Scream Movies By Release Date

1. Scream (1996) (Very Good)
2. Scream 2 (1997) (Very Good)
3. Scream 3 (2000) (Nearly Good)
4. Scream 4 (2011) (Very Good)
5. Scream (2022) (Nearly Good)
6. Scream VI (2023) (Good)
7. Scream 7 (2026) (Not Very Good)

Scream Movies Ranked

1. Scream (1996) (Very Good)
2. Scream 2 (1997) (Very Good)
3. Scream 4 (2011) (Very Good)
4. Scream VI (2023) (Good)
5. Scream (2022) (Nearly Good)
6. Scream 3 (2000) (Nearly Good)
7. Scream 7 (2026) (Not Very Good)

Review Index

However, I was pleasantly surprised to find that Scream VI proved to be a significantly more engaging and satisfying experience than its re-reboot predecessor. It’s clear that Radio Silence drew heavy inspiration from Scream 2, much in the same way that Scream (5), the first post Wes Craven entry, was an homage to the original. Like part 2, Scream VI strikes a good balance between tension and comedy throughout its runtime. But the film’s high point is on the “horror” side of the ledger rather than “comedy”: It’s a particularly scary sequence taking place on a subway ride, the masses of people a cloud of fog for Ghostface, that ranks among the better stalking sequences in the franchise’s history.

One of the film’s strengths lies in its returning cast of teenage characters, who have dubbed themselves the “core four.” Their development and chemistry are a highlight of this outing, and it’s clear that the filmmakers have put a lot of thought into fleshing out these characters and their relationships. I care about Sam, Tara, Mindy, and Chad almost as much as I ever did Sidney, Dewey, and Gale. Scream VI also brings back Hayden Panettiere from Scream 4, who was one of the best sidekicks in the franchise’s history. (No sign of Adam Brody despite my pleas.)

While it’s a net positive entry in the franchise, Scream VI is not without its problems. And it frankly doesn’t go quite far enough to justify the series ongoing existence. Like all of the other entries in the series (with the arguable exception of the original), the film runs about 15-20 minutes too long, with the result being that the final stretch loses quite a bit of the film’s narrative momentum. But the reveal of Ghostface’s identity is more intriguing and mold-breaking than part 5, which pulled an unsatisfying double-reverse fakeout.

Two other, related issues that plague Scream VI: First, the characters are making dum-dum decisions left and right. It’s the exact kind of horror movie idiocy that Scream has taunted in the past. And when the characters subsequently get stabbed, the movie lets an astonishing number of victims survive. This considerably lowers the sense stakes and danger, making it harder to take the threat of Ghostface seriously. If every main character who gets stab makes a miraculous recovery, why should I ever be scared on their behalf?

Despite these shortcomings, Scream VI is an easy watch, a perfectly decent addition to the reliable franchise, thanks in large part to its fresh setting and strong character dynamics. I would place it in the same approximate tier as Scream 2 and Scream 4, though at the bottom of that tier. It doesn’t reach the same high points as those outings, but it’s a little more consistently tense and engaging throughout its runtime.

Scream VI is an ultimately a satisfying but inconsequential slasher. It has enough connective thread to the rest of the series to satisfy Scream-heads, but brings in some fresh ideas to keep it interesting. Scream may be running out of ways to break new clever ground in its horror meta-commentary, but so long as it can maintain its punchy comic tone and solid stabby scares, I’ll keep watching.

My ranking: Scream 1 > Scream 2 > Scream 4 > Scream 6 > Scream 5 > Scream 3

But, Scream 5 (directed by the Radio Silence team of Ready or Not fame, the first in the series not directed by Wes Craven, who passed away in 2015) is not the best Scream sequel despite that coherency. In fact, I have it near the bottom of the totem pole, above only Scream 3. That’s not really that much of a diss because all of the Screams are solid entertainment, Scream 5 included. I had a good time! It’s tense and scary fun, with some enjoyable characters and performances, and a few memorable moments. A handful of yuks are thrown in for good measure.

