Thirty years is a lifetime, but in film it’s just one more marker along the celluloid highway. A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors debuted on this date in 1987, and certainly the horror world was ready: Friday the 13th was six films deep, and the Halloween franchise was one year away from Michael Myers’ long-awaited return). In other words, horror franchises were still a dependable source of income for studios. All eyes were on New Line Cinema to see if their cash cow Freddy Krueger could continue the box-office boom with Dream Warriors, which brought back the franchise’s creator Wes Craven as a co-writer in an attempt to course-correct the perceived slighting of his world with the previous entry, Freddy’s Revenge. What audiences got, however, was the sequel that put all the rest in the series to shame, and cemented the Krueger mythology in horror lore forever.
Personally, I love Freddy’s Revenge. People complained (and still do) that it didn’t follow the mythology set forth in the original film, but you can’t mythologize without a running thread; Revenge chose to cut and run and just tell a very entertaining Freddy story. Truly, I can understand why most felt this way—the character and premise was certainly rife with fantastic possibilities tied to Craven’s dreamscapes. His screenplay, co-written by Bruce Wagner (Wild Palms), was a very dark affair; first-time director Chuck Russell (The Blob) and his co-writer, Frank Darabont (The Mist) brought much of the gallows humor that the series would become known for.
This combination proved quite heady; Craven was able to establish his mythos and Russell reintroduced a villain just learning to twirl his mustache (before that became all that he did). Audiences responded in kind with Dream Warriors, which brought in nearly $45 million at the box office, making it one of the higher grossing entries of the entire series. It appeared that New Line finally had the right formula.
But formulas only work in the right mixture; subsequent films relied more and more on Freddy witticisms and wisecracks, diluting the once powerful dream imagery to the potency of an episode of Blossom. (I’m Team Six, if anyone is asking.) Dream Warriors isn’t just joke and kill; it reverberates to this day due to, yes, incredibly inventive dream-slaying, but most importantly, sympathetic, three-dimensional characters.
The kids in Dream Warriors are damaged; emotionally wounded and physically crippled through abusive homes (which street do you think they all resided on?). The latest addition to Westin Hills Psychiatric Hospital is Kristen (Patricia Arquette), sent there after seemingly cutting her wrists in a suicide attempt (that was actually orchestrated by Freddy). In group therapy, the gang discovers they are all visited in their dreams by the same man with the pointy fingers and the grubby sweater. So far, so good. The script quickly establishes a set of characters to see us through a narrative, but how about a guide? This was Craven’s masterstroke: he brought back Nancy (Heather Langenkamp) as a counselor. This could be construed as a simple cash-in on the popularity of the original, but the goal is loftier; Nancy is able to give the kids the lay of the land, to set out Krueger’s game pieces on the board. This is the true mythos building for the series, as all the rules are laid out for the players.
The problem with the sequels that followed is that the kids become the set pieces for Krueger. Practically interchangeable, they become types: the jock, the rich girl, the insecure one. In Dream Warriors, all the kids are insecure; it’s built into their psyches. This leads to another reason the film works so well—when Nancy brings the kids into the dream world, to take the fight to him—they find out they have powers, too. The shy, wheelchair-bound Will becomes a wizard, Kincaid channels his rage into super strength, and frightened junkie Taryn morphs into a tough, street-wizened punk. This empowering of the kids is a turnaround from previous entries. In the original, Nancy survived, sure, but most of the other characters were left powerless on Freddy’s turf. The Dream Warriors bring the noise to Krueger. The right mixture of character and drive sets this film apart. I’m not saying they all survive, but victims, they are not.
Dream Warriors also features some of the series’ best set pieces, which are filled with scope, imagination, color, and dread. From Joey being literally tongue-tied, to aspiring starlet Jennifer’s chance to break into showbiz, or puppeteer Phillip’s moonlit stroll, these indelible images are so far removed from pro forma slasher kills that they skirt the line between a Grimms’ fairy tale and a grim outcome. Most critics pegged Dream Warriors as just another cynical cash grab for a money-driven studio looking to bilk kids out of their milk money. Of course, this couldn’t be further from the truth.
The intelligence of the horror audience can never be underestimated. We know the difference between a cut ’em up and something a little more ambitious. That doesn’t mean we don’t and can’t like both, but the chances are good the kids of Westin Hills still dance in your conscience whether you first saw this film thirty days or thirty years ago. The only thing interchangeable about this crew is their renewed passion for living outside of the four gray walls they’re imprisoned within, if they can only defeat Freddy. And you have to hand it to them; these kids dream big. Maybe not big enough, but that’s why God created sequels. And Masters.