Picking up a few years after the previous film, we find that Charlie has been undergoing psychotherapy. His therapist has convinced him that his neighbor was really a serial killer, rather than a vampire. So, he goes and throws out all of his crucifixes and holy water and stakes. He's cured, right? Well, . . . no. No sooner does Charlie do all of this than he's back to seeing people carrying coffins into buildings and women sucking the blood from his friend's wrist.
And, that, My Dear Reader (as Peter Vincent would say), is the whole problem with this sequel: The story is both rushed and convoluted. Nothing is allowed to develop. Charlie starts out absolutely sure, that there are no vampires. No, wait! Now, he's sure there are. Nope -- back to being sure there aren't. And -- poor Peter Vincent -- he's caught in the middle, with Charlie telling him to go away . . . no, come here and help . . . no, just seeing things, go away . . . If there were filler material to show development and build tension, then the back-and- forth might have been much less annoying to me than it was.
Except for one scene with a vamp roller-skating down a hallway, I did not find anything to creep, shock, or scare. It's just such a boring redux.
The vampire this time is "Regine," the previous vampire's sister. She intends to get revenge for her brother's death by making Charlie into a vampire. Then, she can torture him forever (which really doesn't make any sense to me: How does she intend to torture him?). She makes vague threats towards Peter Vincent, without seeming to have any urgency about carrying through on them. Her major coup is to get Vincent fired in order to take over his T. V. show. Why? Was drawing an unemployment check the kind of torture about which she was speaking? (The lines at government offices can be long, you know. And, that paperwork. Oh! the paperwork.) It makes no sense whatsoever. In fact, it's completely lame.
On the positive side, however, FRIGHT NIGHT II is immensely better than the turd excreted by Colin Farrell or the insipid "sequel to nothing," FRIGHT NIGHT II: NEW BLOOD.
And, that, My Dear Reader (as Peter Vincent would say), is the whole problem with this sequel: The story is both rushed and convoluted. Nothing is allowed to develop. Charlie starts out absolutely sure, that there are no vampires. No, wait! Now, he's sure there are. Nope -- back to being sure there aren't. And -- poor Peter Vincent -- he's caught in the middle, with Charlie telling him to go away . . . no, come here and help . . . no, just seeing things, go away . . . If there were filler material to show development and build tension, then the back-and- forth might have been much less annoying to me than it was.
Except for one scene with a vamp roller-skating down a hallway, I did not find anything to creep, shock, or scare. It's just such a boring redux.
The vampire this time is "Regine," the previous vampire's sister. She intends to get revenge for her brother's death by making Charlie into a vampire. Then, she can torture him forever (which really doesn't make any sense to me: How does she intend to torture him?). She makes vague threats towards Peter Vincent, without seeming to have any urgency about carrying through on them. Her major coup is to get Vincent fired in order to take over his T. V. show. Why? Was drawing an unemployment check the kind of torture about which she was speaking? (The lines at government offices can be long, you know. And, that paperwork. Oh! the paperwork.) It makes no sense whatsoever. In fact, it's completely lame.
On the positive side, however, FRIGHT NIGHT II is immensely better than the turd excreted by Colin Farrell or the insipid "sequel to nothing," FRIGHT NIGHT II: NEW BLOOD.
