KRR: So, An Extremely Thorough Dissection of the First Scene of 'Scream.'

 

Let's just go ahead and get this out the way - if you came for a movie review of Scream, this is going to be a short read for you. I love Scream. It's a very good horror movie, an even better comedy, and an absurdly great piece of writing. The story is so straight forward and perfect, one could call it a formula. The film nails the self-referential style, while (deliberately) hitting the hallmarks of a classic horror film. And Matthew Lillard, above everyone else, spins gold in this movie. Absolute gold. It's one of the most iconic performances of all time. Overall, I give the film a 9.2 out of 10. Really, really good. Barely improvable. So if that's what you came for, there you go. But that's not what I came for.

I'm writing this blog because I am absolutely, 100%, astonishingly enamored with the first thirteen minutes of this movie. I genuinely think it might be the best thirteen minute stretch in any movie, and it's time we talk about that.

So, let's start with the first third of the opening scene: The Mysterious Caller.

The movie starts with the flash of a very corny title card in all caps: SCREAM. Then, it immediately cuts to Drew Barrymore, who was promoted as the lead star of the film, answering a wrong number. She's got her beautiful blonde hair cut into a bob (which really looks very, very good in this movie. I want to know her hair routine.), and she's wearing a cozy-looking white sweater. An important detail to note is that for almost the entire scene we don't know her character's name is Casey. To us, she's just Drew Barrymore. We have a history of rooting for Barrymore and we bring that history into the movie with us. We're rooting for her from the moment she picks up the phone, because the film never gives us a chance to think of her as anybody else. Anyway, the scene begins by Drew graciously informing the caller with the spooky voice he has the wrong number and hanging up. He calls back immediately to uhhh... apologize. But then he says he wants to talk to her for a minute, and you can see an almost curious smile creep across Drew's lips. But again she politely tells him there are other numbers for that, and she hangs up. 

We love Barrymore.

This is when some real genius cinematography kicks in. The camera cuts to an outside shot, panning down over a rope swing swaying softly under the branch of a large tree in the yard. It's the middle of the night, and all the ground-floor lights of Barrymore's spacious home illuminate the windows. This shot is great because it establishes the setting in our mind, and also because we're going to be coming back to that swing later. Just hold on to that. 

Then we cut back inside. Drew is making stovetop popcorn when, once again, the mysterious caller gives her a ring and she answers. Now, quick aside - I absolutely love the stovetop popcorn in this scene. It's such a great set piece because it feels like a totally normal thing for someone to be doing and it adds a sense of realism to the scene. It also serves as a great timer for things to come. If you don't take the popcorn off the burner when it's done, it will burn and that can escalate quickly to a more serious issue. It's just one more little thing we have to worry about as the opening becomes increasingly stressful. Now, I digress. Back to Barrymore and her mysterious friend on the other line. 

She picks up the phone slightly annoyed, but he ingratiates himself to her and once he hears the popcorn, she tells him she's preparing to watch a movie. What kind of movie, he asks. Just some scary movie, Drew responds. Love this line. Let the self-referentialism (not a word but you get the point) begin. The caller asks what kind of scary movies Drew enjoys, and while fiddling with the knife block, she says, "Halloween!"

A great moment.

"You know, the one with the guy in the white mask?" she adds. Yes Drew. I know that one. Then we get a quick shot of the popcorn on the stove beginning to fill the tin. Tick, tick Drew, better keep an eye on that. But she doesn't. Instead we follow her down the hall to the den, while she chats with the caller about Nightmare on Elm Street. She says she liked the first one, but the rest sucked. Sound like another horror franchise you know? (Interesting note: This is another moment of self-referentialism, as both Nightmare on Elm Street and Scream were directed by horror master, Wes Craven.)

Then, our friendly caller asks, "Do you have a boyfriend?" to which she says she does not. That's when the caller makes his move and the hot and heavy part of the movie rolls in. Queue some Marvin Gaye, baby. Okay, not really. Drew keeps it pretty PG and decides to innocently flirt with the guy instead. Until this happens:

Caller: You haven't told me your name.

Drew: Why do you want to know my name?

Caller: Because I want to know who I'm looking at.

Oh FUCK. That's some scary shit. Drew is spooked. Hell, I'm spooked. She immediately gets suspicious and looks out her back patio door, turning the light on outside and going silent on the phone. There's no one outside the window that we can see, just some patio furniture and a slow mist rolling off of the pool. She turns the light out and locks the door. Then she tells the caller that she has to go. "Don't hang up on me!" is the last we hear from him before she does just that. That's just three minutes into the movie. We're rolling now.

