When word broke that MTV and Dimension were teaming to bring “Scream” to the small screen, enough venom spewed forth in website comments sections, based on nothing more than a single sentence of news, to make one think Rob Zombie was adapting the series for Platinum Dunes and turning it into “found footage.” Congratulations, “Scream!” With nearly 20 years having passed between your first movie’s premiere and your eponymous television show’s debut, you’ve now existed long enough to be as polarizing of a franchise as “Star Wars,” “Star Trek,” “Halloween,” or (insert idolized video game/film series/TV program here).
There comes a point in every popular property’s life cycle when success and regard reach wide enough that fans feel a need to take self-appointed stewardship over the IP. They and only they know the proper creative course a series can take, like an armchair quarterback insisting s/he knows better than coach what routes to call and which athletes to draft. Deviate from that imaginary playbook and face the fury of internet ire like only a hateful fanboy whip can lash.
“Why couldn’t they make it its own separate thing? The legacy is tainted!” “Where is Sidney Prescott? It should be the same continuity as the movies!” “Wes Craven isn’t directing? Then it’s going to suck!” “What do you mean they changed the mask?” Before jumping to conclusions regarding what “Scream: The TV Series” can, can’t, will, or won’t be, take a brief break from fostering preconceptions sight unseen and keep in mind how much crow was choked down by early naysayers who crapped on the casting of Heath Ledger as The Joker.
Who prefers a slavish retelling anyway? That’s what “From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series” did and its first season plays like a 10-hour extended cut of a 90-minute film we’d already seen.
Since age and affinity for the franchise are apparently relevant in ascertaining alignment with a “Scream” reviewer’s opinion, I’ll offer that I was 21 years old when the first film bowed on the big screen in 1996. I enjoyed the features well enough, and certainly appreciate the influence they had on genre reinvention. However, I wouldn’t rate “Scream” at the top of any personal favorite franchise list that includes “Halloween,” “Phantasm,” Romero’s “Living Dead,” or even “Child’s Play.” I was raised on “Friday the 13th” and “A Nightmare on Elm Street” while audiences reared on 90s horror may have a touchstone passion for “Scream” I don’t possess. Feel free to consider my viewpoint as coming from a casual fan who wouldn’t see sacrilege in anything the television version wants to reimagine, redo, recreate, or remake.
We’re not in Woodsboro anymore. This is Lakewood, a similarly sleepy city in a somewhat macabre cul-de-sac existing somewhere between Dawson’s Creek and Degrassi by way of Twin Peaks. Being a TV town, Lakewood’s George Washington High School is predictably populated by impossibly hot and handsome students, dealing with the usual TV teen troubles of publicly posted shaming videos, bullying, boozing, and the prêt-a-porter character wedge of sleeping with someone else’s boyfriend.
This is also “Scream,” and pilot episode “Red Roses” feels very much in that same vein of self-aware sensibilities that made the movies notable for their meta winks and pop culture nods. That means a script in the know about how many stereotypes are purposefully in play for pastiche of both passé horror clichés and teen soap tropes. Darkly comedic is close to qualifying as a partial classification for “Scream: The TV Series,” although snarkily sly is a more accurate descriptor. This is dialogue, setup, and story proudly presenting itself as trendy and appealing for a tech-savvy MTV set, and it caters to new generation audiences with contemporary entertainment tastes.
Don’t be hasty in passing “Scream” off as a simple CW-style series with a basic cable edge, though. Tipping its cap to origin stories of horror movies past, the urban legend in Lakewood is that deformed teenager Brandon James went on a murder spree two decades earlier, and despite being repeatedly shot into a watery grave, a newly initiated slaughter streak has Brandon pegged as a possible suspect. It’s a slick slasher backdrop founding a larger arc in the background while typical travails of tart-tongued teenagers take up the fore. Or as typical as things can be in a town where severed heads land in swimming pools, and those pools are chummed with red herrings.
(Speaking of red herrings, smart money says to remember seemingly throwaway names like Emma’s father Kevin and Brandon’s older brother Troy, both quickly mentioned in casual conversation but likely playing important roles later.)
If high school-set melodrama with a smirking streak of murderous madness isn’t your style, then that is a more rational reason to be indifferent to or uninterested in “Scream: The TV Series” than an artificial change to a previous prop. To weigh in on an already useless debate, I always found the films’ Ghostface mask cheap and cartoonish. That its Tex Avery elongation could inspire terror instead of laughter is a notion over my head. While scuttlebutt claims the design was altered to avoid a royalty fee, a new origin is introduced for the mask that makes contextual sense for the story while offering an updated look. I say good riddance to the previous mask. Put the two Ghostfaces side by side in a dark alleyway and tell me if the new version wouldn’t put more color in your shorts.
As a standalone story, “Red Roses” doesn’t fully satisfy. After a double homicide opener, the episode settles into exposition before climaxing on a conclusion that is more ambiguous pause than clear-cut cliffhanger. There’s also the matter of a robust roster of characters coming and going faster than impressions can register, although this is likely a necessary evil in a slasher series requiring bodies for future kill counts. There is clemency for these sins seeing as how only so much can be accomplished in 44 minutes and this initial installment has the greater task of establishing a season-sustaining macro-mystery. In that regard, “Red Roses” works as an intriguing introduction to the episodic incarnation of an iconic film franchise.
Slightly sexy and cheerfully cheeky, the first hour of “Scream” showcases enough of the series’ personality and planned direction for viewers to make an informed decision firsthand as to whether or not another nine episodes is worth the personal investment. The TV show might still tie into the film world’s fiction. Or maybe it never will. Either way, just don’t let impossible standards build a hurdle the series cannot jump. Especially when we are only one episode deep.
"Renfield" handles chaotic fight scenes and domestic drama with much more panache than it handles the hammy humor and formulaic plot points.