FEAR STREET: PROM QUEEN (2025)

Studio:   Netflix
Director: Matt Palmer
Writer:   Matt Palmer, Donald McLeary
Producer: Peter Chernin, Jenno Topping, Kori Adelson
Stars:    India Fowler, Suzanna Son, Finna Strazza, Chris Klein, David Iacono, Ella Rubin, Ariana Greenblatt, Lili Taylor, Katherine Waterston, Darrin Baker, Rebecca Ablack

Review Score:


Summary:

Shadyside High School’s 1988 prom becomes a bloodbath when a masked murderer begins butchering girls competing to be crowned queen.


Synopsis:     

Review:

The peak of R.L. Stine’s popularity as a tastemaker of tween terror came after I’d already aged out of the target demographic for his books. I remember being envious of his fans, though. I’d see the intriguingly illustrated “Goosebumps” covers at bookstores, or occasionally catch some of the TV show on a random Saturday morning, and realize how much of an easy mark I would have been for those series if my mind wasn’t preoccupied by the stress of work, bills, and other aspects of “adulting.”

I’m also probably past the intended demo for the Netflix film “Fear Street: Prom Queen,” adapted from one of the novels in Stine’s same-named line. Hell, I’m old enough to remember actor Chris Klein for playing a high-school teen in “American Pie.” Now here he is playing a high-school teacher with graying temples in his receding hairline, and raising a teenage daughter to boot, in “Fear Street: Prom Queen.”

I mention these things because maybe you saw my 65/100 review score and thought that was too low or too high, likely the latter if you’re a hardcore horror fanatic who didn’t take to the routine teen slasher’s spirited tone. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure how to objectively approach “Fear Street: Prom Queen” because it’s tough to tell exactly who the movie is meant for. I’ll elaborate shortly. In the meantime, I felt it best to err on the side of going easy on criticisms, since it looks like the film aims at an audience as young as the pre-college set depicted onscreen. With leopards being unable to change their spots, it seems silly for older eyes to stingily dock points for “Fear Street: Prom Queen” being the flighty fright flick its DNA genetically engineers it to be.

“Fear Street: Prom Queen” maintains a fast-on-its-feet pace by packing a ton of typical teenage trials, tribulations, and terrors into a tight 80 minutes accented by The Newton Brothers’ persistently energetic score. Credits cite a whopping 35 characters, all of whom are crafted from cliches, though that’s the expected par for this course whenever one hits the links on a green of R.L. Stine teen screams.

It's 1988 at Shadyside High School, and the competition to crown the queen of the upcoming prom is getting fierce. Tiffany leads the ladder. She’s the self-absorbed mean girl whose posse of sycophant socialites includes model student Linda, subservient lapdog Melissa, and gabby gossiper Debbie, collectively known as “The Wolf Pack.” Rebellious outsider Christy’s edgy reputation for dealing weed and flipping off authority makes her Tiffany’s top rival. Then there’s the true dark horse candidate, Lori, whose social outcast status comes from the longstanding rumor that her mother murdered her father back when they attended the same school together.

Two days before the big event, the herd starts thinning after a masked murderer in a red poncho perforates one of the girls with an ax. Butcherings get bloodier 48 hours later. That’s when the unknown killer takes his blades to Shadyside to continue hacking through the class of ’88 in earnest. Suddenly, everyday issues like Lori’s mutual crush on Tiffany’s jock boyfriend Tyler, and a rift with Lori’s misfit stoner friend Megan, don’t seem as important as surviving the slaughter. But who is behind the mask, and why do they want potential prom queens dead?

The answer to the first part of that question is easier to guess than the second half, particularly if you have a hang-up with “The Tony Danza Principle” like I do. (Look it up in past reviews if you aren’t sure what I’m talking about, but be warned that knowing what the term means constitutes a spoiler.) The movie itself provides so few clues that the mystery of the killer’s identity and motive barely has time to take a three-dimensional shape. The 35 characters referenced earlier include possible suspects like a shifty janitor, the devoutly religious vice principal and her brainwashed son, and assorted classmates, yet all of these red herrings swim by so fast, they never even nibble on the line.

Gnarly carnage gives the movie more gusto than the hollow whodunit does. Deaths don’t drop jaws with their creativity, but they are appropriately stylish, vicious, and tinged with a touch of fun befitting the film’s candy-colored vibe. Considering what matters most in a movie of this caliber, “Fear Street: Prom Queen” concentrates on coming up with copious kills to keep its audience entertained, even if the personalities getting cut down are shallower than a sidewalk puddle.

The reveal would have worked better if it wasn’t preceded by a major giveaway. During a bathroom confrontation between the killer and a victim right after Lori and Tiffany’s impromptu dance battle, “Fear Street: Prom Queen” hands out a key piece of information no one in the movie has, which makes the subsequent series of events play awkwardly given what we now know. My hunch says director Matt Palmer and his co-writer Donald McLeary did it this way because they knew the first reveal at the prom would be unsatisfying as an explanation for the killer’s actions, so they planted a seed as a promise of more to come.

Getting back to the other mystery, who is this movie meant for? Do veteran viewers need another throwback slasher set at a school dance? No, which is why I forgive the film for its predictability and focus on slickness since on the surface it seems specifically suited for the high-school set.

Then again, will teens actually take to it anyway? It always seems strange to me that a nostalgia-heavy period project like “Fear Street: Prom Queen” would expect its 1988 setting to appeal to people born in the 21st century. Do they even recognize needle drops like Laura Branigan’s “Gloria,” or appreciate songs by Judas Priest and Bananarama? Maybe they don’t even like body-dropping horror that whizzes by in the blink of an eye, in which case my favorable score might really be way off the mark.

NOTE: There is a mid-credits scene.

Review Score: 65