'Sick' Reiterates What Makes a Good Slasher
Every horror fan knows the opening scene of the original Scream by heart. Drew Barrymore's innocent blonde makes popcorn, the phone rings, she answers, and a creep asks her movie trivia questions in order to save her boyfriend, who's tied to a chair in the backyard. Things turn grisly in a matter of seconds. It’s an unnerving and chilling sequence that hooks the viewer instantly. Kevin Williamson (who penned the script) probably knows he won’t ever write another iconic opening scene like that. That doesn’t mean he won’t try, though.
In his latest screenplay (co-written by Katelyn Crabb and directed by John Hyams), Sick, he opens with a scene that has his style written all over it. We follow Tyler (Joel Courtney) running an errand in a grocery store during the “heydays” of the 2020 pandemic. This time, instead of a spooky phone call, he receives a text from an unknown number saying, "Hi Tyler. Wanna party?" He replies, "sure," and asks who this is. The texter replies: only if you're tested for Covid-19. Tyler gets upset, tells him off, and gets in line at the cashier. The next message reveals the texter’s watching him. He leaves, goes home, and in gory fashion, gets murdered by a man with a knife dressed in full black.
While this sequence is nowhere near as brilliant and iconic as the one in Scream, it gives you a taste of what you’re in for in the next 80 minutes. It’s also a seminal part of the film that will later feed into its central theme, adding crucial information to the plot in its final act.
After this cold open, Sick focuses on Parker (Gideon Adlon) and Miri (Bethlehem Million), two college students heading to a huge lake house that sits on top of a hill with no one in sight within two miles. Although Miri reminds Parker, “this isn’t a vacation, it’s a quarantine,” it damn sure looks like one at the start. They drink, smoke, and chill at the lake. That is until Parker starts receiving the same alarming texts as Tyler had earlier. She says it might be DJ (Dylan Sprayberry), her NOT-boyfriend (who's head over heels for her), trying to mess with them. But we know they're being watched — and it won’t take long until the first unannounced visitor arrives and blood-soaked chaos ensues. That’s as far as I can go without ruining this neat little horror any further.
While Sick won’t redefine the genre as Wes Craven’s 1996 classic has, Williamson creates a new playground to apply his essential slasher rules. The script slickly combines contemporary events with basic genre mechanics that aren’t just an unavoidable necessity to adjust to the times. The pandemic and its repercussions provide a context the film's core idea stems from. It's not a gimmick, or a desperate attempt to be relevant, it's a plot device. Everything occurring in the movie is a consequence of Covid-19 and how we reacted to it in those early days.
Slashers — especially lately — are marred by generic clichés such as nonsensical decisions by dumb characters, predictability, and chains of unrealistic action scenes. Sick has very few of those. Although it’s satirical, darkly funny, and incidentally convenient at times, those aspects never come at the expense of its entertaining quality. There are lenient plot points and twists for effect, but its credibility stays intact throughout most of the runtime. We get blood-boiling chase scenes, vicious (but totally earned) brutality, and bad guys consumed by their blindfolding rage and vengeance.
However, the flick is dominated by Adlon and Million (two relative newcomers), whose portrayals never fall victim to generic stereotypes. They convey their roles aptly by finding a natural balance of desperation and resilience. They trigger compassion from the viewer and, despite their occasional bitchiness, we never stop rooting for them to make it out alive until the last second.
Sick’s biggest shortcoming is that it doesn’t offer anything unique or iconic. There isn’t a distinctive mask worn by the killer, a stomach-churningly gross-out death scene, or breathtaking and arresting cinematography. Its strengths are the deftly written script and fast-paced plot, which are good reminders that brutal violence and shock value don't necessarily make a good slasher. Preparation and suspense do. It’s just a shame the film doesn’t include some distinguishing features to stand out a little more from the genre. But maybe that’s the exact thing that will help it succeed and stick out over time. Either way, Williamson and Hyam’s collaboration is crafty and elaborate enough to deliver a pleasant surprise to horror fans who impatiently count the days until Scream VI arrives.
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