The scene momentarily cuts back to the popcorn, which is getting closer and closer to being finished. Then back to Barrymore. She's walking to the kitchen when the phone rings. Shit. She answers, clearly upset, and tells the still relatively calm voice to dial someone else. Then she hangs up again. Finally, she makes it back to the popcorn and just as she's reaching to take it off the stove, the phone rings. She answers rather angrily.

Drew: LISTEN ASSHOLE-

Caller: NO, YOU LISTEN YOU LITTLE BITCH. YOU HANG UP ON ME AGAIN, I'LL GUT YOU LIKE A FISH. UNDERSTAND!

 

Every time I watch this scene I wish she would just grab the popcorn off the stove and let the phone ring one more time. Why does she have to immediately answer?! There's popcorn at risk of burning! But I guess after that threat, the popcorn is the least of Drew's worries. The caller, who sounds borderline aroused, continues more calmly saying that he just wants to play a game with her. "Can you handle that, blondie?" he asks. But that's when Drew bolts. She runs down the hallway locking doors, the percussive score drumming in our ears. Then she looks out the front door's window with the phone to her ear. Again, we see nothing. Gasping, Drew threatens to call the police, to which the smug voice on the phone points out that they wouldn't make it in time. "We're in the middle of nowhere." Great exposition, even if it isn't as subtle as the earlier shots from outside.

Then comes the end of the first third of this scene: Drew, on the verge of tears, asks what he wants. His response? "To see what your insides look like!" She hangs up and starts sobbing, which is just about the most relatable thing Drew Barrymore does in this movie. Random phone calls already make me want to sob, I can't imagine being told that by a stranger on the other end. 

Me, answering any strange phone call.

Then, the doorbell rings. Drew screams and lunges for the phone to call the police. But before she can dial, it rings. "Who's there!" she cries out before answering. And we move into the part two of this scene: The Trivia Round.

The next four minutes all take place by the back patio door, as an increasingly distraught Drew Barrymore begs the caller to stop terrorizing her. This section begins with her warning him that the boyfriend she claimed didn't exist earlier, is actually on his way to her house to watch a movie and if he finds the caller at her house, it's going to be very unpleasant for the both of them. That's putting it elegantly though. The way she says it is so much better, and it's followed by one of my favorite line readings from the whole movie:

Drew: HE'S BIG AND HE PLAYS FOOTBALL AND HE'LL KICK THE SHIT OUT OF YOU!

Caller *very sarcastically*: I'm getting scared. I'm shaking in my boots.

I love it. Absolutely love it. Then, the caller pulls a real twist on her. "His name wouldn't happen to be Steve would it?" the callers spits. Drew's jaw drops. She's absolutely stunned. How could this caller possibly know her boyfriend's name?! Well, I'll tell you how - because Steve is the most generic white guy name. Like, if you asked me what I thought a blonde teenage girl from the mid-90's boyfriend's name would be, I'd guess Steve. If you gave me the bonus hints that he's big and he plays football and he'll kick the shit out of me, I'd bet my life on Steve. Honestly, I don't see why Drew is that shocked by the news that this random caller knows her boyfriend's name. Hell, the caller's name is probably Steve. Unfortunately for ole Steve the Big Football Player, that isn't how the caller knows his name. "Turn on the patio light, again," the caller says.

Things aren't looking great for Steve.

Well, there's Steve. He does exist after all. The caller warns Drew not to go outside and try to save Stevie. The only way Drew can save him is if she can answer some trivia questions. "Play a game or he dies right now." It's like Deal or No Deal on steroids. The caller tells her to turn off the patio light. Drew does, and then, as emotionally unstable as ever, she backs herself into the corner between the television and the bookshelf, and crouches down. "Here's how we play," the voice says over the phone. "I ask a question. If you get it right, Steve lives." Drew is sobbing at this point and begging the caller not to hurt them. "Come on," he replies. "It'll be fun. It's an easy category: Movie Trivia."

This is the part where I personally get really excited, because I love trivia, especially movie trivia. I can see why Drew Barrymore isn't as excited to have to answer these questions, though. All jokes aside, the brilliant thing about this concept is that it really does feel like we're being asked the questions too, as a horror movie audience. How well do we know the genre we're watching? We all instinctively try to answer when watching the film, but the only voice that matters is Drew's. Luckily, the caller is feeling generous, so he gives her a softball warm-up question: Who is the killer from Halloween?

