Scream (1985)
Maybe I'm just too dense to get it and Scream is a subtle masterpiece about something-who knows what-but my guess is that it just sucks.
First off, no, it isn't that Scream, in case you ended up here by mistake. This film, rather than spawning sequels and kickstarting quite a few careers, was made by a then and now unknown producer, director and writer (using those terms liberally) Byron Quisenberry, and seems to have killed quite a few careers. Certainly, that fact is much more horrific than anything you're likely to see on your television screen while watching this mess.
Scream was made to cash in on the slasher craze, especially Friday the 13th and its offspring (like The Burning). A group of rafters head down the Rio Grande to a small ghost town where they plan to spend a relaxing weekend camping. But almost as soon as they arrive and night falls, they start dropping like flies-apparently a psycho is attacking them one by one. There are suspicions that one of the campers is the culprit, but various events rule that out.
It's not a plot that's going to offer profound philosophical insights into life, but in the right hands, it could be serviceable. I strongly believe that great films come from great crews and casts. If you have the right people involved, any story can end up being a masterpiece, even something with a dubious script.
Scream certainly does not have a great cast and crew. There are hints of competence, and the film is actually promising for at least the first five minutes. The cinematography is more than passable (and tellingly, cinematographer Richard Pepin is one of the few people involved with Scream to continue a film career) and Quisenberry does one interesting thing that worked very well, namely, that a lot of the exposition and backstory in the first few minutes is told through disembodied, layered dialogue uttered as asides between characters as they ascend the hill leading to the ghost town.
There are a few more facets that explain my granting Scream a 3.5 rather than a lower score. I may as well get them out of the way now. The principle one is the introduction, late in the story far after we've lost all hope of it not sucking, of a ghost character who may just as well be an embodiment of death. He comes riding up to the ghost town, lead by a black dog, on two black horses. A corpse is tied to one of the horses-it's one of the crew who headed out on motorcycles (more on the motorcycles later) to look for help. The ghost is a great character, played well by whoever the actor was, and well costumed. His scenes almost approach that vaulted adjective of "atmospheric." But it's too little and far too late. Other positives are parts of the score, especially the music that accompanies the arrival of the ghost (it's in the same key as a cowbell tied to one of his horses and uses this ambient sound as a part of the musical composition), and occasionally there are hints at directorial competence in the filming of the weapons used to slaughter the campers.