Cast: Jennifer Love Hewitt, Brandy, Mekhi Phifer, Matthew Settle, Freddie Prinze Jr., Jennifer Esposito, Muse Watson, Bill Cobb
Director: Danny Cannon
Producers: William S. Beasley, Stokely Chaffin, Erik Feig, Neal H. Moritz
Screenplay: Trey Callaway
Cinematography: Vernon Layton
Music: John Frizzell
U.S. Distributor: Columbia Pictures
I Still Know What You Did Last Summer (which, to be accurate, should be called I Still Know What You Did Two Summers Ago) is a box office-driven sequel that re-hashes the already-tired approach and storyline of its predecessor, I Know What You Did Last Summer. Both films take standard horror clichés and plot elements, throw them together with little evidence of style or intelligence, and hope people will pay money to see the cinematic refuse that results. If there's a blessing, it's that the sequel isn't appreciably worse than the original - but that's slim praise considering how bad the first one was.
Throughout the history of slasher movies (which more or less began with the release of Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho), there have been all different kinds of mass murderers, from the chillingly deranged Norman Bates to the sister-obsessed Michael Myers and the long-nailed Freddy Krueger. None, however, has been so singularly unfrightening as the Gorton's Fisherman, who, after carving up a group of teens in I Know What You Did Last Summer, is back for an encore, with slicker and hook still intact. Perhaps the most horrifying aspect of the Fisherman's second appearance is that the gross of the original warranted his return. From now on, it's strictly Mrs. Paul's for me.
Also back is Jennifer Love Hewitt, the latest starlet to capture the public's fickle attention. Her performance can charitably be called a bust, which, not coincidentally, is what the camera constantly focuses on. Of course, since we're now in the sophisticated '90s, Love Hewitt never takes off any of her tight tank tops. Had this film been made 15-20 years ago, at least one nude scene would have been mandatory.
Love Hewitt once again plays Julie James, killing spree survivor. It's a year after the traumatic events of the first film, and, although she's off to college, she still suffers from nightmares and is constantly jumpy (her post traumatic anxiety disorder is considerably less advanced, however, than Jamie Lee Curtis' in the recent H20). It doesn't help that her roommate, Karla (Brandy), does smart things like slink around Julie's room in the dark before slipping into her closet and rattling clotheshangers around. This is one of many predictable fake scares that unimaginative director Danny Cannon (Judge Dredd) springs on us. At any rate, when Karla wins a radio contest with a prize of 4 tickets to the Bahamas, she decides that a vacation is just what her on-edge friend needs. So, along with a couple of good-looking guys, Tyrell (Mekhi Phifer) and Will (Matthew Settle), the girls head out to the nearly-deserted vacation paradise of Tower Bay, where the body count is about to start mounting. Meanwhile, before departing for the gore fest, the Gorton's Fisherman has one other little detail to take care of - eliminating Ray (Freddie Prinze Jr.), Julie's boyfriend and fellow survivor, who still lives in his coastal hometown.
Things go pretty much as expected. Everyone whom you anticipate getting filleted eventually comes up on the wrong side of the Fisherman's hook. There are no genuine scares (just lame attempts at them) and little suspense - everything is humdrum and routine, and I almost dozed off more than once. The characters are uniformly stupid (a necessity of slasher movies). A well-timed storm knocks out all the phone lines. The lights often don't work. In fact, all the clichés of the genre come into play - a worthwhile way to pass the time might be to count them (bring along a notepad - there are too many for just fingers and toes). The acting is terrible, but it really doesn't matter, because no one here is developed enough for a good performance to make a difference.
I am at a loss to explain this series' popularity. Is it the young stars and copious gore? It certainly isn't the characters or the plot. Then again, I could never understand the appeal of Friday the 13th, and that spawned seven sequels (with an eighth yet to come). Actually, it appears that the I Know What You Did Last Summer franchise could be on its way to becoming the Friday the 13th of the '90s. Now that's a truly terrifying thought.
© 1998 James Berardinelli