"Come on, it's your favorite scary movie, remember?" he says. "He has a white mask. He stalks the babysitter..." Drew, crouched and sobbing in the corner, struggles to remember his name, which I find a little preposterous, but ultimately chalk up to it being a rather stressful situation. Exactly 17 seconds after being asked the question, Drew Barrymore coughs up the name: Michael. 

"YES!" the callers exclaims gleefully. "Very good. Now for the real question." Drew begs him to stop. Clearly, she isn't operating like her normal movie-trivia self. He refuses. Instead, he lobs her the question with consequences: "Name the killer in Friday the 13th."

"JASON!" she yells immediately, along with most of the audience I'd imagine. She hops to her feet, repeating his name over and over again. But... that's not correct.

"I'm sorry, that's the wrong answer," the caller says overwhelmed with joy. Drew counters that she's right. She's seen the movie twenty (goddamn) times she says. It's Jason. But the caller assures her, if she remembers correctly, the original killer is actually Jason's mother, and Jason himself doesn't show up until the sequel. "You tricked me," she responds despondently. You and me both, sister. Luckily for me, I had nothing on the line, but for poor Drew it means saying goodbye to her big football-playing boyfriend. However, the caller throws Drew another twist: There's a bonus round! But Steve won't get to see it. Then, with Drew watching at the back patio door, Steve is fucking gutted. Intestines strewn all about, his stomach completely eviscerated. And it happens all in a matter of nine seconds. NINE! That's eight seconds less than it took for her to remember Michael Myer's name. How do you gut someone in NINE seconds?? Are we dealing with the Flash here?! Suddenly the movie blows wide open. This is getting serious.

Poor Steve.

Drew sinks to the ground at the god-awful sight of her now deceased boyfriend, and as the voice cackles through the receiver, she retreats back into her corner. She gasps for air, barely able to beg for her life anymore, as the caller tees up her final question (and my personal favorite): "What door am I at?" AWWWWWW SHIT. Here we go. It's about to get super spooky. Drew, stunned, is assured that if she answers correctly, she'll live. (Seems doubtful, but ok, Mr. Caller). Then, just as she's beginning to get her voice back, one of the patio chairs comes fucking flying through the glass patio doors. It somehow breaks the glass in BOTH doors and a good portion of the wooden doorframe. The caller must have a hell of an arm. Maybe it's the Flash and Superman..? Regardless of who it is, Drew says fuck that shit and bolts to the kitchen, where LOW AND BEHOLD, the popcorn is on fire!

I'd insert a picture of the popcorn spitting flames from the stovetop, but unfortunately Google is not as invested with the popcorn from Scream as I am, so I'll just ask you to imagine in your mind the two-feet tall flames bursting from the popcorn tin. Got it? Okay, good. Well, Drew rushes into that smoky kitchen and pulls the largest, most stereotypical horror movie knife from the block. Gripping the receiver in her right hand and the knife in left, she begins to slowly back out of the kitchen towards another door to the outside. That's when we see a flash of a black robe dash across the hallway. And the final third of the scene is on: The Hunt.

The final stretch of this scene begins with Drew backing her way through a doorway out of the kitchen and into the dark backyard. She shuts the door with a click, clutches the receiver and knife to her chest, and presses herself up against the side of the house. Now, I understand her desire to remain hidden, but I'm going to be honest - she does a lot of NOT running right here, and I can't help but be a little bothered by it. For twenty seconds, Barrymore stands there catching her breath and glancing through the window at the black-robed intruder sneaking around inside, until she notices a set of headlights over the cornfields. She then stands there for another NINETEEN seconds, not moving, despite the fact that there's a car heading straight towards her house. Finally, she ducks below the windows and moves alongside the house. Five seconds later, we see that the car is turning into her drive, and Drew stands up. Brace yourself for the scariest moment of the movie. Barrymore stands up only to see the black robe standing right there in the window, its back separated by a few inches and a pane of glass from her face. Then suddenly it turns, and we get to see, for the very first time, the now-iconic mask.

Scream, baby, scream. Also, her hair - it still looks great.

Chaos ensues. The masked killer punches through the glass window (SUPERMAN!) and shakes the knife from Barrymore's left hand. Then, he HEADBUTTS the window, shattering it entirely, and Drew whacks him in the face with the telephone. He falls back and she turns to sprint away. Only, she falls back into her classic trope - she stops running. As she's running by the chair with Steve's mangled corpse, she stops in panic. I'll give her a pass on this one, 'cause I think it would also stop me in my tracks. But then she's back on the move, and she's rounding the corner of her house just as the car is pulling into the driveway. And then SHE STOPS RUNNING AGAIN. WHY DREW BARRYMORE. RUN. RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN. JUMP ON TO THE CAR. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!!!

