Scream 7

 

Director: Kevin Williamson
Starring: Neve Campbell, Isabel May, Jasmin Savoy Brown, Mason Gooding, Anna Camp, David Arquette, Michelle Randolph, Jimmy Tatro, Mckenna Grace, Asa Germann, Celeste O' Connor, Sam Rechner, Mark Consuelos, Ethan Embry, Tim Simons, Matthew Lillard, Joel McHale, Courtney Cox 
Running Time: 114 min.
Rating: R

★★½ (out of ★★★★)    

While few expected the Scream series to even be watchable this far in, the hiring of directing team Radio Silence and actresses Melissa Barrera and Jenna Ortega for 2022's Scream and 2023's Scream 6 revitalized a struggling property, resulting in its two best efforts yet. And though a few legacy characters held on, the torch seemed ready to be passed, signaling an even brighter future ahead for the franchise. 

Given this, you'd figure the studio would do anything to extend its streak and facilitate a smooth transition for the saga's next chapter. So of course they let Radio Silence walk, fired Barrera after a public controversy and watched Ortega exit. Now it's not only time to find out if Scream 7 can creatively recalibrate, but whether any actor or filmmaker is bigger than the franchise itself. Financially, we know the answer, as this became the series' highest grossing entry. But its level of quality is a separate issue. 

Going all in with nostalgia, Neve Campbell is back, along with the original's writer/producer Kevin Williamson as director. We also get the returns of Courtney Cox, Matthew Lillard, David Arquette and others in various incarnations often too complicated or ridiculous to fully explain. And an actor being present in the film doesn't necessarily mean their character is, at least in the traditional sense. Unsurprisingly, this feels like a step back, as if the studio just wanted to get it over with to prove they could.  

With the Macher house in Woodsboro now turned into an interactive museum and Airbnb dedicated to Ghostface's killings, Stab superfan Scott (Jimmy Tatro) convinces his reluctant girlfriend Madison (Michelle Randolph) to stay the night. After they find an unexpected guest and chaos erupts, word travels back to Sidney Prescott (Campbell), who's built a new life with teen daughter Tatum (Isabel May) and police chief husband Mark (Joel McHale) in Pine Grove, Indiana. But when Sidney receives a mysterious videocall from Ghostface, she's shocked to see a scarred, middle-aged Stu Macher (Lillard), the presumably dead killer from thirty years earlier. 

Now Tatum, along with boyfriend Ben (Sam Rechner) and classmates Hannah (Mckenna Grace), Chloe (Celeste O' Connor) and Lucas (Asa German) suddenly find themselves in immediate danger. And despite Sidney's tension with Tatum over her refusal to share anything about her traumatic past, mother and daughter must work together to defeat Ghostface, just as a returning Gale Weathers (Cox) arrives to help. Is Stu actually still alive or is there a new killer on the loose? As usual, everyone's a suspect. 

The film's extended cold open feels particularly reliant on the franchise's more obvious tropes, which is likely the point. Still, you can't help but roll your eyes wondering why we're going down this road again after the two visually and narratively superior installments preceding it. It's very much back to basics, and the Macher house, a setting that probably would have packed a bigger punch had it not already been featured in the fifth entry. 

If you can get past the house being open to the public soon after the latest killing spree, Williamson and co-writer Gary Busick sticking to the formula won't seem like such a problem. But the familiar sequence plays out more transparently than usual, full of obvious fake-outs, clunky dialogue and manufactured jump scares. Things quickly improve once the action shifts to Pine Grove, which may as well be Woodsboro 2.0, with a touch of Halloween's Haddonfield thrown in for good measure. 

The concept of local celebrity mom Sidney living her best life and freed from the past works, as does the rift those lingering issues cause with Tatum (who Sidney named after late best friend Tatum Riley). And most of Campbell's scenes opposite Isabel May find the teen wrestling with the shyness and insecurity she feels as the daughter of badass Final Girl Sidney Prescott, who's since become a closed book to those around her. 

What's odd is just how ill prepared and uninformed Tatum is considering the widespread mainstream attention these murders have gotten for decades. Aware she'll always be a target, it's somewhat perplexing Sidney hasn't prepared her daughter for the worst beyond suggesting an emergency go bag Tatum leaves unpacked. Considering the situation, this might be a good time to fill it.

