I used to think that there existed, within the 8-part franchise that is A Nightmare on Elm Street, a perfect trilogy. Watching the series bears with it the burden that not all films are up to the task of their incarnations of Freddy Krueger, and on ranking lists, you can often find sequels like Dream Child and Freddy’s Revenge pretty low on the enjoyment rung. But one thing is certain. Three flicks come together and create what one could call “The Craven Trilogy.”
It is in this trilogy that we see the absolute best and most frightening that Krueger can offer. Watching these three in succession is the horror equivalent of Star Wars.
Now, you may be thinking, “Seriously? Star Wars? You’re comparing NOES to Star Wars?!” Yeah, well, I was contemplating comparing it to Lord of the Rings, especially with Peter Jackson’s background in horror, but that felt like a stretch, even if they are both produced by New Line. He is a compelling villain rooted in mythology who is metonymously scarred and driven by a dark side on a crash course with his ultimate adversary. That’s pretty Star Wars to me.
Each film with Fred Krueger and Nancy Thompson facing off—A Nightmare on Elm Street, NOES: Dream Warriors, and New Nightmare—increases the stakes and creates the truest incarnation of the monster that Freddy Krueger can be.
These three feel like a complete trilogy: the first sets the stakes, the second reinvents the rules, and the third, well—if you find yourself dealing with an unexpected backstory and a preponderance of exposition, going back to the beginning and discovering something that wasn’t true from the get-go—you’re dealing with a trilogy (Thanks for helping me with that one, Randy!).
This is likely because all three were helmed by the demon-creator himself, Wes Craven. But that’s not exactly true.
Yes, A Nightmare on Elm Street and New Nightmare were Craven’s darlings. Both bold and original, finding inspiration from real-life horror and epic mythology (I mean, I only know what a tulpa(1) is because of Supernatural, but Freddy in New Nightmare is definitely one).
The middle block of this trilogy is Dream Warriors, markedly one of the most adored sequels in the franchise, and for a very long time, I was under the false impression that Craven was the mastermind behind the whole thing.
But see, I was wrong.
Even after the incredible success of A Nightmare on Elm Street, Craven saw no potential for a sequel and actively voiced his disapproval with the script for Part 2: Freddy’s Revenge. It was rushed and attempted a reinvention that subverted some of the best tropes of the original. Despite finding new life in recent years due to its impact on the LGBT+ community, Freddy’s Revenge was critically lauded, and fans were unhappy with the haunted house/possession take on the Dream Demon. But, it was a box office success, outgrossing the original and solidifying the potential for more sequels.
Robert Shaye, head of New Line Cinema, admitted the sequel was rushed, releasing just eight days to the year after NOES, and he wasn’t ready to give up on Freddy’s potential. Neither was Robert Englund, who perhaps better than anyone (other than Craven) understood the horror that was Krueger and wrote a draft for a third installment called Freddy’s Funhouse.
It was ultimately cast aside by the studio when Sara Risher went to Wes Craven for help. Craven agreed, in part, to continue the legacy of nightmares and negotiate his contract and have a percentage stake in any future sequels. Surprisingly, Craven’s first pitch was much closer to what would later become New Nightmare, with Freddy entering the real world and terrorizing the cast and crew of his films, but the studio rejected it.
So Craven, with his pulse on the societal zeitgeist, pitched a new angle:
“…there are people in the world like you, and if you band together you’ll have more strength…this was during a period when parents were actually sending their kids to institutions. The kids were basically just being rebellious, but they were being treated like they were semi-insane.” (2)
Craven was finishing production on Deadly Friend and knew he would be unable to direct, but that didn’t stop him and writing partner Bruce Wagner from delivering a draft in June 1986. This script was very different from what we know today as Dream Warriors.
After confirming that Heather Langenkamp would return to play heroine Nancy, Craven and Wagner’s script took Nancy on a road trip to find her missing father before coming upon a town where wayward kids are drawn and then committing suicide. It turns out these kids are dream warriors: special children with the potential to fight Freddy the way a boxing champ faces off against opponents with similar skills and less experience. And Nancy, having gone toe-to-toe with Freddy before, helps the kids band together to defeat him.
Craven was under the impression that his first draft was just that—a draft. He thought he would receive notes and input from the studio as they fleshed out the ideas he and Wagner put forth. He thought he would be there for casting and creative decision-making, and his expertise would make him an integral player in the final film. But Craven never heard from the studio again.