On the other hand, I woke up the morning after watching it and had trouble recalling more than one or two distinct features about the film. My short-term memory is not as sharp as it used to be, but Scream 5 slipping from my brain is not due to faulty brain chemistry, I don’t think: For as polished and well-executed as the movie is, it lacks much reason for us to care.

Part of the problem is that the movie’s central thesis is a retread of Scream 4’s: For a movie series that’s this meta, it feels redundant to twice have a story built around the idea that this whole outing is essentially a soft reboot, i.e. a “requel,” as the movie labels itself. And Scream 4 told the joke better, with its hysterical fake-out openings and terrific villain revelation.

There are a few things that work in Five Cream’s favor. The first is that the kills are the most gruesome and creative in the series to date, a tribute to Radio Silence’s background in practical comedy violence. Most of the deaths are straightforward stabbings, but extra nasty: Blades sliding through hands, slowly entering necks, etc. It really escalates the sense the sense of doom and danger of the proceedings. The scares are well-paced, too, doled out steadily during the movie’s runtime. Put another way, Scream 5 might be the best slasher qua slasher of the series yet.

I also think the movie does right by the returning cast, David Arquette as Dewey in particular. It’s the first time in the entire series that I walked away wondering if a Scream movie should have, in fact, given us more Dewey than it did. (On the other hand, Courtney Cox’s  plastic surgery is one of the scariest things in the whole film.)

Scream 5 also features one of the tensest and best scenes in the entire franchise, notable for what it doesn’t do rather than what it does. Near the halfway point, we follow one of the teens we expect to shortly die for four full minutes without a single jump scare or flash of violence until the very end. Just watching him make lunch, get dressed, etc., constantly waiting for Ghostface, the stabby villain of the series, to appear. Trust me that four minutes, whether or not it sounds like a long time, feels about ten times longer since we’re white-knuckled waiting for a jump scare the entire time. It’s a masterful little construction of suspense.

Unfortunately, the movie doesn’t quite stick the landing: The murderers end up being the two most suspicious characters from the start. I think part of the idea is that it’s a sort of reverse twist: by feinting at these characters as the true identities of the murderers, we as an audience expect it not to be them, so the real surprise is that it is in fact these kids who looked suspicious in the first place! Herrings red no more! But in practice, it just comes across as the predictable, boring culprits. (Though I did enjoy the bit of commentary behind their motives; it’s a spin on toxic internet fandom taken to its violent extreme.)

As ultimately unremarkable as the movie is, it’s still a perfectly watchable and competent experience, delivering most of what I hoped for — not something to take for granted in a horror sequel coming 10 years after the previous entry with a new director for the first time. I like the teen cast well enough that I’ll happily watch Scream 6, which has already been greenlit. I just hope that one will give me a little bit more to remember the next morning than Scream 5.

Despite the snark, I actually think Scream 4 is a huge step up from 3 and, honestly, neck-and-neck with 2, at least in terms of entertainment value.

The cast is a hoot. Emma Roberts is charismatic and magnetic, perfect as the reboot star/secret villain (more on that in a sec). So many of the side characters are treasures, more memorable than anyone in 2 or 3: Rory Culkin as repressed B-tier AV club geek (and second secret villain), Adam Brody (aka Seth Cohen) as a rookie cop, Alison Brie as a slimy celebrity agent, the quadri-fecta of Lucy Hale, Shenae Grimes-Beech, Kristen Bell, and Anna Paquin as fake-out opening scene murder victims, and — best of all — Hayden Panettiere as the snotty but lovable best friend/film buff.

The movie leans into its meta elements more than any previous Scream movie, and executes them in a more interesting way. I loved the double fakeout opening as a clever riff on a well-worn trope of the series. And the toxic social media satire is even more potent a decade later in the era of TikTok and Instagram influencers.

The movie’s major twist, turning ostensible new heroine Emma Roberts into the villain, is one I like quite a bit. It takes what would be the tired route — revamping the series in Roberts’ image instead of Neve Campbell’s — and flips it on its head in the sickest way possible. There’s tons of dark comedy in Roberts staging her own near-death in the film’s climax.

