my favorite horror films that I’ve titled Sinister Summer. With the Friday the 13th next month falling on the precise day that the original Friday the 13th movie takes place and it being Jason Voorhees’ birthday, I first thought I would take a look at the original movie. But then I figured, why not do a retrospective on other horror films during June, July, and August? First up on the Sinister Summer series is my favorite slasher series A Nightmare on Elm Street featuring my favorite horror icon Freddy Krueger. Unlike with other slasher icons who hide behind masks and never speak, I consider Freddy to be the most terrifying because he can talk to his victims and attack you in your sleep–a time in which you are most vulnerable. Moreover, dreams are a private time and he invades that sacred scape. Furthermore, we don’t pay much attention to the actor behind other icons such as Jason, Leatherface, and Michael but actor Robert Englund is synonymous with Freddy because we get to appreciate the actor’s performance, charisma, and enthusiasm. Let’s get started.

1, 2 Freddy’s coming for you; 3, 4 better lock your door, 5, 6 grab your crucifix, 7, 8 gonna stay up late, 9, 10 never sleep again. If that jingle still sends chills down your spine, you’re not alone. Writer-director Wes Craven’s nightmare on screen has been terrifying audiences for more than 30yrs and has even had a crossover with Jason Voorhees. Beyond the silver screen, the Nightmare on Elm Street (NoES) franchise has been featured at Universal Studios Halloween Horror Nights, interactive media (video games), and Robert Englund reprised his most famous role in the Halloween episode of The Goldbergs [in October 2018]. Inspired by a series of articles in the LA Times; three small articles about men from Southeast Asia, who were from immigrant families, who died in the middle of nightmares—and the paper never correlated them, never said, ‘Hey, we’ve had another story like this.” From that short series of articles came the franchise that we know and love today. But there is so much more to NoES than the fact it was inspired by truly unexplained deaths during nightmares. I’ve written before that the horror genre is the best genre for creatively exploring the human condition, questioning standards and observations, providing different perspectives on sociologically, exploring psychology, heteronormativity, and more, often in terrifying ways to get you to think, and NoES certainly gives us lots of material to talk about. At its core, NoES provides ample opportunity to discuss the distinction between dreams and real life, manifesting in the actions of the teens in the film; furthermore, the events of the film transgress the boundary between imagination and reality that provocatively toy with the audience’s perceptions of the real and imagined. It’s like an episode of The Twilight Zone on crack.

On the surface, it appears that the only motivation of Freddy’s kills and trauma-inducing actions is revenge–plain and simple. After all, he was burned alive by the parents of the Elm Street teens. And so he takes his revenge out on the teens and occasionally their parents. Albeit revenge is a classic motivator, it lacks substance; however, there is much more to Freddy and the NoES series than revenge. What truly separates classic Freddy from new (remake) Freddy and from Michael and Jason is his sick commitment to showmanship. It’s just about the kills, it’s about putting on a show for his own amusement. Almost exclusively attacking teenagers, Freddy’s attacks on the mind and body can be interpreted as being symbolic of the various and often traumatic experiences encountered by young people. Our central character Nancy is the straight-laced strong-willed teenager that experiences social and sexual anxiety around her peers and parents. Clearly she is someone who has had a strong relationship with her parents–especially her father–but that relationship has become strained due to her parents becoming increasingly disconnected from her through abuse of alcohol, pills, or simply not being present. One could go so far as to assess that the parents serve as opposition to the goal of defeating Freddy and survival.

Way before the proliferation of YA movies today and unlike typical slasher films, Craven makes it a point to place the power of survival into the hands of the teenagers. He then transfers the importance of physiological control to psychological control over the unconscious mind and that which induces fear. The ability to defeat Freddy lies within the mind of Nancy. And of course, Dream Warriors places that power into multiple minds. Originally Wes Craven wanted Nancy’s entire experience to be one big nightmare but New Line Cinema wanted a darker, more macabre ending in order to pave the way for sequels because that is there the money is. Just like John Carpenter desired for Halloween to be ONE film, Craven originally desired for NoES to be one and done. Fortunately for us, both have become hugely successful franchises. However, many agree that the originals (or even extended to the first 2-3 films) are the timeless ones.

