Though the world outside has done well to provide an abundance of real life atrocities that remains unmatched by any film or television production company in terms of terror and frequency, the sustained popularity of the horror genre over the past decade is one that continues to thrive, acting as fanciful counter-programming to the continued trauma our daily existence keeps inflicting itself with.

Whether it is divertingly nasty carnage that leans into the genre’s well-established indiscretions of tasteless exploitation with varying degrees of success or lateral-minded morality tales grounded in more tangibly recognisable facets of psychology and behaviour, the sheer amount of product vying for your attention on any given streamer borders on intimidating, and not just on the services specifically designed for avid horror fans either. Between The Walking Dead harkening back to the zombie apocalypse schlockers of the 1970s with its gonzo gore and nihilism or Stranger Things essentially being the kind of project Stephen King might have made at Amblin had he not been so constantly “indisposed”, the former template’s trade in darkly restorative nostalgia bolstered with twenty-first century technical prowess has undoubtedly played a part in the bigger successes lately (see also the recent adaptations of IT), and just so happens to be where the next wannabe genre-event from Netflix comes into view; a multiple-hours long saga of violent, time-hopping derring-do that despite a unique presentation cannot quite overcome a tired sense of informed generica typical of most horror offerings post-Stranger.

MediocriTV, #2 – The Fear Street Trilogy (Netflix/Chernin Entertainment)

Before getting into the nitty-gritty of all this, some context into Street’s production history ought to be made clear. Firstly, despite feeling so much like a Netflix product that it features a couple of Strangers in its cast as well as a director who also happens to be married to one of that show’s creators, this trilogy was not forged into being by the streaming behemoth, but rather began in development at reputable-string-in-Rupert-Murdoch’s-media-empire 20th Century Fox. Based on author R.L. Stine’s wildly successful teen-horror book series of the same name (which is over 150 entries deep, apparently), the original intention was to shoot all three films back-to-back and release each one theatrically one month after the other, an endeavour Fox were behind enough to greenlight and shoot everything accordingly in its attempt to crack the horror market with their own fledgling franchise, priming the trio of slashers for release the following year. Unfortunately, a sinister world-changing development arose in 2020 that threatened Street’s ambitious “release-d’aitre” when that most smilingly-malevolent of conglomerates Disney bought Fox outright along with all of its properties, promptly shelving the fully-completed saga indefinitely, a roadblock further reinforced by all that pesky pandemic business. However, lead producer Peter Chernin was able to sell the distribution rights to Netflix not long thereafter, and Street was soon able to find its way straight into people’s Recommended Viewing suggestions next to the likes of MidSommar and The Vicar Of Dibley (judge not, friends). So, given its own curiously thwarted timeline, is the trilogy itself worth the effort?

Well, that depends; as disposably nasty fluff, Fear Street has a lot going for it, not least in the production values which are certainly a step above what this genre is normally afforded and a game cast of young actors clearly having a blast getting their hands dirty with some violent behaviour. Each of the films being set in a specific time period not only taps into a nifty multi-generational trifecta of nostalgia but also allows the design team to have plenty of fun in distinguishing each instalment with a specific look; Part One is given plenty of washed-out colours and rundown milieu to fit the grungy jadedness of the early ‘90s, whilst Part Two is soaked in over-saturated colours to complement the summer camp setting for the ‘70s, and Part Three (mostly) is given a rustic gothicness of muted greys and darkness punctuated by practical campfires as it reveals the beleaguered town of Shadyside’s cursed origins from all the way back to 1666. And if you are here purely for gore, Street has you covered literally and figuratively with a queasy mix of practical and digital bloodletting, an early highlight being one character’s awful end via a bread slicer that appears to have been designed to shred through loaves of steel given its lethal proficiency (mind you, probably still would not be able to cut through that last tiger bread loaf left in Sainsbury’s at the end of the day though).