Of course, the big question is whether this really is Stu or a game being perpetrated by a new Ghostface using AI or some other deepfake technology. But considering the script doesn't have much to say about that and it's mainly used as an excuse to bring back legacy characters, its inclusion risks rubbing viewers the wrong way. Whether Stu's alive or not, Lillard's as entertaining as ever, almost making you wish they'd throw logic out the window and just give us what we want, regardless if it makes any sense.    

Williamson does something at around the forty minute mark that has us wondering if we're headed into uncharted territory, before backpedaling with a more traditional approach. And while it's sort of a mess, there are some cleverly staged kill and chase sequences, like a memorable onstage demise during school play rehearsals, as well as a gory bar massacre. If there's a huge disappointment, it's the reduced presence of Roger L. Jackson as the voice of Ghostface, who doesn't figure in nearly as much due to the mechanics of this plot. 

Collectively, the new cast is fine, if lacking a true standout since May understandably monopolizes the film's second half as Tatum. She and everyone else are immediately labeled as potential suspects, especially boyfriend Ben, who's humorously referred to as the "Gen Z Billy Loomis" by returning twins Mindy (Jasmin Savoy Brown) and Chad (Mason Gooding). And while it's great having both back for continuity's sake, the choice to make the siblings fledgling true crime reporters under the tutelage of Cox's Gale is an odd one. We also get a revisitation of her hot and cold relationship with Sidney, as the franchise frenemies work to bury the hatchet following Dewey's (Arquette) death.  

We're all well aware of the rules going into any final reveal, such as the notion we can't trust any prior death, no matter how conclusive it appears. Or the prevalence of multiple Ghostfaces who share a connective tissue with the series' overall mythology. This time, a lack of the latter cements it as one of the more lackluster endings in the franchise. If there's a saving grace, it's the ability to read it as some sort of meta commentary on the fanbase's obsession with Sidney, and by extension, Campbell herself. But that's a reach.  

The good news is that Campbell gets a chance to shine again, emerging as one of the stronger aspects of a flawed entry that commits to featuring her character as its centerpiece. Given the crazy circumstances, this is better than it has any right being, but also a warning of what happens when a horror franchise retraces its steps in search of the same result. For the first time in a while, fatigue sets in, with Scream 7 more closely resembling the franchise's own self-referential Stab movies than the two previous sequels that put it back on the map.

You (Season 5)

Creator: Greg Berlanti and Sera Gamble
Starring: Penn Badgley, Charlotte Ritchie, Griffin Matthews, Anna Camp, Madeline Brewer, Frankie DeMaio, Pete Ploszek, Tom Francis, Natasha Behnam, Amy-Leigh Hickman, Michael Dempsey, Michelle Hurd, Elizabeth Lail, Saffron Burrows, Shalita Grant, Travis Van Winkle, Cayleb Long, Jefferson White, Tilly Keeper, Tati Gabrielle, Robin Lord Taylor
Original Airdate: 2025

**The Following Review Contains Major Plot Spoilers **

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

For its polarizing final season, Netflix's You returns to the scene of the crime, in some ways proving just how little has changed for serial killer Joe Goldberg since the series first premiered on Lifetime 7 years ago. But what a trip it's been, with the psychological thriller maintaining an enviable level of consistency since the jump to streaming exposed it to a much wider audience. Now that solid run reaches its end with Joe not only forced to confront the past, but meeting his ultimate match in more ways than one. 

Having gone from New York to California to England, Joe's back in the city after leaving a long line of victims and clues in his wake, evading capture long enough to fixate on his next obsession. Whether it's Guinevere Beck, Love Quinn, Marienne Bellamy or Kate Lockwood, all were duped into believing he'd be their white knight. And despite Joe convincing himself this latest reset is different, he'll always revert to his sociopathic default setting, gradually revealing the worst parts of himself before blowing everything up and moving on. 

If last season was defined by a huge Fight Club-inspired twist that raised Joe's body count, this follows those events with an even bigger one, complete with a plethora of callbacks and returns to bring the story full circle, teasing the possibility he'll finally get his. Now with the tables turning, predator becomes prey when an outmaneuvered Joe makes some of his sloppiest mistakes yet. But if this season marks a homecoming, it's only fitting that it all comes back to Beck, who's legacy has him backed into a corner like never before. 

Three years have passed since Joe Goldberg (Penn Badgley) returned to New York City with Kate (Charlotte Ritchie) after killing politician Rhys Montrose (Ed Speleers) and framing his student Nadia (Amy Leigh Hickman) for murder. Having since rehabilitated his image and regaining custody of their son Henry (Frankie DeMaio), he's now one half of a married power couple with Kate, the CEO of T.R. Lockwood Corp. 