There is certainly some narrative sloppiness along the way. I’m completely done with David Arquette’s Dewey at this point, and the hints at marital strife with Courtney Cox’s Gale don’t go anywhere. Some of the new characters get more definition than others, and the pacing isn’t as tight as I’d hoped. (The Scream series should embrace the 90 minute runtime; while the original‘s 110 minutes worked well enough, every one since has felt overlong.)

There’s also the matter of the photography, which is inexplicably ugly. It’s the bad kind of digital photography where everything has a slightly artificial sheen and color grading applied to it. In 2021, this is what we expect of streaming fodder (Scream-ing fodder?), not tentpole theatrical releases. It’s a slight nuisance, but doesn’t really dampen the movie too much.

Overall, Scream 4 is a horror movie that leans into its fun elements more often than not, and has some enjoyable satire, leading to a return to form for the series… one that has me sufficiently excited for Scream 5 in 2022.

It’s a bit of a shame, too, because there are a few seeds of brilliance here. For one, forcing Sidney to revisit the site of her initial trauma, as reconstructed in a film-within-a-film horror set, facing down her demons in a very literal sense, was a genius touch, and executed to harrowing perfection.

But nothing else here brushes “perfection,” even when it dips its toes in intriguing ideas. Assembling a whole set of doppelgangers of the characters via their fake-actor counterparts is a phenomenally fun idea, but ends up a total flop minus the Parker Posey as fake Courtney Cox bit. Posey rules and has great chemistry with the leads, so it’s too bad she’s almost distractingly funny in a horror movie.

The film hinges its plot on some dark, #MeToo-esque casting couch threads… very creepy, considering the movie was produced by Weinstein, the eye of the Hollywood sexual abuse hurricane. It’s an angle that could have been provocative if told in the right way, but what were the odds Weinstein would let it? The movie gets only partway there in teasing out this thread; it doesn’t condemn the practice and the assaulters as much as it should, and does too much victim-blaming and slut-shaming. (In particular, the movie seems to think that Sidney’s mom having a few sexual partners in her life made her someone of repugnant character. It’s misogynistic and mean-spirited.)

The nuts-and-bolts portion of the slasher is still pretty solid, though lacking a bit of the menace and energy of Scream 1 and Scream 2. Ghostface still pops up and scares the shit out of you following 30-60 seconds of suspense in every set piece. And it still works, almost every time. Craven is a master of this kind of tension. And it’s this that keeps Scream 3 away from outright catastrophe — just tune out the dialog and it’s still a damn fun thriller.

An added wrinkle in the plot here is a voice-changing device that allows Ghostface to impersonate anyone. It’s colossally stupid. For all the ambiguity and mystery the device introduces, it sure feels cheap and fake, especially when it mimics long-dead people. (AI would take another 20 years to be able to do what this machine can supposedly do.)

There’s plenty of other bullshit of mixed but mostly of negative value. A bizarre Carrie Fisher cameo is probably the best “what the hell” moment, and the Jay and Silent Bob cameos are probably the worst, with lots of other meta stuff falling somewhere in between.

Last thought, this one semi-positive: Neve Campbell has never been better in the series as she reckons with her trauma and faces down her past. It feels like she’s doing more acting than the movie deserves, especially as it spends so much time thinking David Arquette’s wet noodle of performance should be the lead for most of the runtime.

Scream 3 isn’t bad outright, in fact the scares and high points are almost enough to redeem it. But it’s pretty underwhelming given the series’ pedigree thus far, and its few interesting ideas can’t outweigh the sense of fatigue and try-hard pseudo-cleverness it carries with it.

Case in point: There’s a brilliant staging of a Greek tragedy play in which Sidney hallucinates her killer. That scene is a trip, more dreamlike than anything in the original. The film also ramps up some charged symbolism: One victim descends from the heavens, fastened to a cross like Christ, heightening the sense of cruel fates tugging the strings of Sidney Prescott’s (Neve Campbell) life as much as a masked killer.

There’s some really fascinating sound design this time around, too: A tense chase takes place in a sound booth with noise-silencing but transparent walls, offering a freaky juxtaposition of violence and silence.

