Scream 7 arrives mired in controversy, thanks to its decision to ditch the narrative arc set up by its predecessors—a course correction spurred by the firing of Melissa Barrera and the subsequent departure of co-lead Jenna Ortega and director Christopher Landon.
Yet from any rational perspective, that’s a tempest in a teapot, since Scream (5) and Scream VI were dreadful sequels whose lack of resourcefulness and thrills made them the franchise’s lamest installments and further sullied Wes Craven and Kevin Williamson’s once-clever meta riff on the slasher genre.
Taking things in a new direction is thus, in theory, as likely to revitalize the horror series as hewing to its recent (awful) path. Alas, resorting to nostalgia is hardly an inspired way to go, and Scream 7 (Feb. 27, in theaters) goes that way with such gusto that it underscores the lengths to which studios will mine IPs even after every last drop of creativity has been squeezed from their formula.
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