Set five years after the original Nightmare On Elm Street (1984), teenager Jesse Walsh (baby-faced Mark Patton) moves into the sinister Elm Street house with his family – and Freddy Krueger just as quickly moves into his dreams, eventually taking over his body in this damp squib of a sequel.
Melting furniture, eyes peering out from mouths and an exploding budgerigar are director Jack Sholder’s poor substitutes for the meaty terror Wes Craven provided the first time around.
Surprisingly homoerotic in content – Freddy lures Jesse to an all-night gay bar and strips, whips and kills his bondage-orientated gym teacher in the male shower rooms – Sholder’s substandard shocker replaces clever dream imagery with the more conventional theme of possession.
Patton creates a vacuum at the centre of all the dullness by giving a one expression performance.
That the Elm Street franchise recovered from this dreadful and quickly churned-out entry – which largely ignored the mythology which Wes Craven had so expertly introduced in the original film – is a complete miracle.
Jack Sholder went on to become a fixture of direct-to-DVD creature-cheapies.