(Wes Craven, 1984)
(essay by Robert)
1984’s A Nightmare on Elm Street is a film that explodes beyond its slasher framework by transgressing the boundaries of reality and imaginary. The film makes no apologies for its preponderance of blood and abruptly challenges us to look hard at the psychological and sociological burdens of the characters. Craven created a film that is so violent that the true concepts can be lost. The real genius of the film is in the undertones of his commentary combined with the gripping dream imagery.
The dream motif and the concept of capturing the feeling and obscurity of dreams/nightmares was by no means original. It was Craven’s seamless connection between the dreamworld and real life that hit home: he does this both literally and figuratively. The dream/reality transitions in the film are subtle and are a wonderful horror mechanism. More symbolically, Craven built a relatively complex story-line going back decades to insert a very tangible and somehow believable link between the dreams being experienced and real “awake” events (most importantly death). Nightmares are a universal yet personal experience. Somehow, regardless of how silly they seem in the day-light, they are startling and trigger real fear. There is security in knowing that all we have to do is wake-up and the door is closed on the dream. The idea that this door does not lock and that somehow someone, other than ourselves, can penetrate and control both our dreams and reality is an amazingly chilling notion that touches at the most vulnerable place. This element undoubtedly is what makes the film so intriguing and relatable.
In the early 1980’s, America was in the middle of a perfect storm of surging conservatism, growing sense of invulnerability, and widening economic divide which fueled the film’s concepts. Craven wanted to create a film that exploited all of these. This is under-evaluated in most discussions of the film. Craven’s use of sleep and dreams were the perfect instrument for commenting on consciousness and awareness. In traditional slasher form, he uses a cast of beautiful teens to carry out the battle. Entrapped in safe and secure suburbia, the group, led by heroine Nancy (Heather Langenkamp), is fighting; above and beyond Freddy; the past sins of their parents, the turbulent transition from adolescence to adulthood, as well as the typical horror explorations of sexuality.
Craven is relentless in his accusations against the elder generation. They set in motion not only their children’s horrific face-off against Krueger but more importantly the unwinnable war against the real world created by their decisions. Without the parents, there is no story. Most of the face time goes to the high-schoolers but the guilt and burden of the elder generation (including John Saxson and Ronnie Blakely) is glaring against the trite suburban background and cannot be overstated. Notice that every character’s parents are either separated (Tina and Nancy), completely non-existent (Rod), or blindly aloof (Glen). This certainly is no coincidence and is particularly interesting when we learn Freddy’s back story (he had been burned alive by the parents). As Freddy stalks each of them, their parents either miss all clues, deny any responsibility or blatantly try to hide the truth. Their temporary and violent solution from years prior has come back to pay vengeance on their children in their nightmares. This theme is continued throughout the sequels.
On screen, Craven delivers an astonishing experience that stands up incredibly well today. The unforgettable and unique dream/death sequences make use of special effect after special effect and yet do not grow tiring. The very low budget invoked a brilliant level of creativity to pull together the essential visuals of the scenes. Perhaps the most explosive (and important) is Tina’s death dream- One of my absolute favorite horror scenes of all time and maybe the most memorable death sequence of the 80’s. The scene ends with Tina (Amanda Wyss) fighting with Freddy under bed sheets (one of the many thoughtful dream/reality transitions) then, by invisible force, she is slashed, flung through the air, dragged across the ceiling and finally callously dropped lifeless. This brutal depiction happens before the eyes of her boyfriend (Jsu Garcia/Nick Corri) and declares both to him and the audience that something beyond belief is unfolding. Other scenes throughout the film, including a very effective wall-impression of a hovering dream menace, the famous bathtub shots, and the classic final moments of Glen (Johnny Depp) are horror staples.
Also essential to the reverie-like atmosphere are sound, setting and lighting. The screeches of Freddy’s claws are one of the very few examples in history of non-musical sound being so distinctly associated with a film. The musical score (Charles Bernstein) is a strong fit and follows the trend of the time. There is also the nursery-rime chorus that helps build the loitering backstory. The most memorable of the settings is the boiler-room dream lair – what a perfectly daunting and appropriate house for this maniac. The structural identities of pipes and metal walkways along with the complimentary flames and steam bursts create apt commotions and allow Freddy plenty of crevices and corners to hide. The dark and shadowy in-dream lighting is vital to the sense of helplessness but Craven and his team also did a fantastic job of utilizing a type of day-time haze to further confuse the transitions.
Freddy (Robert Englund) is unforgettable and unmistakable. Possibly the single most recognizable modern horror villain (of course this is debatable), he represents everything scary. His turn-away disfigurement, his deadly and primitive weapon, his dream-world invincibility, even his boiler room dwelling and dirty raggedness are unsettling. His human history of a child killer/molester is a lingering macabre detail that trumps any all of these. Tying closely to his slasher predecessors, his scars and burns creates a sort of pseudo-mask that further exemplifies the consistent contrast of make-believe and reality. Freddy, as the villain, also has a certain bizarre humor that wonderfully points to that strange eeriness and perplexity of dreams.
