Wes Craven blurs the boundaries between dreams and reality in his groundbreaking, artery-slashing piece of mid-Eighties horror. Bookended by the infamous kiddies’ rhyme (‘One, two; Freddy’s comin’ for you…’) much of the key action takes place in a terrifying variety of dreamscapes that any child (or adult, for that matter) would do best to avoid. Of course, obeying Horror’s Third Law of Motion, no one does this, and most are picked off one by one in a selection of horrific treats; slayings which are made all the more unpleasant by the knowledge of Freddy’s unsavoury past.
In between the murders are some stunning special effects (the scene where Freddy threatens to burst through a bedroom wall is a stand-out) and genuine characterisations of our sleepless teenage crew of Freddy fodder. Add to this a truly repulsive anti-hero-in-the-making and the eery ease with which Craven can turn dream into reality, and you’re left with a modern horror classic.