Despite covering for Joe, Kate's still unaware of the full extent of his crimes, which causes problems when vindictive sister Reagan (Anna Camp) digs up dirt to have her removed from the company. With Reagan's twin sister Maddie (Camp) caught in the middle, Kate confides in loyal half-brother Teddy (Griffin Matthews) for help. But with his thirst for retribution growing, Joe discovers a homeless woman named Bronte (Madeline Brewer) breaking into the now abandoned Mooney's bookstore. 

After an antagonistic start, Joe and Bronte bond over their shared love for writing as he hires her for the store's reopening. Though his plan to contain Reagan goes horribly awry, he can't stop obsessing over Bronte, who harbors a big secret of her own. Now with Joe's marriage to Kate imploding as she catches on to his lies, Bronte may be the only person left who truly understands him. But even with his newly reassembled cage in Mooney's basement, Joe's luck could be running out.

You'd figure returning to a familiar city with his wife and son would give Joe the chance to permanently put the past behind him. But that's a song we've heard before as his desire for control again overrides the fantasy life he's concocted in his damaged psyche. That he somehow lasted three years in a seemingly normal, functional marriage could almost be considered a success given his track record. So, of course, he's getting restless again. 

Just as he previously discovered how unfit he was for suburban life with Love, the dinner parties, board meetings, fame and fortune that comes with being Mr. Kate Lockwood isn't Joe and never will be. And now Kate's family predicament has given him the perfect excuse to let his darkest urges resurface. What he frames as protecting her is only fuel for his own addictive release, even if it begins under plausibly deniable circumstances. 

As we've come to expect, dishing out punishment is always exclusively about Joe and no one else. He'll also enjoy it way too much, immediately raising red flags and putting Kate in more danger. From him. And we're barely at the second episode before he makes one of his biggest miscalculations, as a seemingly straightforward plan to eliminate Reagan unravels in spectacular fashion, leaving us wondering whether the writers have backed themselves into a corner. The solution is crazy, but also kind of ingenious, enabling Joe to pull another rabbit out of his hat, for the time being.

No plotline features twins without a reason, and while the scenario gets a little convoluted, it works due to Anna Camp's unhinged and ferociously comical dual performance as Reagan and Maddie. Especially in the episodes when she's not only playing both twins, but one masquerading as the other. For a while it even appears Joe won't be able to gain an upper hand on the shrewd, conniving Reagan, who's made it her mission to destroy him and Kate by exposing their shady pasts. 

Chomping scenery like no one's business, Camp is effectively detestable as the evil twin who steps on her clueless himbo of a husband and petrified daughter. But she saves her meanest wrath for outgoing, barely stable sister Maddie, who isn't the ditz she first appears to be. Having built up a lifetime of insecurity and rage from Reagan's bullying, Joe's found his ace in the hole. Unfortunately, she's also a real wild card who could come back to bite him later. 

From the get-go we know Bronte's hiding something beyond her real name and identity. But in the meantime, she's checking all the same boxes as previous women who transfixed Joe. The only question is what game she's playing, with Madeline Brewer proving incredibly effective as this irritatingly artsy, high-strung thinker concealing a presumably troubled past. But whatever Bronte's intentions, she's also drowning in a sea of self-doubt, which only makes Joe fall harder, shutting out the wife he thinks no longer appreciates him. And for all the complaints about Brewer's character not being likable enough, she's not supposed to be, understandably eliciting as many conflicted opinions from viewers as she does Joe.

Episode six ("The Dark Face of Love") is the season's turning point, giving us Bronte's full backstory and and reframing events we've already seen as a master plan's revealed, before abruptly crumbling. The season's huge twist isn't an enormous surprise on its face, but all the details and revelations accompanying it are, along with a pivotal flashback involving Elizabeth Lail's Beck. 

Where "Bronte" begins and Louise Flannery ends is anyone's guess, but her catfishing soon lands her in the same territory as Beck and the rest, shedding pieces of her own identity to believe in Joe. It's almost as if she's entered one of those cheap romance novels she pretends to enjoy, devolving into the very trope she scoffs at while losing sight of her true purpose.  

Since Joe's story always contained details that would drive true crime fanatics crazy and set social media ablaze, it's only natural the writers would fully exploit this in the final episodes. Exposed for the world to see and judge, he's again forced him to do some spin control to reclaim a narrative that's quickly spiraling out of his hands.  

