Still trying to make sense of Freddy Krueger, using an important biographical tidbit about him ("the bastard son of a hundred maniacs") provided by a now-you-see-her-now-you-don't nun. (Guess who she turns out to be.) Is it possible that all Freddy wanted was for his old bones to rest in hallowed ground? We'll see about that. Meanwhile, there are some high-toned gags (a bar named Little Nemo's, after the rococo dreamer of the old Winsor McCay comic strip), and many more low-toned ones ("Let's go kick the motherfucker's ass all over dreamland!"). And there are some poetic fright gimmicks and many more prosaic ones. And in both areas, almost no sense of discrimination. With Heather Langenkamp, Craig Wasson, and Robert Englund; directed by Chuck Russell. (1987) — Duncan Shepherd
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