Fear Street began life as a series of novels written by R.L. Stine, the Goosebumps mastermind and Juvenile Fiction equivalent of Stephen King. With the first novel originally published in 1989, Stine would go on to release at least 50 more of this original series, selling millions of copies worldwide. In 2021, Netflix produced a trilogy of Fear Street films directed by Leigh Janiak (who previously helmed 2014’s underrated Honeymoon), each one set in a different decade with teenagers facing unknown horrors in the town of Shadyside. They were not particularly strong films, but they found their audience — particularly during the Covid-invigorated streaming era — and now, four years later, we have the next installment in Fear Street: Prom Queen. Taking the reins from Janiak is Matt Palmer, who shares scripting duties with Donald McLeary. Eschewing another trilogy for a standalone film, Prom Queen benefits from having brevity on its side, and a few incredibly gory kills are showcased. But aside from some enthusiastic performances, the film has very little to offer genre hounds, sold as it is in the muted sheen of Netflix’s characteristically ugly house style.
The year is 1988, and it’s the day of the senior prom at Shadyside High, where the competition for Prom Queen is stiff. In one corner, there’s Lori (India Fowler), a sweet girl whose father was murdered at his own prom, with many suspecting her mother, Rose (Joanne Boland), as the culprit. In the other corner, there’s Tiffany (Fina Strazza), the bitchy popular girl who runs with a wolfpack of friends and boasts the full support of her doting parents, mother Nancy (Katherine Waterston) and father Dan (Chris Klein), with the latter also being a teacher at the high school. Lori’s best friend is Megan (Suzanna Son, stealing the show), a stoner with a penchant for showing off gruesome practical makeup effects via splattery stunts, who across the film comes to increasingly resent her bestie for achieving newfound popularity. When the prom kicks off in earnest, all the seniors roll into the gymnasium for an evening of dance, merriment, and alcohol-spiked punch. However, an unwanted guest has also arrived, in the form of a killer wearing a crimson rain slicker and a gargoyle mask. When this mystery guest begins offing the Prom Queen candidates, Lori must unmask the assailant, lest she becomes the next victim.
Despite only running 80 minutes before credits, Prom Queen eats up a substantial amount of screentime establishing the denizens of Shadyside. The school is governed by meek Principal Wayland (Darrin Baker), who recognizes the town’s violent past as an albatross and hopes to overcome it with a night of celebration, and he’s aided by Vice Principal Dolores (Lili Taylor), a no-nonsense woman who rules with an iron fist. And along with Lori and Tiffany, also vying for the crown are Christy (Ariana Greenblatt), Shadyside’s resident drug dealer, and Melissa (Ella Rubin), a member of Tiffany’s Wolfpack. For a slasher, it certainly makes for a web of names and faces, with Palmer and McLeary hoping to load the film with plenty of potential victims and suspects, extending to the girl’s boyfriends, and even a shady-looking janitor. Also a priority is securing the 1980s atmosphere, which is largely located in a torrent of needle drops, finding Palmer deploying a bevy of notable hits from the decade in order to conjure up the era’s feel, while contributing very little in the way of clothing and hairstyles. In that regard, the digital polish of Netflix’s signature style is a real liability, disrupting any illusion the soundtrack is hoping to attain. (Curiously, the local cinemas of Shadyside are also shown to be playing Phantasm II, a film that was actually released in July of 1988 and would therefore not be able to coincide with the date of a high school prom… but we digress.)
When the prom commences, so does the red-coated killer’s reign of terror, hacking and slashing their way through scores of unsuspecting teens. Palmer revels in the bodily harm, as one poor victim gets a buzzsaw to the face, while another has their hands forcibly amputated by a paper cutter, mandating that they attempt to manipulate a doorknob with bloody stumps before they are at last finished off by the killer. In fact, limbs are often quite effortlessly separated from bodies throughout the feature, calling into question just how supernaturally strong the killer really is. Perhaps that technicality is besides the point, and it’s all well and splattery otherwise, but the bigger problem is that none of it is particularly scary, with Palmer aiming for a more darkly comedic tone. Performances, meanwhile, run the gamut from dismal to enthusiastic, though Son is the only one who leaves a lasting impression, making one wish that Megan was instead the star of the film rather than relegated to sidekick duties. (In one of the film’s few clever touches, a severed head in the punch bowl is pretty quickly disregarded as another one of her Halloween makeup pranks.) Anyone signing up for Fear Street: Prom Queen to see some bodies get exquisitely maimed likely won’t be disappointed, but it might be hard to feel truly satisfied when the film offers so little else to chew on.
DIRECTOR: Matt Palmer; CAST: Ariana Greenblatt, Ella Rubin, India Fowler, Fina Strazza; DISTRIBUTOR: Netflix; STREAMING: May 23; RUNTIME: 1 hr. 28 min.
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