This may have been because Shaye and Fisher knew Craven’s schedule was full, but more likely, the reason was the truly dark turn the filmmaker had taken with Freddy. Not quippy or lithe, Krueger’s threats would include sodomy and desecration of corpses. He would sway from his signature “Bitch” to the more vulgar, well…” C-word.” It was a dirtier Freddy, a more uncomfortable Freddy. The studio had concerns that fans – who came back for Freddy – would turn away from that “love-to-fear” relationship to just hating what Krueger had become.
Shaye met with writer Chuck Russell, who had co-written Dreamscape (1984) for 20th Century Fox. He pitched a more fun film, emphasizing dark humor and imaginative dream sequences. Shaye agreed, and Russell brought in Frank Darabont to help write the script (Darabont’s first feature writing credit and launch his formidable career). Russell and Darabont, working on a tight deadline, locked themselves in a cabin for 11 days, took the bones of Craven and Wagner’s script, and fleshed out the story.
They made Nancy a mental health worker specializing in dreams, a career path in line with the trajectory of her character arc from the first film. It also gave her more reason to be at Westin Hills Asylum.
They fleshed out the dream warriors themselves, giving them character traits that matched their dream abilities instead of just having “Freddy-potential” as Craven’s warriors had. It was a change that inspired fans, with Jennifer Rubin’s Taryn inspiring fans to quit drugs and Ira Heiden’s Will encouraging Dungeon Masters across the nation to embrace their geekdom.
They put a different emphasis on Hypnocil, from a drug Nancy was taking but no longer working to an experimental treatment that added drama to the real-world conflicts surrounding the story’s adults. They also gave more screen time to Donald Thompson, played by character actor John Saxon, who had agreed to return to the franchise with Langenkamp.
Perhaps two of the most significant and enduring changes included the backstory of Freddy’s conception as the “bastard son of a hundred maniacs” and the inspiration that Freddy’s powers grow with each soul he takes. This would spark much of the direction of future films and give cause to Krueger’s increasing strength in the series.
Russell and Darabont’s script went into production in September 1986, the same day Langenkamp’s deal closed with New Line (thank goodness we got Nancy!). With a shoestring budget of $4.5 million, not nearly enough for all the effects the script called for, and a preset release date of February 27th, 1987, Russell took the helm as director. He adapted the shooting script to fit the budget and time constraints without impacting the story. They often had four units working simultaneously and three makeup units on top of that.
It was a tense set, with Langenkamp commenting to Fangoria writer Marc Shapiro, “We are under the gun, schedule-wise, and time tends to put a lot of pressure on people and shorten tempers. There have been a few explosions so far, and most of those have centered around the fact that everybody thinks everybody else is not working fast enough.” But even with shooting carrying on right into January, they hit the February 27th deadline for release.
A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 3: Dream Warriors was New Line Cinema’s first national release, and records of the previous film from the studio were subsequently destroyed. With $8.9 million the first weekend, it took the top spot and established itself as the highest-grossing independent release of that time. It hit $44.7 million nationally, making it the biggest New Line release to date. It was back where Nightmare belonged — at the top.
Craven walked away from the film with a story credit and executive producer’s nod, which may have been purely ceremonial, and for years left me circling these three films as “The Craven Trilogy.” One thing retained from Craven’s original Dream Warriors was the demise of Nancy. But Craven’s reinvention in New Nightmare allows her to come back and complete the arc from teenage scrapper to fortified adult to mama bear.
So, truly, these three films arc “The Langenkamp Trilogy.” It’s an arc within an arc, a story within a story, and it’s the backbone of NOES. Nancy’s growth also became an evolution of the archetypal final girl – one who prepares, one who studies, one who doesn’t become the victim but instead the champion of her own story and those around her. It’s a legacy carried over into Sidney Prescott, Kirsty Cotton, and, yes, even Alice Johnson. And the endurance of her character may have been made in A Nightmare on Elm Street, but it was solidified in Dream Warriors.
(1) Just in case you don’t know, a tulpa is a thoughtform brought about by a collective belief in its existence. So, after 6 films and all the fanfare around Freddy, it totally makes sense he would manifest in the real world…and I think Craven knew that.
(2) Wes Craven: A Man and his Nightmares by John Wooley
