Legacy sequels are not a new invention in the horror genre. The 2020s have seen several horror legacy sequels keeping the same name as their predecessors and retconning the canon to revitalize the franchise for a new generation of movie-goers. We have seen this with the Halloween, Scream, Candyman, and Texas Chainsaw Massacre franchises. All of which kept the movie title of the original installment (minus the 2022 TCM movie, which dropped “The” and made “chainsaw” one word again) and removed nearly all installments after the first from the canon (minus Scream 2022, which is a continuation of Scream 4). 

Slasher fanatics are getting a new legacy sequel with the fourth installment of I Know What You Did Last Summer (IKWYDLS) hitting theaters this July. So far, we know that there will be legacy cast members returning, and it is expected to be a direct sequel to I Still Know What You Did Last Summer, according to Variety. Based on its horror franchise cohorts, here are my predictions for the new IKWYDLS movie. 

Spoilers ahead for Halloween (2018), Candyman (2021), Scream (2022), and Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2022).

Legacy Cast Turned Harbingers

Legacy cast members are not being hunted down yet again, but they now offer knowledge and a warning to the new class of fresh meat. The previous survivors and final girls now evolve to a different horror movie trope: the harbingers. 

We see this in a few movies. Laurie Strode warns her family in Halloween 2018. Dewey accurately predicts the killer to be Amber and Richie in Scream 2022. Anne-Marie discourages her son, Anthony, from uttering the word “Candyman” and reveals that the hooked-handed legend is the real danger in Nia DaCosta’s Candyman (2021). 

The first trailer for the new IKWYDLS shows Ray urging officials in a town hall to take the events seriously. In the second trailer, Julie shares her final girl advice not to be a passive victim and identify possible motives to narrow down who the new deadly fisherman is. I am looking forward to seeing a seasoned Freddie Prinze Jr and Jennifer Love Hewitt reprise their roles and hopefully be engaging harbingers.  

Previous Final Girl Becomes The Real Danger

In their role as a harbinger, the legacy final girl is back for blood. This is extensively shown in Halloween 2018 as Laurie Strode is now a firearms specialist and has designed her home to be a trap for Michael Myers. The sequence of her hunting for Michael in her house in the third act is unforgettable and bad ass. Sidney Prescott (and Gale Weathers) spoil Ghostface’s plan in Scream 2022 simply by showing up to the murder party.

Yes, Ghostface did want Sidney there, but they were very unprepared for how tactical she would be and not take the bait on tricks that a new slasher survivor would. Sidney was fine with shooting first and asking questions later!

Sally Hardesty (played by Owlen Fouere) makes her first return to the TCM franchise in the Netflix 2022 Texas Chainsaw Massacre legacy sequel. She has been trying to track down Leatherface and his family for decades, and finally gets her chance for revenge. An interesting take on what she has been up to for the past nearly 50 years. 

Julie and Ray could be the power couple that the new survivors need. After all, they did evade and clumsily defeat Ben Willis in the 1997 movie. They made up for the clumsy execution with a more impressive effort in I Still Know What You Did Last Summer by Ray traveling to an island to fist fight the father-son duo while Julie unloaded a revolver into Ben Willis.

Both demonstrating they have learned from their first encounter with a murder and not taking second chances. I do not expect them to play the wait-and-see approach in the new movie. 

The Legacy Death

What keeps horror hounds coming back to slasher franchises are the kills. Fans of slasher flicks want to see their beloved Michael Myers or Leatherface hack away at the youths who break horror movie rules. However, the shock and surprise come from meaningful deaths, and this does lead to fan favorites getting the axe (or chainsaw). 

Dewey loses his plot armor in Scream 2022 as Ghostface recognizes, in a meta way, the importance of his death by saying “It’s an honor” as his corpse hits the floor. Sally finally finds her prey, only to receive a chainsaw in the abdomen and to be yeeted into a pile of garbage (I’m still salty about this). In Candyman, while he may not be considered part of the “legacy cast”, Anthony McCoy is still an important returning character. He meets his demise after William Burke saws off his hand, and the Chicago police later slay Anthony in a poignant scene. These deaths make the audience feel the gravity of the situation and fear what is now possible for the new cast. 

I Still Know What You Did Last Summer left us with three possible legacy characters returning: Julie, Ray, and Karla (played by Brandy). Trailers have not revealed a Brandy cameo, but it is not out of the question for her to return as the sacrificial legacy death. I personally believe there is a bigger chance for Ray to meet his end, similar to Dewey. While all filmmakers hope for audiences to fall in love with their new characters, any financial success will likely warrant a sequel that will need to feature Jennifer Love Hewitt to keep the slasher fans excited. Fingers crossed that Julie makes it out of her third run-in with the vengeful fisherman. 

I Know What You Did Last Summer hits theaters July 18, and I’ll eagerly be seated to see what trends this new addition has to offer to the slasher legacy sequel canon. 

