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Life Is Too Short: Scream The TV Series (2015)

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That Is A Bad Scream. This Is A Bad Scream.

Ah, teenage sex, so good to leer at, even more so when it’s quickly punished by horrible death! One hated the Scream franchise, so smug and up-to-your-face it was, courtesy of screenwriter Kevin Williamson, the Tarantino of slasher movies. But director Wes Craven, the man brought to screen life so many senseless serial killers, is now dead, and may his soul rest in peace or rot in hell as he would have chosen. Respect is due. But what of his legacy? Well, this series, for one. And what a mess.

This post inaugures the “Life Is Too Short” thread, based on a series pilot only. Life is short indeed. Series are legion. One will be watching pilots and will either keep watching and report (not necessarily one episode a week), or estimates it’s not worth it. This is the first example of the latter.

One shouldn’t bother with the whole episode, really, the pre-generic sequence says it all. Some rich blonde bitch is driven back from some party by a guy who will not only not get head but get decapitated; she’s drunk but she still types her basic sextos awful fast with no typos whatsoever; she does everything through her smartphone; she’s super-excited at the idea to get stalked. Before being stabbed to death she utters lines like “My Pomeranian is trained as an attack dog” but her 911 call is redirected to Pottery Barn. No, really. She dies. The end.

But alas, no. There’s a plenty more cast at the George Washington High School (apparently set in a garage for the exteriors?) discussing Rich Blond Bitch’s fate in the light of a previous serial killer: Brandon James. Let’s all take a moment here: “Mike Myers” is a great name for a serial killer, as is “Jason Voorhees”. “Hannibal Lecter” is a great name for a serial killer. Not so is “Brandon James”. This is a guy you went to school with in Ohio, and you forgot about him.

School, ah. This is during “literature class” that the series high concept is unveiled: while gothic is made to last for at least four seasons, slasher has to be “bright and fast”. Can we proceed to the demonstration of the contrary? Being a series, Scream will not be fast, but that was the writer’s ambition. Problem is, it won’t be bright either.

“Some guys like sports, I like serial killers”, says someone, instantly making him the oldest guy in a room full of way-past-their-high-school-age-students. One means, serial killers? Ever heard of vampires, super-heroes, zombis even? The whole endeavour is so quaint it hurts.

All cardboards included look weird and act accordingly. Minorities are represented by an Asian girl and a Greek-or-somethink guy. Comes the party in honour of the rich blonde bitch and she’s only represented by the lone candle by her worst picture, while everyone gets drunk / tries to get laid.

Mom was the object of Brendon James’ affection, she never left the city where she had this devastating affair with the monster at the point she became coroner but she nevertheless tells the sheriff “something she never told anyone before” (see above). There was a doomed pontoon, and it is STILL THERE!

As always, should the fate of the world or most of the student body be at stake, plot boils down to the one very question: “who slept with whom?”.

Sorry, life’s too short to keep track of THAT.

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