While it seems every crime series is now required to incorporate a podcast, vlog or TikTok subplot, there's rarely been a better thematic match for it than Joe, whose public profile occupies this weird space somewhere between Ted Bundy and Luigi Mangione. We believe he'd want the world to see and hear his delusional version of events, even appealing for sympathy with a childhood trauma tour of the infamous cage. Watching Badgley walk the tightrope in successfully pulling this off is mind boggling, but the hilarious user comments that scroll across the screen during his interview are the true highlight, echoing obsessive thoughts of diehards who pour over every aspect of the show.  

The best part of last season was Charlotte Ritchie's performance as Kate, whose armor of cynicism still wasn't strong enough to withstand the guilt and daddy issues that eventually drove her to Joe. Rattled and more vulnerable, she's now armed with the full truth, done covering for an unstable husband who isn't just a danger to her, but a son who may have inherited his dad's violent streak.   

For far far different reasons than Joe, viewers also yearn for the return of "ice queen" Kate from last season, if only because we know she possesses the strength and intellect to take him out. At first, it doesn't appear as if she'll get there, opting instead to delicately contain him in order to avoid a public relations nightmare. It isn't until she's fully honest with herself about just how dangerous he is that the gloves come off and she recruits some backup. 

Of course, Kate's hardly the only victim so it stands to reason the others Joe wronged would want to extract revenge. Like imprisoned former student Nadia and ex Marienne (Tati Gabrielle), who Joe assumed he left for dead last season. Less conspicuous by her absence is fan favorite Ellie, but given Jenna Ortega's busy schedule, that return was always the longshot and not exactly imperative for closing this out. But it would have been a great surprise. 

With Kate looking to take the law into her own hands, Joe finds himself on the wrong side of the cage by the series' penultimate episode, "Trial of the Furies," which stands as the series' definitive entry for how it brings Joe face-to-face with the cold, hard truth of what he is and why. It's also something this narcissistic killer with more lives than Dexter will never admit to. 

As Joe's current existence literally goes up in flames, starting anew becomes his only option. Barreling toward the home stretch with a slasher-style finale, the question is less about whether his reign of terror will end, but who makes it out alive. And that's where the writers use up every last ounce of goodwill, asking for a massive suspension of disbelief when it comes to these characters' fates. 

Marienne has this brief but memorable talk with Bronte warning her against assuming she's too smart to get sucked into Joe's vortex. It's a standout scene magnified by Gabrielle's powerful performance, suggesting some sort of deprogramming is required for Bronte to stop projecting what she wants to see and start noticing the facts. And with her fate still very much in the air, the show's narrative voice shifts, placing Joe's future in someone else's hands for a change.

This is the season that examines how women who should see Joe for what he is still somehow remain powerless to his charm and excuses, even lying to themselves to justify it. A toxic predator with a type, he's drawn to hurt or damaged people in need of "saving," exerting the control he couldn't as a child trapped inside that cell he'd later lock them in.

Badgely's tackled the most complicated of tasks in playing a tormented protagonist who views himself as the savior, straddling the line between charming manipulation and full blown psychopathy. That's why a trial that fully exposes him to the world is the character's worst nightmare, or at least almost as bad as a castrated life spent alone in prison. It's still a cage of his own making, but a real one he complains "you" put him. And it's the closest thing to a victory his victims can hope to get.                             

Jerry and Marge Go Large

Director: David Frankel
Starring: Bryan Cranston, Annette Bening, Rainn Wilson, Larry Wilmore, Michael McKean, Ann Harada, Jake McDorman, Anna Camp, Uly Schlesinger, Tracie Thoms
Running Time: 96 min.
Rating: PG-13 

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Jerry and Marge Go Large is the type of small, breezy dramatic comedy from the 90's and early 2000's that middle-aged moviegoers flocked to theaters for on the weekend. It's the very definition of a throwback, feeling almost completely out of time, and while that might not seem like the most passionate endorsement, it's actually a high compliment. You wouldn't be wrong calling it "fluff," but director David Frankel seems to know that, competently and inoffensively holding your interest throughout in telling this true story about a couple exposing a flaw in the lottery system. Its title may be terrible and the first half is slightly stronger, but on the whole, it comes as a relief to get a well made, audience-friendly picture for a change. 