The Dissonance of Queer Horror Fandom

That being said, to enjoy the genre, Queer horror fans face significant dissonance in embracing these films. While finding great pleasure and connection in the genre, Queer fans simultaneously find themselves faced with many moments of casual cruelty and bigotry in a genre that also revels in an often toxic male gaze and slings homophobic slurs about with little thought to the collateral damage the viewing audience might experience.

Take Ronny Yu’s Freddy vs. Jason (2003) as an example. Most Queer horror fans will know the infamous scene in question. Kia (played with iconic early aughts flair by Kelly Rowland) confronts Krueger and draws his attention to her in a moment of heroic friendship to allow her friends to reach safety. She taunts him, asking, “What kind of a faggot runs around in a Christmas sweater.” A character who simultaneously embodies much of the strength, style, and charisma that many a Queer fan would embrace chooses to use our identity as a form of attack. Do we applaud her bravery? Do we cheer for her death to punish her casual homophobia? Can we do both? Such is the dilemma of the Queer horror fan.

Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker: A Troubling First Glance

At first glance, William Asher’s film Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker (1981) checks the boxes on all the trademarks of insensitive, bordering upon cruel, portrayals of the gay identity we might expect from film in the early 1980s. The gay couple featured in the film faces a tragic end. One partner, Phil, is brutally murdered and framed as a sexual predator. Of course, he is the first death in the film, a fate so often reserved for such tokenized cast members. His grieving partner, Tom, is forced out of his job at the local high school and also accused of sexual perversion.

One of the film’s main characters is Joe Carlson, a proudly homophobic police detective who drops frequent gay slurs and equates homosexuality with sexual predation. The main love interests in the film are our protagonist, Billy, and his girlfriend, Julia. They represent the quintessential heteronormative love story. Blonde hair and blue eyes. Innocent and in love. Everything society suggests we might wish for our youth.

As a gay viewer, it is challenging, but not surprising, to watch such content in film. However, ambivalence moves in both directions. A film that on its surface appears supportive can cause harm. And in the case of Asher’s film, could a story that at first glance appears so wantonly cruel to the community actually be the most affirming gay horror film you’ve never seen?

Deliberate Inclusion of Queer Themes

What is intriguing about Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker is that the Queer subplot could have easily been excised from the film with very little impact to the plot. A psychosexual horror film exploring the incestuous obsession of an aunt toward her young nephew and the murderous lengths she will go to to keep him in her life provides more than enough fodder to carry a feature-length film. The inclusion of Billy’s mentor and coach, Tom Landers, his secret relationship with partner Phil Brody, and Detective Carlson’s obsession with linking Billy to the murder as a way of covering up an imagined love triangle is, on first watch, jarring. Queer characters and plots were still very rare in 1981.

This was an interesting historical period of time that existed after the fight for freedom, represented by the Stonewall riots of 1969, and before the AIDS epidemic, which was just beginning to be reported in the summer months of 1981. Significant strides had been made to fight for basic human rights of the LGBTQIA+ community, but they were still very much marginalized and invisible, particularly in media representation.

Filmmakers’ Empathy for Marginalized Communities

The writer’s and director’s choice to include an explicitly gay subplot was clearly deliberate. And that makes more sense considering the background of the staff who brought this film to life. While no one involved in the creation of this film appears to have been openly Queer, their personal backgrounds make it clear how they could have empathized with, and been supporters of, such marginalized communities.

Co-writer Stephen Breimer was adopted and openly discussed his interest in using this film to explore the ambivalence that comes with not knowing one’s biological roots. And two of director William Asher’s most well-known works beyond this movie were the sitcoms I Love Lucy and Bewitched. Two properties that, while not explicitly Queer, have long enjoyed a deep connection to these communities who see themselves reflected in the strong women who defy the norms of society and the patriarchy. The filmmakers clearly held the Queer community in high esteem.

Found Family and Queer Intimacy

LGBTQIA+ audiences will also connect with the themes of found family and surrogate parental figures which are deeply present in this film. Particularly in Billy’s relationship with his basketball coach, Tom Landers. There is deep love and intimacy in their relationship, but it is never sexualized or suggested to be improper. In the film’s bloody climax, his coach is the first phone call Billy makes. Tearfully, he tells his coach: “I need your help.” Any parent will recognize the love and trust implicit in this phone call and Coach Landers’ immediate willingness to come to his aid.

Landers’ willingness to support Billy throughout the film is frequently reminiscent of the caregiving that a parent (biological, adoptive, or otherwise) would provide. He encourages Billy’s journey to seek a basketball scholarship. He resigns from his coaching job rather than drag his students, Billy included, further into the personal drama perpetuated by the homophobic police force. And in an act of painful personal sacrifice that only a parent could understand, he even provides evidence to the police in an effort to corroborate the story that his lover may have attempted to rape Aunt Cheryl.