Freudian imagery and analogies are in no short supply in NoES. Even more so than in other horror films where sexual content is common, the manner in which it is used in NoES is symbolic of Freudian themes that are manifested in the manner by which Freddy stalks, toys with, and kills his prey. For the most part, the Freudian imagery is shown through a sexual context in threatening and mysterious ways that play with the teens’ perceptions of their reality versus a nightmarish imagination. Each sexual image or action is representative of some type of trauma to the body that is connected to the mind and thus becomes part of the subconscious that impacts thoughts and actions.

The various scenes that take place within the dreams of the teenagers quite possibly represent Craven’s own nightmares or perhaps even your own. Just like you might talk to a therapist about a recurring dream or nightmare in order to interpret the imagery and meaning, Craven may be working through his own dreams on the screen. The dreams and Freudian symbolism are what separate NoES from the likes of Halloween. Strip away the dreams, and you have a slasher who kills teenagers. These dreams give NoES depth, and this dimension is what beckons us to face the uncanny and pleasurable unpleasures of this film. Importantly, cinephiles and horror enthusiasts should note that the dreams never end. Evidence of this occurs at the end of the film. In terms of Freudian terminology, there is sufficient evidence in the film to suggest that Freddy represents the id (the part of the mind in which innate instinctive impulses and primary processes are manifest). He acts impulsively, killing those who are connected to the ones who burned him alive in that boiler room after discovering he was a child killer (although the original script refers to him as a child molester). He feeds off fear and comes to life in dreams, full of revenge. Clearly audiences are witnessing a battle between the id, ego, and superego throughout the events of the movie. Unfortunately, there is no real winner in this battle of the mind and body. But there is a winner in the actor Robert Englund. Arguably, he is the biggest single horror genre star since Vincent Price.

Let’s not forget the comedic components of NoES. Beyond the dreams and thematic depth that sets this film apart from Halloween and Friday the 13th, is the dark comedy. Part of Freddy’s dark comedic charm is the fact that he can talk and toy with his victims in ways that Jason, Leatherface, and Michael cannot. For one simple reason, Freddy is not hidden behind a mask. Freddy has a sense of humor. Strange as it may seem for a slasher, he often integrates humor into his dialogue and actions. This is what makes him fun to watch. The original NoES could be read as the parents being the villains and Freddy being an anti-hero. For all the reasons to be terrified of Freddy, he comes off as a little goofy. As if he just grabbed the first hat, shirt, and pants he saw walking though a rummage sale. His taunting of Tina in the opening scene of the film comes off as taunting, not horrifying. It’s like he’s a cat, toying with his victims because it is way more fun than going in for an immediate kill. Another favorite comedic moment in the movie is when the long, disgusting tongue comes out of the phone when Nancy is talking on it, and Freddy says “I’m your boyfriend now.”

Variety ran a great article on this very subject. Here is what columnist Jason Zinoman stated, “[Freddy] has a weakness for catchphrases (“better not dream and drive”), dopey word play (“feeling tongue tied?,” he asks a victim tied to a bed by tongues) and a predilection for a certain word that makes him sound like a catty teenage girl (“Bon appetit, bitch”; “Welcome to prime time, bitch,” etc). But there’s no denying the star of so many nightmares knows how to deliver a line. He sells his stale material with an admirable professionalism—he’s the Jay Leno of serial killers.”

Looking back at A Nightmare on Elm Street and the legacy it inspired, it is clear that this film and franchise has so much to offer those of us who have been watching for years and those who are beginning to explore the fascinating genre of horror. NoES has it all. Comedy, visceral horror, commentary on the human condition, explorations of the subconscious, and more. It’s this delicate balance of all these elements that bolsters the plot and characters, gives us a horror film of substance. A film that is more than cheap thrills and chills.

Ryan teaches screenwriting at the University of Tampa. If you like this article, please subscribe! Follow Ryan on Twitter @RLTerry1 and Instagram @RL_Terry for more on movies, theme parks, and entertainment news.