It is easy to jumble the original with the swarms of sequels that followed. These films have their moments (some good ones…some very bad ones) but it is unfortunate that the brilliancy of the first is at least partially dulled by the subsequent series and recent remake (which maddeningly misses the point). This is also magnified by the pop-cultural endearment of Freddy particularly amongst children (so very ironic considering Freddy’s backstory). The series as a whole is another discussion. Putting these aside, Wes Craven got it right in 1984. The original Nightmare is one of the exclusive horror films of all time and has a rightful place amongst the genre’s finest efforts.
(this film appeared on Robert’s list at #1, Kevin’s at #18, and Troy’s at #50)
I wasn’t the fan you are Robert, but I appreciate the excellent review, especially the discussion on Craven’s awareness of 1980’s life in America.
I am also not a big fan of this film Peter, yet I hear Robert, Jaime and others who find it a defining horror. My wife Lucille and my kids are big fans, and I know full well of it’s adoration and reputation among genre fans. Robert has written his defining essay here, as well it should be!
I did not expect this.
I love the movie, and the lack of it in the countdown made me think this wasn’t going to be in it. Silly me, of course! We have Robert! He’s a real treasure as he puts this movie as his number 1 horror of all time, and I nod at his choice with a lot of agreement.
It’s essentialy the most visually impressive horror film of the 80’s (and The Evil Dead is one of my favorite movies of all time), smartly constructed and well made. It’s a masterpiece and everyone has to love Freddy, is a character that has become a likeable asset in modern american culture.
It’s good that you mention the sound design, extremely chilling, and the score, just perfect, now copied and copied, so now just feels like a common thing in horror movies, but when you see it here, you feel that it belongs and you feel chills down your spine.
Besides the scenes you mention, I love when Freddy in one of the first scenes cuts his own fingers, that’s how you present a character with one action and you know who he is and the kind of things he is capable of doing.
First, he’s a supernatural being, second, he only wants to scare you, third, he doesn’t really care if he can catch you, he will eventually, fourth, he’s got big claws, you’ll die… horribly.
Anyone who’s a fan of this film and series must see “Never Sleep Again”, a 4 hour documentary on the whole series and its cultural reactions with a ton of interviews. It’s easily one of the best movies of the year.
This is surprising…I agree that the merits of the original are often discredited by the sequels (and that god awful remake). If you look at Wes Craven’s NEW NIGHTMARE, you realize he really was trying to tap into something there (which was explored later in SCREAM as well to more populist effect). He sure knew how to push the buttons of Reagan-Era teens (and later their — younger Clinton-Era cousins? — with SCREAM). I never thought he was that good of a visual artist though…but this essay makes some good points.
This was always a fun film for me…but, lord, it would never touch the likes of say THE SHINING or NOSFERATU or VAMPYR or…well, you get the idea.
I recall that when “Freddy Vs. Jason” came out, there was frequently a point made that struck with me, saying that not only was it appropriate to see these two cinematic boogeymen confront one another as literal nightmare visions incarnate (would it really be so odd to see the two of them duke it out in a dream?), but also that their pairing was perfect, as they very much represent each other’s opposite. Even though he slaughters teenagers left and right, Jason can be something of an object of sympathy– he was, after all, just a challenged child when he died, and only drowned because the “adults” in his life weren’t doing their duty to pay attention to him. The teens in the “Friday” movies are a lot less sympathetic than those in the “Nightmare” films– in the former we watch mostly to see what kind of gruesome gory kills Jason can invent for the spoiled, over-sexed victims, while in the latter we’re more or less genuinely invested in seeing whether or not they can survive Freddy.
Jason is a child, and Freddy is a child-molester. It’s easy to have sympathy for the former, and nothing but scorn and hatred for the latter. This is why so many of the “Nightmare” sequels rub me the wrong way, turning Freddy into an object of comedy. Still, I found it interesting how in FvJ we’re pretty much encouraged to root for Jason– interesting how no matter what cinematic monsters are conjured, the big guy with a mask becomes an easier sympathetic figure for us than the shrivelled, bent old guy who laughs a lot.
I enjoyed your discussion of the films socio-historical implications, which had not occurred to me, at least not in this detailed fashion. Creative as some of the death scenes are, part of me wished that the bloody deaths had occurred in dreams, with nothing overtly supernatural happening in “waking” life; in a way, this would have made the concept all the more terrifying and heightened the divide between the safety of waking life and the (inevitable) dangers of dipping back into one’s subconscious. But I suppose that would have been a different movie altogether…
One of the things I like about the film– with all the overlap of dreams, hallucinations and reality, how can we be sure those “supernatural” deaths really occured in waking states at all?
A well written review for a film that neither deserves such a review nor such a high placement.
The concept (murderer kills victims in their dreams) is a neat idea that makes way for Craven to find new ideas in how to blood-let and the once the concept is introduced it’s all down hill from there.
Poorly acted, horribly written and overly repetitive, this is not a surprise at this high of a placement, but a big shock.
As far as this being the most visually stunning of the horror films of the 80’s, I say look again. With THE SHINING (and BLUE VELVET if you wanna consider that horror) in the mix, the statement seems a little muted.
Nonetheless, Robert evokes a true passion for this film and the essay, as always, is well written and makes its case…