There is clearly no truth to this story, but Coach Landers is willing to sit with the pain of tarnishing the name of his life partner and their relationship if it means a chance to help Billy escape this situation unscathed and go on to live his life fully.

Subverting Heteronormative Expectations

The comparison of Coach Landers’ support of Billy is juxtaposed frequently with the more heteronormative parental figures that surround him. His Aunt Cheryl most obviously. On paper, she should represent the loving mother figure that society suggests all young boys need. However, the film wastes no time demonstrating the darkness behind her “love” of Billy. The first scene they share depicts Billy as a three-year-old boy sobbing uncontrollably in her arms. And flashes forward fourteen years to show her waking him up for school. She uncomfortably purrs into his ears and draws her nails seductively along his back. She later drugs Billy. With milk of all beverages, the ultimate symbol of a mother’s love. At no point does the film suggest that this heteronormative family system is healthy or in Billy’s best interests.

The final frame of the film instead leaves him in the presence of his gay coach, a man who has been labeled as a deviant, predator, and sick man but who has shown himself to be anything but. A brief scene in which their neighbors are shown comforting them in the aftermath of the first murder also highlights the insufficiency of the heteronormative family in supporting Billy. “Maybe you should go with him,” his neighbor says to her husband when Billy steps outside to get some air and try to process the shocking murder that has occurred in his home. “No. I don’t think I better,” he responds. Choosing instead to sit in quiet discomfort as this young boy suffers.

Again, the heteronormative family fails to provide the care and compassion which Coach Landers is able to give so instinctively.

Detective Carlson’s Harmful Antagonism

Detective Joe Carlson is the other potential caregiver presented to Billy in this narrative. Similarly to Aunt Cheryl, not only does Detective Carlson fail to provide any support to Billy, but he actively causes harm to all those around him. This is highlighted in a scene where he stops by the family home to question Billy on the murder. Billy is playing basketball in the driveway, and Detective Carlson takes the ball and plays with him briefly, even offering some pointers on how to shoot a better free-throw.

But this scene is played with no sense of parental caring. Instead, Detective Carlson mocks Billy and weaponizes his coach’s homosexuality against him. Throughout the film, Detective Carlson uses gay slurs to refer to Billy, Tom Landers, and Phil Brody. While the language is uncomfortable, a Queer audience can always detect the intention behind the use of such language. In the aforementioned Freddy vs. Jason, Kia’s use of the word “faggot” feels cruel and unnecessary. And the filmmakers confuse the messaging further by positioning her as a hero in that moment. In Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker, there is no ambivalence in how we are meant to view the use of such language from Detective Carlson and Aunt Cheryl.

They are the clear villains of the film, and their language is clearly used to tell the viewing audience how misguided they are in their understanding of what it means to be a gay man.

Redefining the Real Monster

In a particularly interesting element of this film, the creators chose to extend the ending beyond Billy’s victory over his murderous aunt. In a typical slasher film, the movie would have ended with her death, as Billy grapples with the trauma of having impaled her upon a fire poker in his fight for safety. But the film continues and brings Detective Carlson back onto the scene where it becomes clear that he, rather than Aunt Cheryl, is the film’s true monster.

It’s the homophobic detective who Billy must kill to end the story. And notably, he does so with the help of Coach Landers rather than his girlfriend, who only arrives on the scene after the villain’s death. This storytelling subversion tells viewers who the filmmakers see as the true antagonist of their story and who are the sympathetic heroes.

A Tender Portrayal of Queer Grief

The generous lens this film grants to its gay characters is evidenced no more clearly than in the scene in which Detective Carlson first confronts Coach Landers with his knowledge that he and Phil were lovers. He points out their matching rings and takes glee in pointing out Tom’s inability to openly express his grief or even receive his lover’s personal belongings without outing himself. 

A lesser film would not have included such a scene at all or may have played it simply as a plot twist to shock the viewers. Asher instead directs the scene in such a way that the camera lingers upon Coach Landers, allowing the actor (Steve Eastin) to portray this man’s grief in a way that is understated but powerful and as loving as it is tragic.

A Multifaceted Queer Horror Classic

It is a small but powerful moment in a film that might otherwise be written off as a campy and forgettable eighties popcorn flick. And it is exactly this balance in the film which makes it an essential entry in the canon of Queer cinema. As is the beauty of many horror films, it can be enjoyed on multiple levels.

Choose to tune in for Aunt Cheryl’s scenery-chewing spiral into murderous rage, portrayed to perfection by Susan Tyrrell exuding “Baby Jane” energy in a way that only a Queer audience could fully appreciate. Or choose to peek beneath the surface and find a surprisingly poignant and intimate depiction of the challenges of existing as a gay man in a society that will not accept you.

And the power of found family in helping us all navigate the dangers of our world and coming out the other side stronger than before.