Horror sequels are notorious for their mediocrity. While exceptions like Evil Dead 2 and Halloween III: Season of the Witch exist, they are rare diamonds in the rough. For every successful sequel, there are countless forgettable ones. In the A Nightmare on Elm Street series, the third installment, The Dream Warriors, is generally considered the best sequel, but for many, A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child stands out as a unique and daring entry.
Released in 1989, The Dream Child was a commercial flop, failing to match the success of its predecessor, The Dream Master. It alienated fans by venturing away from the conventional slasher thrills of its predecessors, instead embracing a surreal and abstract approach. The film blends elements from the works of David Lynch and David Cronenberg, creating an experimental horror experience that stands out for its audacity and ambition.
Right from the outset, The Dream Child sets a distinct and otherworldly tone. The title sequence features abstract shapes bathed in a cool blue light, accompanied by an electronic score that establishes a strange, dreamlike mood. These shapes are later revealed to be Alice (Lisa Wilcox) and Dan (Danny Hassel), the sole survivors of the previous film, setting the stage for the film’s exploration of the connection between dreams, sexuality, and motherhood.
The Dream Child eschews the traditional horror film formula of shock value and gore for a more introspective and psychological approach. It delves into the anxieties of impending motherhood through the lens of Alice, a young woman who is pregnant with the child of her deceased lover. The film explores complex themes such as abortion, the power of the subconscious, and the fear of the unknown.
The film’s most striking sequences involve Alice’s interactions with her unborn child, Jacob. When Alice undergoes an ultrasound, she witnesses Freddy feeding Jacob the souls of his victims, a disturbing visualization of a mother’s anxieties about her child’s well-being and the alien nature of pregnancy. The film also tackles the controversial issue of abortion, with Alice refusing to consider ending the pregnancy, believing Jacob to be a part of her, even though it would effectively eliminate Freddy’s threat.
The Dream Child culminates in a surreal battleground that reflects the disorienting and chaotic nature of Alice’s subconscious. She confronts Freddy, who has become an embodiment of her fears and anxieties, in a series of upside-down staircases and grotesque physical transformations. In a memorable scene reminiscent of Cronenberg’s body horror, Freddy emerges from Alice’s own body, illustrating the visceral and terrifying nature of her internal struggles.
Ultimately, The Dream Child is a flawed film, but its flaws are part of what makes it so interesting. It’s not a perfect horror film, nor is it a flawless narrative. But it’s a film that dares to be different, exploring complex themes and anxieties with a unique visual style and a willingness to embrace the surreal. It’s a film that, despite its shortcomings, has a lasting impact on the A Nightmare on Elm Street franchise and the horror genre as a whole, paving the way for the “Elevated Horror” movement that emerged decades later.
The Dream Child is not just another Freddy sequel; it’s a testament to the power of experimentation and the potential for horror films to be more than just mindless entertainment. It’s a film that rewards those who are willing to look beyond its flawed exterior and appreciate its ambition and originality.
