I would be writing a review of this film based on this Thursday's screening of the film, but I really have to go to see Russ Meyer presenting his FASTER PUSSYCAT KILL KILL with Go Go Dancers and Melissa Mounds to boot at the Alamo Drafthouse. So... Well, here's what a fella by the name of BONGO had to say. Hey. BONGO KNOWS man, BONGO KNOWS!!!
Seeing as the makers of "I Still Know What You Did Last Summer" are obviously trying to get some good buzz going with the filmgoing youth of America, I was able to catch a free screening of that flick at my university (the second of its kind in almost as many weeks) tonight. Your other reviewer seemed to nail the movie and I give a strong "amen" to the loveliness of Ms. Hewitt's cleavage. If this sort of thing matters to the geeks (heh heh heh), they will not be disappointed. Even at roughly $3.50 per breast, it will be money well spent. They are both the real stars of the film, and there is even greater depth and dimension to their performance than in the original. One can only dream of how the bar will be raised in the inevitable sequel to this sequel. I am only thankful that I was able to see it for free, so that I could concentrate on this positive rather than the greater negatives of the film as a whole. Overall, it was one of those sequels where if you disliked the original, you'll hate this. Frankly, I'm getting sick of the neo-horror genre. The joke has worn thin, and now we are starting to see this type of film take itself seriously and demonstrate in a deadpan manner the conventions it once lampooned. The Craven/Williamson coda to the Scream trilogy might possibly inject some new piss and vinegar, but maybe it's for the best if this neo-horror filmmaking dies and we all just go back to watching our old "Halloween" and "Nightmare on Elm Street" beta tapes. Not to say that "ISKWYDLS" even qualifies as a horrible movie. Maybe that's part of its problem. It seems content to wallow in a purgatory stuck between fine, epic horror and absolute schlock. Unlike the recent "Urban Legend," there's no camp factor for one to just sit back and laugh at what the screenwriters will come up with next out of their bag of tricks. It's a very by-the-numbers affair with the requisite jump-in-your-seat-at-the-most-irrelevant-shit-the filmmakers-could-throw-at-you type of thrills. Hewitt, aside from her two spectacular co-stars, is actually quite a good little actress, though if she feels like going the Jamie Lee route, she should look for a horror franchise that doesn't have the Gorton's fisherman as its Freddy Krueger (a tired joke, I know, but I had to bring it up one more time). I went into the movie wanting to dislike Brandy's character, but the diva prodigy did a good job in keeping the annoyance factor to a minimum. Mekhi Phifer, probably the best actor of the bunch considering the cred he's built up with movies like "Clockers," is severely underused. Freddie Prinze, Jr., through no fault of his own, looks like he had scenes he shot for another movie spliced in; his existence seems to be justified only by the fact that the filmmakers wanted as many links to the first production as possible to remain (he being about the only one, along with the Man With the Hook, after Sarah Michelle Gellar and Ryan Phillipe were offed in the preceding film), especially with Williamson jumping ship. The "twist" that has been oft-mentioned in other reviews is predictably serendipitous, but I could reconcile it better than the one in Scream 2 (though in that film it was played, in part, as both a joke and homage - the killer/killers in the sequel always is/are more ludricrous. In this one, though, as with all the other horror conventions that are thrown at the audience, it is played straightfaced). The door is left wide open for a sequel, and the killer (pardon the pun) B.O. I expect this to get should facilitate that. The fact that there are two African-American leads may go a long way in actually boosting the financial prospects of this film over the original. Cinematically, though, ISKWYDLS has put its genre one step closer to the grave. This is the type of mediocrity Hallenbeck should be spewing expletives and waxing poetic over.
Overall: 6 out of 10 (with Hewitt boosting the score a generous point)
Bongo