But no, she stops. And the masked killer leaps through another window and tackles her. (At this point, I'm genuinely convinced Superman has broken bad.) She gets up and begins to sprint away, but the killer catches up to her. Racing up behind her, he covers her mouth and stabs the knife deep into her chest. For the first time, we're forced to consider the possibility that Drew Barrymore - the so-called star of the movie - might not get away.

:(

The killer pins her to the ground and goes for her throat. Just when it looks like all hope is lost though, she does what any woman should do in this situation and kicks him in the crotch! Superman falls away from her, and she's just barely able to make it to her feet. By now, we see - from the disoriented perspective of Barrymore - that the car is parked and her parents are making their way up to the wrap-around porch. Drew stumbles towards the edge of the porch, and let's out a raspy cry for her mother. It's honestly a little heartbreaking because it isn't loud enough to get their attention, as they're concerned about the slightly ajar front door. Maybe if Drew had just guessed the front door during the bonus round, this would all have been avoided. But instead her parents push their way inside, while the killer pushes Drew down on the porch and begins to finish her off. 

The scene slows down for a few seconds, as the killer brings the knife high above, its blade shining in the moonlight. And just before he comes down with the killing blow, Drew reaches for his mask, prying it off and revealing none other than CLARK KENT. No, I'm kidding. It reveals nothing more than a black space shrouded in secrecy by the hood. Down comes the knife.

Back inside, Drew's dad - whose name is probably something like John, because that was the sixties' equivalent of Steve - stumbles into the living room to find one of patio chairs has crashed through BOTH of his patio doors. Her mother hears the smoke alarm in the kitchen and rushes in to do what we've all been waiting for - save the house from burning down!! Bless up Drew Barrymore's mother. She leaves the flaming popcorn tin in the sink and rushes back to John in the living room. He grabs her. "Call the police." She grabs the receiver by the front door and dials 911. But it doesn't ring.

Instead, the scene flashes from the knife plunging into Drew again to her mother with the receiver to her ear. "Casey, baby?" her mother mutters. "She's here! I can hear her!" But it doesn't matter anymore. We watch as Drew Barrymore's body is dragged across the lawn, her dying breaths being muttered into the phone still clutched in her right hand, her mother listening on the other end.

PAUSE: It has come to my attention that Drew Barrymore did not in fact dye or cut her hair for this role, and that that beautiful bob is actually a wig. And despite how cheated I feel, I will not make any changes to the comments earlier in this blog about her hair. This is a real-time emotional journey. 

And we're back. Just as John takes the phone from his distraught wife, the line goes dead. He doesn't wait around for something to happen (unlike his daughter), so he instructs his wife to go down to the neighbors'. Panicked, she backs out of the front door, clutching at the neck of her jacket. And then, she turns and unfurls one of the three greatest screams in cinema history. Screaming, she collapses to her knees, as John rushes out the front door. He glances at his wife before he sees too: their daughter, with her perfect hair, terrifyingly dead and hanging from the rope swing under the tree. There's a hard rush from the camera to a close-up on her body, then boom, a flash of lightning and cut to black!

End scene.

One of the most terrifying deaths I've ever seen.

And there you go. That's the first scene of Scream. Now, you're probably wondering why I decided to rehash in extreme detail the first thirteen minutes of a 24-year old movie. Well, because it's the best opening scene of all time. Despite how many times I yell at Drew Barrymore to start running and despite the myriad of questions I have regarding the killer's strength and speed, there's no denying how paralyzing the fear that emanates from this scene can be. It's easily the scariest scene in the movie, and it sets a wonderfully dark tone for everything that follows. Of course, what follows is much lighter and funnier, but you're left knowing how dark and gruesome it could really get. This scene also pulls one of the greatest stunts in movie history - it kills off the biggest star of movie within the first fifteen minutes. How many other movies can say they've done that? Very, very few. It's tantamount to sinking your own ship. But in this case, it works. It works beautifully. There is no scene, in my opinion, scarier or more iconic than the first thirteen minutes of Scream. And that's why I decided to write this blog.

Scream is a masterpiece, and that opening scene is its crown jewel. What more needs to be said?

Scream KRR: 9.2/10