Which isn’t to say it’s good

Which isn’t to say it’s good, though common standards of quality rarely apply to any film with the number four appended to its title Fendi Sunglasses . To its credit, the Scream braintrust has always known this: In 1996, the ingenious first film in the blockbuster horror-comedy franchise sent up the “rules” of the slasher genre while hewing fastidiously close to them. A year later, screenwriter Kevin Williamson and director Wes Craven reteamed to do the same for slasher sequels, their tongues burrowing far enough into their cheeks to leave bruises. Abandoning the haunted idylls of Woodsboro and Windsor College for Hollywood (not to mention swapping Williamson’s meta flair for new scripter Ehren Kruger’s ham-fisted inelegance) in 2000’s Scream 3, the series folded in on itself to achieve its logical Roberto Cavalli Sunglasses, terrible conclusion: A horror institution without ideas is like its masked killer Ghostface without victims. At some point you just have to put the knife down. Or so we thought. From its first scenes dismissing the Saw series as a one-note torture-porn bloodbath, Scream 4 has more than a decade’s worth of new flesh for the flaying. Back at their respective helms, Williamson and Craven do so with gusto — literally and metaphorically Ferragamo Sunglasses, slaughtering modern horror’s sacred, sequelized cows (including their own) while eviscerating an ensemble young enough to have still had baby teeth in 1996.