(1985) *1/2
An amazing derailment of a sequel. It's a wonder the franchise wasn't sunk right here. This is a textbook example of taking an original idea and making it like everything else. Young Jesse Walsh is having tepid nightmares because he lives in Nancy's old house. When did this become a haunted house story? It turns out Freddy's excited because now he can possess Jesse and kill people. Oh, jeez.
Freddy already could kill people. He's got nothing to gain by doing it this way, except get his host arrested and have to wait another five years. By this movie's logic, Freddy's big plan has reached complete fulfillment when he gets to walk around the pool going "argh! argh!" and taking swipes at teens in Hawaiian shirts. He only manages to tag two of them, and where's the fun? Where's the sneaking around in the shadows? Where's the Freddy, for pete's sake?
For the record, this is probably one of the most homoerotic of the mainstream slasher movies; there's coach S&M of course, but I also noticed that Jesse's rapport with his friend Ron seemed far more substantive than that with his girlfriend Lisa. Something to look for if you're watching this movie for some kind of contest (which is the only reason to watch it at all).
This is completely bleached of any kind of scare. Every scene in Nancy's old house is shot in full-blasted light, they expect a pissed-off, spontaneously combusting parakeet to be scary (not even a parrot, which would be somewhat threatening), and the climax seemed like an endless tape loop of Lisa's flat, dull sobs.
Bleck.
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