That zit is our clue, it’s time for Scream 3. And this time, Neve is armed – not with a gun, but with what looks either like Pepper Spray or a can of OFF insect repellent. Who can tell?
Believe it or not, the good folks at the studio set up a special screening of Scream 3 just for me. Not because I’m a big-shot, but because I’m a pest who can’t be trusted to know too much too far in advance. I’m a loose cannon, for chrissake! Look out!
Hey, Miramax, since you’re going to all that trouble, why not just send the cast over to my house to run lines? Oops, that’s impossible, since cast-member Jenny McCarthy couldn’t find her way unless I tie a line around her neck and reel her in. It’s a common practice at Jenny’s one-time haunt, the Playboy mansion, where there are so many live ones being hauled in, Hef should hang them from hooks and snap photo mementos. “Hey, look at what Joe Montana caught! Is that tuna an albacore?”
It won’t surprise anyone to know that Jenny’s job is to get dispatched early, which is merciful to say the least. If Jenny were a soldier, dialogue’s the enemy – small wonder she owes her success to her foxhole, if you know what I mean.
Didn’t Jenny get her implants removed? Well it sure looks like they’re back! She’s had those breasts stuffed so many times her agent negotiates a side of cranberry sauce and a slice of pumpkin pie. With Jenny, it’s not called “surgery” it’s called “harvesting the crops.”
If Jenny’s gonna be on film, let it be 35mm Kodak prints, not the silver screen. She’s helplessly over the top and way out of her face-mugging, belch-mongering league. Jenny, take a lesson from the exquisite Parker Posey, who’s also over the top and really, really good at it.
Remember Cotton Weary? He has graduated from Woodsboro to host a TV talk show called “100% Cotton,” which the network refers to “the fabric of our program schedule.” At NATPE, it was sold as the only “natural” thing to come out of LA that wasn’t bottled from an underground spring.
My God, Courtney Cox is so skinny she can slide into rooms without opening doors. Her body double is a number 2 pencil. Not only is she David Arquette’s wife, she’s also his bookmark.
One question: What’s with Courtney’s wig? It just looks…wrong! I think wardrobe covered a soup ladle with hair and tipped it upside down on her head, carefully slipping the handle down her back to help prop her up. Does this big dipper require hair gel or PAM?
This movie includes what was, for me, the funniest moment in all of the Scream movies. A certain scathingly-funny slacker duo makes a welcome cameo. You’ll know it when you see it, and I wish every movie had it.
Let’s be honest, Scream 3 could have been screamingly bad. I mean, what was fresh about the first one is impossible to duplicate. And what can be harder than making the third movie in a series a gem? One thing: Ending the series without opening the door to Scream 4! Well, Wes Craven and his crew have done both, and it’s a pleasure to behold. A franchise with an ending! Glory be!
Does this mean the Scream homicidal maniac can’t come back to nix the cast of Real World Hawaii before that annoying Amaya signs on as spokesperson for Jenny Craig?
We’ve come a long way since Dragnet. The two LA cops on the job in this flick are heavy on LA and light on cop. Either they work for the Melrose Place division or it’s GQ Friday. The only lineup these guys see is in a Gap ad.
Scream 3 is terrific fun and vastly better than I had feared. That’s despite climaxing with that trusty cliché, a lengthy explanatory scene where the killer lays out his (or her) psychopathic motivation and slows the movie to a dead stop.
Oh well, it’s tradition.