An unceremonious streaming drop on Paramount Plus isn't surprising for a genre that now seems as extinct as the dinosaur, but because of this, what was once commonplace suddenly feels special again, despite how few landing places there are for it. Writer Brad Copeland's screenplay (adapted from Justin Fagone's 2018 article) definitely won't be dazzling anyone with twists and turns because it's just not necessary for what essentially amounts to enjoyable human interest entertainment. And sometimes that's enough. But most of the credit should go to its two legendary leads, sharing the screen together for the first time as spouses, expertly inhabiting roles so normal and relatable that you forget how good they actually are.   

Forced into retirement after working over forty years as a production line manager for Kellogg's, Evart, Michigan resident Jerry Selbee (Bryan Cranston) is preparing to enter his golden years with wife Marge (Annette Bening). He struggles with the transition, looking for ways to spend his free time and keep himself useful while Marge is just excited to have him around the house more. With their supportive but adult children Ben (Jake McDorman) and Dawn (Anna Camp) busy with lives of their own, big thinking, detail oriented Jerry continues to sweat the small stuff, much to his friend and accountant Steve's (Larry Wilmore) mild irritation. 

Jerry's free time comes in handy when he discovers a loophole in Michigan's WinFall lottery system that leads the Selbees to cross state lines to purchase an obscene amount of tickets, resulting in substantially more cash. Soon, Jerry and Marge are inviting friends and neighbors to buy into a piece of their new venture, intending to use the earnings to renovate and revitalize their cash strapped town. But when a cocky Harvard student Tyler (Uly Schlesinger) discovers the same flaw, he formulates a plan to corner the market and force Jerry and Marge out of business for good.

At least initially, there's an About Schmidt vibe to all of this, following an uncertain retiree as he clumsily navigates his way through the next stage of life, whatever it may be. This relies more on plot machinations than that superior film, but the universally liked Jerry isn't nearly as ornery as Warren Schmidt, making this less of a character driven drama than a feel good fable. Once the lottery element is introduced, it shifts into what could be considered a traditional studio comedy, which in this case isn't such an awful thing. 

The script doesn't go too far into the weeds about the scheme other than making it clear Jerry recognizes a loophole and crunches numbers with Marge to buy up thousands of WinFall tickets to increase their odds. This requires semi-regular excursions to a small roadside store in Massachusetts that has the machines and an eccentric manager named Bill (Rainn Wilson). While the state's lottery commission doesn't care as long as the money's rolling in, complications arise with the competing Harvard students and Maya (Tracie Thoms), a curious Boston Globe reporter sniffing for a story.

Jerry and Marge including the Evart residents in their shared mission to resuscitate their close-knit, fledgling town lead the couple to embark on an adventure together for seemingly the first time in ages. That's especially true for Jerry, who feels a sense of renewed purpose after spending decades relatively satisfied and respected while punching the clock at work. But now his obsessive attention to detail is making a major impact on people's lives, as he slowly recognizes how he may have overlooked the obvious joys in his own. 

Cranston and Bening are playing a bit older than their ages, but effortlessly pull it off, elevating what's already respectable material to a higher level. Cranston's post-Breaking Bad career has been filled with interesting choices that display just how far his range extends and this continues that. But it's hard not to make an obvious Walter White comparison with Jerry, whose mundane existence is turned upside down after coming upon a life transforming scheme While the retiree's perfectly legal exploitation of the system to save his town is altruistic and a long way from a dying chemistry teacher's drug empire, it's a testament to Cranston that he can so comfortably slip into this like a pro. 

Bening makes for the ideal partner and an exciting presence as Marge, stealing scenes and making impeccably timed sarcastic quips at her husband while keeping him honest. And the rest of the supporting cast (including an underused Michael McKean) add just the right amount of quirkiness and local color to this small town. Even Uly Schlesinger's slimy Harvard antagonist is bearable, with Copeland's script wisely focusing on the generational gap between the two opposing sides. It also resists giving him a schmaltzy or undeserved redemptive arc, knowing that greedy, self-serving actions have consequences and leaving it at that. 

Showing a decent amount of respect for viewers' intelligence, Frankel (who also helmed 2011's tonally similar The Big Year) makes mainstream comedies better than most, utilizing a big screen sitcom  approach that's reminiscent of the late Garry Marshall. At one point a character sarcastically refers to Evart as "Mayberry," and that's not so far off. There's a down home quality to the material that he nails, basking in the inherent goodness of the characters and situation without crossing over into cornball territory. And with Cranston and Bening deftly handling material others of their stature would likely scoff at, the whole film's better off, paving the way for what ends up being a surprisingly pleasant and painless experience.