History:
A Nightmare on Elm Street is a 1984 American slasher film directed and written by Wes Craven, and the first film of the A Nightmare on Elm Street franchise. The film features John Saxon, Heather Langenkamp, Ronee Blakley, Amanda Wyss, Jsu Garcia, Robert Englund, and Johnny Depp in his feature film debut. Set in the fictional Midwestern town of Springwood, Ohio, the plot revolves around several teenagers who if they fall asleep will be killed by Fred Krueger in their dreams, killing them in reality. They don't know what is going on but the parents hold a dark secret from long ago.

Craven produced A Nightmare on Elm Street on an estimated budget of just $1.8 million, a sum the film earned back during its first week. An instant commercial success, the film's total United States box office gross is $25.5 million. A Nightmare on Elm Street was initially met with relatively mixed critical reviews but went on to make a significant impact on the horror genre, spawning a franchise consisting of a line of sequels, a television series, a remake, and various other works of imitation.

The film is credited with carrying on many clichés found in low-budget horror films of the 1980s and 1990s, originating in John Carpenter's 1978 horror film Halloween, including the morality play that revolves around sexual promiscuity in teenagers resulting in their eventual (usually graphic) death, leading to the term "slasher film". Critics and film historians argue that the film's premise is the question of the distinction between dreams and reality, which is manifested in the film through the teenagers dreams and their realities. Critics today praise the film's ability to transgress "the boundaries between the imaginary and real", toying with audience perceptions.

About the Movie:

For those who know little of the iconic horror franchise launched by Wes Craven in the mid-80s, here are the central hooks: A group of teenagers discover they are sharing a similar nightmare featuring a man with a melted face. Turns out all the kids shared a horrifying truth in childhood, but have since suppressed or eliminated the painful memories.

Their tormentor is named Freddy Krueger. He has scissorhands, but he’s no insular and forlorn cutie looking for a girlfriend, a sense of belonging and genuine affection — even though there is a Johnny Depp connection, thanks to Depp’s ill-fated appearance in the 1984 original.

All Freddy wants to do is stalk, torture and kill his victims in the twilight world of sleep because he has an axe to grind. Turns out the kids’ parents took torches and pitchforks — as well as a can of gasoline — to Krueger’s lair after accusations of abuse started to circulate through the schoolyard.

There are a few primal buttons just waiting to be pressed in this cauldron of Jungian theory.

The first is the idea of powerlessness through sleep. We all need to sleep, and sometimes, we can’t help but nod off — no matter how hard we try to remain conscious. The very idea that drifting off means you’re done for is terrifying because we can’t really stop an autonomic need.

Another key to prompting our fear response is the paranormal aspect. Any villain that isn’t subject to the physical laws of nature slices through our fragile ties to reality.

These two core plot elements explain the longevity and popularity of the franchise, which over time, became increasingly tongue-in-cheek and campy. This remake of the original from music video director Samuel Bayer tries to re-establish the sincerity of the plot, as well as the thespian mettle of the main baddie.

With Jackie Earle Haley donning the prosthetic mask and blade digits, Bayer proves he’s committed to real drama and performance, and he finds the right balance between the hammy genre bits and the more delicate human moments thanks to his solid cast.

David Cassidy’s daughter Katie is surprisingly solid in the role of clever victim, while relative newcomer Rooney Mara feels like a welcome cross between Zooey Deschanel’s sexy quirk and Kristen Stewart’s frenetic complexity.

Great acting makes a world of difference in horror, because like comedy, you have to play it straight to achieve maximum effect. This cast does what it has to do: They make us believe in the unbelievable.

Yet, for all the esthetic and dramatic success, Bayer’s movie just isn’t all that scary. Maybe the bar on horror is so low these days in the wake of Saw and Hostel that unless there’s graphic depiction of limbs being severed, we just can’t muster a fear response.

Then again, maybe it’s overall genre and franchise fatigue. We know Freddy so well by now, he’s almost a friendly face.

Halfway through this great-looking picture, I flashed on The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and the possibility that Nightmare could become a participatory cult smash where people could tap each other on the shoulder with pointy objects at designated points in the reel.

At least it would keep the audience awake.






Tags: nightmare on elm street