Netflix’s adaptations of R.L Stine’s (author of Goosebumps, as if you didn’t know) Fear Street books spanning three generations of a deeply divided towns gory history was a surprising success, proving that we will never be tired of teen slasher movies when they are made with that kind of love and attention. The newest, and first standalone (so far) effort, Prom Queen achieves the exact opposite: as soulless and by-the-numbers a slasher as you could possibly get.
The bloody (though not bloody enough for my taste) shenanigans this time are based around the Shadyside High election of the 1988 Prom Queen (you know it’s 1988 thanks mostly to the hairstyles and the Now That’s What I Call Eighties cassette tape someone in the production found in the basement). If Prom Queen is successful at anything, it is as an a concrete reason to abandon this decade as a setting for at least five years. We have our five hopefuls for the crown that never come across as anything other than their tropes: the Bad Girl, the Queen Bitch, her bitter second-in-command, Queen Bitch’s yes-woman, and the good pure soul with the dark past that doesn’t realise that her best friend is probably in love with her.
These are all good jumping-off points, but instead Prom Queen uses them as fully-fledged finished arcs, throwing them to their doom with little characterisation. There are bright sparks: Katherine Waterson is too good for her role as Queen Bitch’s even bitchier mother, and Suzanna Son as the possible gay best friend actually has a conflict to sink her meat cleaver into, not to mention Lilli Taylor classing up the joint as a purity obsessed principal. It is just a shame that the movie spend only a fleeting amount of time with them, focused instead on dragging itself through clunky tropes and “hey! It’s the eighties!” posturing.
The gore might be the most disappointing part of Prom Queen, and I only have Eli Roth to blame. While I hate most of his movies, he has made the best teen slasher of the last few years with Thanksgiving, as funny as it is bloody. Prom Queen is seriously lacking stakes and thrills, especially since the identity of the killer couldn’t be more obvious.
Despite my disappointment, I’ll throw director Matt Palmer a bone. I highly recommend his first feature: the slow motion car crash that us Calibre starring Slow Horses’ Jack Lowden. It not only proves he is a great talent, it also makes clear that he was the wrong person for this franchise, and I can only hope Fear Street gets itself back on track with a more suitable director for the next film.
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By Kevin Boyle
No But Listen 