Scary Movie 2
dir. Keenen Ivory Wayans
Now playing at various theaters.

As a champion of the uneven but undeniable comic brilliance of Scary Movie–a film I stumbled into stoned and staggered out of sore from shock and laughter, one that rewards repeat and even sober viewings–it pains me to tell you that Scary Movie 2 sucks.

And I mean sucks. The Wayans Brothers (unless they’re as stupid as they appeared on the MTV Awards, and the first film was a fluke) know that it sucks. The cast knows it sucks. Certainly the audience knows. Reports from the screening I attended confirm the early exit of a good number of the crowd. (I wouldn’t know. I was the first one out.)

To understand the tragedy of Scary Movie 2, you must first understand the brilliance of Scary Movie. It’s unusual for a film to create and maintain a unified high comic style, but when it happens (Hairspray and Clueless are two beloved examples), it’s heaven. The original Scary Movie can lay no claim to stylistic unity. The movie’s a whore for laughs: shameless, sick, and stupid–but never desperate. The chaos is contained by the script’s mocking adherence to high-school and horror-movie clichรฉs, and punctuated by some truly inspired performances. (If you doubt my sincerity, check out the Shakespeare in Love scene starring the flawless Regina Hall; Meryl Streep couldn’t have done it better.)

But in Scary Movie 2, chaos reigns. This sounds funner than it is. Without a unifying target for its humor, this “over-the-top horror spoof!” almost immediately devolves into the same compulsive desperation for laughs that’s tainted the life’s work of that unbearable freak Robin Williams. How depressing to see Anna Faris, so beautifully earnest throughout Scary Movie‘s parade of indignities, gamely pretending she’s in a half-decent movie. It’s enough to make you flee in horror.

Which I did. For those who believe this premature exit negates my right to review the film, I offer this comparison. During the first 30 minutes of the original Scary Movie, I laugh approximately 38 times. During the first 30 minutes of the sequel, I laughed twice. You do the math.

David Schmader—former weed columnist and Stranger associate editor—is the author of the solo plays Straight and Letter to Axl, which he’s performed in Seattle and across the US. His latest...