When writing their first piece, a new critic must establish credibility by proving they have discerning taste and a finger on the pulse of current pop culture. That’s why I’m immediately staking my reputation on defending 1987’s “A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors,” a film as magnificent and chaotic as its overstuffed title.
It feels right to dedicate the inaugural issue of this horror column to the franchise that inspired its name. “But why start with number three?” you are surely asking. Please hold your questions at this time and let the genius work.
The original “A Nightmare on Elm Street” (1984) is a horror classic with much to offer fans of men in crop tops. The second installment is, simply put, one of the most homosexual movies ever made. But it was in “Dream Warriors” (1987), another film in the franchise, that Freddy Krueger, in his final, wisecracking form, truly slashed his way into pop culture icon status — and my heart. Luckily, you can skip to the third film without feeling too behind on the plot. And whether or not you consider yourself a horror fan, I recommend you give it a chance.
The film combines over-the-top 80s camp with a surprisingly earnest compassion for its troubled teen characters, resulting in a movie that, while charmingly dated in its aesthetics, is more relevant than ever to the daily horrors faced by Gen Z.
While “Dream Warriors” has much to love for horror fans (including one particularly gnarly vein puppeteering sequence), it shares a lot of DNA with a superhero film. The titular dream warriors, a group of mentally ill teens in a psychiatric facility, are plagued by shared nightmares of a man with a burned face and razors on his fingers. Even after kids start dying, the teens are dismissed by most of the adult staff who would rather sedate them, unknowingly trapping them in Freddy’s nightmare world. To defeat him, the teens must team up, using their newfound dream powers to protect each other and realize their best selves.
“As a young person today, it often feels like we are living in a world that was already destroyed before we got here.”
A boy in a wheelchair dons a cape and becomes a Wizard Master. One girl suddenly develops acrobatic abilities. Another equips herself with switchblades and a mohawk to live her dream of being “beautiful … and bad!” The wholehearted commitment to the corniness of it all is refreshing compared to the self-conscious irony poisoning of modern Marvel flicks.
To paraphrase one of the great thinkers of our time, Stefon: This movie has everything. Spooky nuns. Killer wheelchairs. Dream wizards. Stop-motion skeleton fights. A hot, young Laurence Fishburne. Possibly the best line ever put to film, “Freddy Krueger, the bastard son of a hundred maniacs!”
If you tell me you don’t want to see Freddy Krueger as a giant worm slurping up teens, you’re lying.
Despite its dated special effects and aggressively 80s synth score, “Dream Warriors” feels made for Gen Z. In the film, the teens learn that Freddy is targeting them because their parents burned him alive years earlier in an act of vigilante justice. Their anger at the unfairness is one that I understand intimately.
As a young person today, it often feels like we are living in a world that was already destroyed before we got here. As I write this, ash is falling from the sky over Claremont, the result of increasingly common wildfires. From climate change to gun violence to a crumbling economy (all issues you’re surely stoked to be reminded of in an entertainment review), we are paying for the actions of previous generations.
Like the dream warriors, we are not taken seriously. According to many from older generations, Gen Z’s outrage is childish, our fears are whiny and our mental health crisis is a sign of weakness.
Parents, psychiatrists and authorities all say the same thing: “There is no Freddy Krueger.” If there is no threat, the adults bear no responsibility for it. The teens of Elm Street have been betrayed, and so have we.
Ultimately, “Dream Warriors” represents why the horror genre has become a refuge for me. So many of us feel afraid so much of the time, and there aren’t many socially accepted venues in which to express that.
“Dream Warriors” is a validation: You’re right to feel that something is deeply wrong. The threats you face, the ones that adults created and now purposefully ignore, are real. Your fear deserves to be taken seriously. There, there, it’s not OK.
If a “Nightmare on Elm Street” movie can embrace cheesy sincerity, so can I. When those in power won’t protect us, we must protect each other. So strap on your cape, grab your switchblades and help someone else get through this nightmare. Together, we can dream a better world into reality.
In her dreams, Niko Kay Smith (SC ‘25) has incredible breakdancing abilities and the power to peel an orange in one piece. ‘A Nightmare on 6th St’ is TSL’s new horror column, where Niko covers their journey from scaredy cat to rabid horror fan, one movie at a time.
Facebook Comments