And even if most of their time is spent either frantically running away from or stupidly walking into terrifying situations, Fear Street’s cast is one of the most charming ensembles to emerge from the genre in recent years, even when they are at one point asked by a silly Being John Malkovich-style twist to utilise some pretty wobbly Irish accents. Kiana Madeira handles the lead duties capably as lovesick-heroine-turned-ghoul-offing-badass Deena, providing a charismatic through line for the audience to sympathise with in Parts One and Three, whilst Sadie Sink and Emily Rudd do well to make the bickering sisters at the centre of Part Two likeable also. Of the supporting cast of cohorts and villains, standouts include Fred Heichinger’s jovial burnout Simon and especially Ryan Simpkins’ rebellious Alice, the latter giving off a strong Stokely-From-The-Faculty vibe for anyone else who appreciates the single best part of that movie. It undoubtedly helps that for once all of the lead and key supporting characters are given enough motivation and shades of depth to earn at least a kernel of sympathy from the audience here too, deprived of the jocular cynicism and outright hostility most post-Scream horror movie characters seem to be infused with, and novel twists such as the central love story being unreservedly queer along with the themes of societal prejudice and historical revision give the antics an encouragingly woke veneer. However, despite the pockets of enjoyment and sheer endeavour of everything, Fear Street as a whole still falls short of becoming anything truly memorable.

Getting the more superficial quibbles out of the way first, those aforementioned similarities to Stranger Things can become quite distracting. Though it does well to play far more recklessly with its main characters than the Netflix juggernaut does, there is a strong sense of déjà vu in terms of character dynamics and settings, be it Gillian Jacobs’ recluse offering a similar vibe to Winona Ryder’s wiry matriarch, the toxic primordial gloop looking very much like a denizen of the Upside Down, or the fact that the opening kill prologue and the extended finale take place inside a shopping mall. Even when you cast those aspersions aside though and take the trilogy on as little more than typical slasher hokum operating on a mantra of “Because Movie”, it remains odd and even bemusing sometimes how some characters are able to sustain major injuries better than others, including one character managing to navigate through an underground cavern despite suffering a compound fracture on their ankle. Plus, the three movies are called Fear Street, and most of the action here takes place in the woods… which I’m assuming has something to do with R.L. Stine’s manager successfully retaining a credit for the author on the grounds of the original concept being an option on his teen-lit franchise, but it is still worth pointing out.

(And if you thought that was nit-picky, it took all of my editorial power to withhold bringing up the question as to how Deena was able to listen to Garbage‘s mighty “Only Happy When It Rains” a year before its release…)

All of these minor quibbles could have flown under the radar though if the overall tone of the troika of carnage did not take itself half as seriously as it does, especially in the laboured period reveal of Part Three where the divide between Shadyside and its affluent neighbour Sunnyvale was first forged in not so much a surprise twist as more of narrative shrug before the final showdown. Granted, it is nice to have an attempt at higher emotional stakes in these movies for once and its themes of identity versus society offer some moving moments amidst the melee (including a pro-drug edge that doesn’t feel exploitative or judgemental), but putting these scenes directly against those of zombified spree killers resurrected to wreak havoc and each gifted with their own backstory and costume geared towards marketable merchandise to be sold next Halloween, proves too tricky a tonal balance for the films to sustain, especially during the finale’s convergence. Ultimately, the mini-series finds itself in a weird holding pan of both doing too much and too little too satisfy genre-heads or those left wanting by the underlying themes that are never fully explored, settling for a middle plain that offers fleetingly schlocky charms and little else that is either truly scary or arresting.

So is Fear Street worth a watch in its entirety? Yes, it isn’t. Part Two is the closest the saga gets when it comes to meriting a re-watch on the grounds of pure gory nastiness and those infernally-sweet licks of nostalgia for the likes of Friday The 13th and Sleepaway Camp, and there’s enough footage in here for a thoroughly decent fan edit to be constructed, maybe front-loading it with Part Two and segueing into Part One with about half of Part Three done away with? Either way, I’ve already probably thought and written too much about it to be honest; it’s diverting enough for a movie party with friends, but offers little else in terms of diversifying genre formulas that prior examples either embraced or rose above previously, despite an earnestness brought forth by a vivacious cast.

But that’s just my opinion; what did you think? Please leave a comment below and let me know, in the meantime, I’m going to hang out somewhere less stabby, thanks… xxxo