O.K., I admit it – I’m a big time Scream fan. When I first heard that

Craven, Williamson and company were going to reboot the franchise, I

was both excited and apprehensive, but by the time I got up from the

midnight screening last night I was merely exhilarated. Scream 4 is

fast, funny, furious and, quite simply, kicks ass. Starting off with a

bravura opening sequence, the movie never lags, succeeding both as a

sharp, ironic commentary on our serial killer besotted society and a

brutally clever slasher film. What is often overlooked about the Scream

movies by the critics who dismiss them as hackneyed horror with a thin

patina of self-consciousness, is that, unlike most of their ilk, they

are at the core traditional whodunits, with suspects, clues, red

herrings, and, despite the blood and guts, no higher body counts than

many Agatha Christie books. But to me what really distinguishes them

is, gasp, the character development that most such flicks ignore, the

effect of these crimes on Sydney, who has to somehow deal with the fact

that she’s a bug light for maniacs with knives, or Dewey and Gail who

have to manage a relationship forged by horrific crimes, the kind that,

as another character says, could only happen in the movies. Although

nothing will ever match the unique kick of the first Scream, 4 is the

best effort since, and, as such, one of my favorite movies of the year.