The supporting cast is overqualified and significantly better than the original: While none of Liev Schreiber, Laurie Metcalf, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Jada Pinkett Smith, Omar Epps, Timothy Olyphant, Heather Graham, or Portia de Rossi is anywhere near as delightful and unhinged as Matthew Lillard in the original, they’re all welcome additions that elevate the material.

Lastly, I think the movie does more interesting stuff with its “meta”/cultural commentary material than the original, as it’s much more naturally baked into the narrative.

The sequel’s story follows Sidney as she deals with a wave of sudden fame from her recent near-murder (her fame being an obvious proxy for Scream’s success). The killer reappears when Sidney moves to college, and the film is centrally concerned with the way the media and her peers engage with that fame. It’s never anything especially profound or reshaping of our understanding of the characters, but it still provides a nice satirical backbone to the film.

All of that feeds into why I actually liked the oft-maligned identity of the killers, or at least half of them. When Laurie Metcalf’s local beat reporter ends up being a psychopath, it flows nicely with the film’s arc of the dangers of media sensationalism.

It’s not a perfect slasher. For one, it just doesn’t hold together as tightly as the memorable original, with a shabbier overarching narrative. Certainly no segments are as masterful as Scream’s harrowing opening. The film’s 2 hours drag significantly — there’s an element of “get on with it” once you hit the hour mark or so before an exciting final 25 minutes.

Even with those flaws, Scream 2 surpasses my expectations for what a Scream sequel could achieve by broadening its scope, sharpening its satire, and making a few well-considered formal gambits.

But where Scream elevates into greatness is in the nuts and bolts horror stuff that slashers typically are pretty weak on: suspense and violent scares and gut-churning moments or terror. I can see why this rejuvenated the slasher genre and inspired a wave of copycats. Scream is a good entry-point to slashers in a general: It’s a crash course in the way the subgenre can be great, both in the quasi-ironic appreciation for the genre that Scream revels and in demonstrating the tropes that work and reinventing the ones that don’t.

The film’s opening scene is legitimately one of the most suspenseful and chilling segments of escalating terror of any movie I’ve seen. It hops right in with the opening shot and doesn’t relent for 12 minutes. I felt like I was 10 again, watching everything through the cracks between my fingers.

Once the film gets to the story proper, it’s still quite good, too, with an abundance of masterful jump scares. Horror veteran Wes Craven’s blocking and shot construction brilliantly set up the maximum impact of each Ghostface reveal.

The story in wunderkind Kevin Williamson’s script is pretty straightforward, sturdy slasher material, but feels a bit fresher thanks to all of the flourishes on top. A killer is taking out high schoolers one-by-one and has his or her sights set on Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell) whose mother was brutally raped and killed a year earlier.

The wrinkle is that the murderer could be anyone. Unlike, say, Halloween, the killer’s mask also hides a secret identity. Could it be one of Sidney’s friends? Her boyfriend? The man imprisoned for the murder of Sidney’s mother? The local policeman who has connections to the high school class? The nosey reporter? To the movie’s credit, it lets us consider various culprits at various moments.

The casting of the movie is quite good overall: Campbell is solid as final girl, though it would take the sequels for her to really come out of her shell. Courteney Cox is great as Gale Weathers, the reporter. And among the fellow high school students, Matthew Lillard is especially memorable as a wildcard weirdo. Shoutout, too, to Drew Barrymore who appears only in the perfect opening scene.

There’s a bit of a lull in the pace before the one big murder spree at hte climx, but it’s only a little lull, and the last 40 minutes are one gut-wrenching death or surprise Ghostface pop-up after another. I still think the movie would be improved with a few minutes shaved from its 111-minute runtime.

As with most whodunits, the suspense along the way is better than the actual solution ends up being, but the big revelations are still satisfying and iconic. The tone escalates to an unhinged quality near the end of the film, especially in the performances of the villains, bringing out some surprising dimensions in the characters, including some queer undertones that are part of the reason Scream has resonated in the queer community.

Scream is more than just a fun film time, though it is that; it articulates a vision of horror that’s postmodern and hip and quick-witted and teen-focused. I find this to be a pleasing mode for horror, the blend of Williamson’s zippy screenplay and Craven’s suspense chops making for a memorable spooky season touchstone.