The other day I was thumbing through my "Glowering Vixens of Party of Five" multiyear calendar when I realized something: I know just the mediocre slasher to prepare you for Scream 4! Or Scre4m! Or SCRE4M! Or Justin Bieber: Always Say Neve. It's I Know What You Did Last Summer, screenwriter Kevin Williamson's followup to Scream that abandoned wit, subversion, and scares, and replaced them with a slow-ass murderer in a denim Eddie Bauer jacket. Fine, that's terrifying.
I Know What You Did Last Summer follows four North Carolina teens who accidentally run over a pedestrian on the fourth of July, try dumping him in the seaside, and find out a year later that he didn't die. Oops! Worse, he's sort of a pissed-off serial killer now. Our hero is the coast-whispering Julie James (Jennifer Love Hewitt), who never gets over the traumatizing experience even when she goes to college to become a lawyer. Jennifer Lawyer Hewitt. Say it three times. See? It feels normal now.
Julie becomes estranged from her boyfriend Ray (Freddie Prinze Jr.) after the body-dump, which seems impossible because Ray's such a Summer Catch. Julie also loses touch with her best friend, the local beauty queen Helen (Sarah Michelle Gellar) and her hothead boyfriend Barry (Ryan Phillippe).
God, I love an ill-tempered Ryan Phillippe character. Remember when we discussed his skills in 54? He sustains a towering anger level here for no reason. Dude, you look like Kristin Scott Thomas. Please embrace that calm. I promise not to tousle your lemony ringlets.
Julie and her friends reunite to realize they're all receiving mysterious notes about last summer's deed. "I know what you did last summer," the notes read, and Sarah Michelle Gellar immediately worries that it's referring to Beverly Hills Family Robinson. Soon, the notesmith turns up in a fisherman's cloak and mangles a bunch of teenagers (including Johnny Galecki as a wharf-dwelling creep) with a hook. A blockbuster ensues.
I unironically love the casting of I Know What You Did Last Summer; Sarah Michelle Gellar huffs like a Sunnydale sophomore, and I adore her for it. Jennifer Love Hewitt is a digable heroine in her relatable ankle-length skirts and overalls, and she exhibits a vulnerability that I can only describe as "BareNaked." See below.
It's difficult to ignore Hewitt's Party of Five connection with bigger-star-at-the-time Neve Campbell, which only underlines this movie's fun ghettoness. Look, there's former Miss Teen USA Bridgette Wilson as Gellar's sister Elsa, hammering home the ghetto cred. Wilson is a Bad Movies We Love superstar. I'm guessing you've seen Billy Madison and Mortal Kombat more than once, correct? And House on Haunted Hill? Girl, you can tell me anything.
But by far, the greatest thing about I Know What You Did Last Summer (besides, perhaps, Anne Heche's small role as a backwoods pixie) is the killer's identity: He's so un-intimidating out of his black slicker that you don't even yell at the screen. You want to say, "Jennifer Love-Hewitt, you can outrun this guy, and you're wearing the baggiest jeans in the solar system." This film was made during a time when you could literally fall into the Gap for days, remember, as you clawed your way out of a foldy turtleneck fitted for a large dolphin.
Another Bad Movie We Love qualifier: Kev Williamson's dialogue is sometimes kitschier than an Easter basket full of Christmas trees. Take for instance the killer's oh-so-subtle self-reveal. When Julie finds him without his costume and mistakes him for an ally, she tells him she's had a rough night. He responds as such:
"That's a shame. Kids like you should be out having fun, drinking, partying... running people over, getting away with murder, things like that."
Not as skilled an angler when it comes to wit, I see. Of course, I Know What You Did Last Summer does get away with murder: It presents a tame horror story and an attractive cast but leaves out all the spark and finesse that made Scream a classic. An achievement, really. Before I depart, let me reiterate that I'm not complaining about the attractive cast.
Now that's a hook, Kevin.