“We’re gonna make a pact, right here and now. We take this to our grave.”
Scream changed things. Teenagers have been the victims in slasher movies since time immemorial, but Scream is the point at which the genre became self-reflexive. It operated in a world where its characters had actually seen horror movies. It spurred a new, almost cerebral approach to an often-maligned subgenre; sadly, the renaissance wouldn’t last long, but it was nice while we had it. I Know What You Did Last Summer is more firmly a B-movie than is Scream, which has its tongue firmly in cheek. Last Summer wants us to yell at the screen. It doesn’t seem intent on actually frightening us (maybe sensibilities just change over time, but I didn’t find this scary at all). Perhaps I’m being overly generous in my assessment, or maybe I’m reading into things because Scream and Last Summer have the same screenwriter, Kevin Williamson. But I think there’s something deeper at play here. Scream had a brain. I Know What You Did Last Summer has a conscience.
The story is well-trod territory at this point. It’s entered the cultural firmament because it’s an expansion of an urban legend. So it would require a deft hand and a novel approach to interest audiences in a story they could probably tell each other from memory. Through Denis Crossan’s striking cinematography, we get a sensory introduction to the town of Southport, North Carolina; Crossan’s steady hand does a nice job of balancing the relative anonymity with which Jim Gillespie directs. There’s a sense of languor, not urgency, which with a surer hand at the helm could be a feature, not a bug. There’s the bones of a slow-boiling southern beachside noir, something like A Simple Plan by way of the Outer Banks. Unfortunately, Last Summer aims for scares when it should aim for squirms. Lots of missed opportunities here.
Julie (Jennifer Love Hewitt), Ray (Freddie Prinze Jr.), Barry (Ryan Phillippe), and Helen (Sarah Michelle Gellar) are believable, to some extent, as a close knit group who do everything together. We meet them as Helen is winning the Miss Croaker pageant; in a nice moment of characterization, Barry stands up, cheering “That’s my girlfriend!” Sure, Julie is pretty bland (and dresses in floor-length skirts like she’s Amish), and Barry can be a caustic prick to anyone outside the core group, but there’s actual chemistry between them. Phillippe and Gellar, in particular, do nice work, and establish a believable rapport that they would build upon later in Cruel Intentions. Barry becomes a bit one-sided as the film progresses, which is a shame, because Phillippe is an actor of extreme intensity, which most often results in him getting cast as a jerk. (Probably why I like him so much in Macgruber, where he’s cast against type as the humorless straight man.)
On their way to a Fourth of July party, the group hits a pedestrian on a twisty mountain road. Freaking out, they decide to dump the body into the ocean, and to never again speak of what they’ve done. In a nice subversion of what could have been a stock “nice guy” character, it’s Ray’s idea to dispose of the corpse. This is an extended scene, one that offers many chances to turn the screws on the characters, such as the arrival of Max (Johnny Galecki), who becomes a potential witness. This is probably the best-acted scene in the film, because all four of these kids allow themselves to be kids. They’re terrified, sick with guilt and unable to grasp the consequences of what they’ve done. None of them take it in stride, which is appreciated. There are no teenage sociopaths here. What they’ve done will destroy their lives in more ways than one. It’s from here that Last Summer makes it clear that it’s a pretty lame horror movie, but an unintentionally compelling and weighty character study.
Maybe I’m being overly generous. It’s not like I Know What You Did Last Summer is a film with any particular reverence attached to it. But I found myself compelled not by the plot, which becomes increasingly muddled as the film progresses, but by its handling of its characters. The movie really wants us to know, and understand, that a year on, these are four profoundly broken people. Julie has gone to college in Boston, far away from Southport. Helen has abandoned her dreams of acting and now works the perfume counter at a department store. Barry has become a drunken recluse. Ray has gone full townie and is working a fishing boat. The couple have split up and no one speaks to each other anymore. They’re only reunited after Julie receives a note simply saying I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER! (The exclamation point is a cheesy touch.)
Last Summer has a strangely low body count, even by the standards of the time. In its reticence to show any kind of gore, it’s out of pace with most slasher movies, and therefore less effective. This film in its entirety is less frightening than the cold open of Scream, for instance. But that bothered me less and less when I stopped thinking of the fishhook-wielding killer as a formidable foe, and started thinking of him as a metaphor. It’s not the most subtle interpretation, sure, but Last Summer works better as a psychological thriller if you view the killer as the main characters’ grief made horribly manifest. It also helps explain why he seems more intent on screwing with their heads than actually killing them. Why trim Helen’s hair and leave a note reading SOON when you could just kill her? The fisherman isn’t a truly memorable or remarkable killer (a lot of the time it seems like he’s winging it, which is actually a nice detail), but if you view him as something other than death, something harder to pin down, then I Know What You Did Last Summer becomes something entirely more interesting.
The plot is not worth delving too deep into. It’s muddled, and at times genuinely confusing. (Not to beat a dead horse, but circuitous plots work just fine in noir, which is what this movie should be.) It goes on detours it can’t justify, and a lot of it feels like Williamson trying to replicate the magic of Scream and its huge roster of likely killers. This should be straightforward, but it veers off course too often to justify the B-movie status it’s looking for. There are some good scenes here, such as a visit to the dead man’s sister, played by Anne Heche. Heche is a terrific actress, and in just one scene she shows why she’s been working as long as she has. Moreover, for Julie this cements the finality of death. The man is no longer just a corpse in a rain slicker. He was a person with a name and a sister.
Overall, this is a strange film. It’s not scary, so don’t go into it expecting that. Maybe I’m thinking about it more than I should, more than it deserves. Or maybe it’s just more clever than people think it is. Whether that was intentional or not, well, that’s anyone’s guess.
10/1: Hellraiser / The Invitation
10/2: Splice / Banshee Chapter
10/3: Jennifer’s Body / Raw
10/4: Dominion: Prequel to The Exorcist / Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2
10/5: Kill List / A Field in England
10/6: Halloween II / Halloween III: Season of the Witch
10/7: A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge / A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors
10/8: Ginger Snaps / Creep
10/9: Cube / Creep 2
10/10: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003) / The Ritual
10/11: Hell House LLC / The Taking of Deborah Logan
10/12: Re-Animator / From Beyond
10/13: Beetlejuice / Sleepy Hollow
10/14: Idle Hands / The Lords of Salem
10/15: The Ring / Noroi: The Curse
10/16: I Know What You Did Last Summer / The Monster
10/17: Night of the Living Dead / Train to Busan
10/18: The Devil’s Backbone / Southbound
10/19: Event Horizon / Dreamcatcher
10/20: The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari / The Bad Seed
10/21: Eyes Without a Face / Goodnight Mommy
10/22: The Strangers / The Strangers: Prey at Night
10/23: In the Mouth of Madness / The Void
10/24: The Amityville Horror / Honeymoon
10/25: Gerald’s Game / Emelie
10/26: The Monster Squad / Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon
10/27: Veronica / Jacob’s Ladder
10/28: High Tension / You’re Next
10/29: The Innkeepers / Bug
10/30: The People Under the Stairs / Vampires
10/31: Saw / Saw II
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