“Copycat” gets thrown around a lot when discussing the original I Know What You Did Last Summer, yet perhaps a more accurate descriptor is “opportunist.” The film was, in fact, rushed into production in light of Scream‘s success, but Kevin Williamson’s script dates farther back. And unlike Williamson’s first collaboration with Wes Craven, I Know What […]
Image: The characters of I’ll Always Know What You Did Last Summer enjoy the town’s Fourth of July fair.
The clean and cinematic presentation of the first two films was distinctly gone as audiences entered the fictional town of Broken Ridge, Colorado (really Park City, Utah). Nearly sapped of all its color and so grainy you can almost reach out and feel it, I’ll Always Know looks outright dismal even before tragedy strikes. The main characters are hardly introduced to viewers when their mention of the infamous Fisherman manifests. The fair’s attendees all flee as the ice hook-wielding threat runs amok, then corners a young local named P.J. (Clay Taylor) on a high rooftop. The situation ends in death as the victim falls below and is impaled by a tractor’s smokestack.
The sequel one-upped the original’s dark setup by going darker and channeling Prom Night; instead of a stranger’s death, the characters killed one of their own. Of course, this was an accident resulting from a poorly executed prank. The Fisherman and his victim were both accomplices, and had a stack of mattresses not been swapped out with a tractor, they would have been basking in the prank’s success. In the vein of the first film, the guilty are overcome with shock and yield to their survival instinct. They bury the evidence, make a pact to never tell anyone of their involvement in the sheriff’s son’s death, and have the police chase after an imaginary killer for the next year. What the four characters didn’t expect, however, was their lie taking on a life of its own.
I’ll Always Know is, essentially, what they now call a “requel,” whereas back then it was labeled a thematic sequel. The story of this entry follows beats of the original; from the characters’ actions to their relationships, nearly every turn is foreseeable. This estranged friend group’s nucleus (Brooke Nevin) mirrors Jennifer Love Hewitt’s Julie. Sad, reclusive, and later desperate, Amber reunites with her partners in crime once the written threat is delivered (by text message rather than letter). Other characters are a bit differently flavored this time around, with the best friend (Torrey DeVitto) now an inspiring frontwoman as opposed to a faded beauty queen, and the ex-boyfriend (David Paetkau) acts more like Ryan Phillippe’s Barry than Freddie Prinze Jr.’s Ray. The fourth and least paralleled friend (Seth Packard) is the most affected by P.J.’s death, seeing as how he is last seen mixing antidepressants with booze, and flirting with suicide before the “real” Fisherman pays him a visit. Another difference among the cast dynamic is the final girl’s unrequited love (Ben Easter) who eventually becomes her knight in distress.
Image: Don Shanks as the supernatural and zombified Ben Willis from I’ll Always Know What You Did Last Summer.
I’ll Always Know lacked an ingredient key to the original’s success and pop-cultural staying power: the cast. Indeed a certain few of these characters exhibit the guilt of their wrongdoing more blatantly than past others in the series, however, the end result runs the gamut from artificial to credible. On the positive side, and not everyone will agree, Sylvain White’s textured, energetic, and raw direction gives the sequel a striking aesthetic. It’s the complete antithesis of the previous films’ glossiness and high production values. By all means the budget is sorely deficient, yet White and DOP Stephen M. Katz (Messiah of Evil) didn’t scrimp on style. For instance, White’s confessed admiration of Bernardo Bertolucci is apparent in some of this film’s most stylish kill sequences.
The story doesn’t rush to reveal the card up its sleeve, but once shown, the ultimate twist shouldn’t come as a surprise. Too much didn’t add up for this to be a grounded slasher like the first two entries. Yet by revealing the Fisherman was really the supernatural form of Ben Willis (now played by Don Shanks), the conclusion feels somewhat more notable. This sequel distills other popular slasher franchises where flesh-and-blood killers are gradually turned into boogeymen and their massacres are repackaged as campfire stories. There was even potential for further appearances of this uncanny Fisherman and expanding his mythology; the pranksters used a hook bought off eBay and delivered from The Bahamas. The legend could have easily coasted on this “curse” device for several more sequels, demonstrating the use of “always” in the title. Needless to say, the Summer IP went into dormancy until a TV adaptation came and went in 2021.
While not undeserving of its criticisms — and there is plenty — I’ll Always Know What You Did Last Summer‘s attempt to evolve the overall story is a little daring. Weirdly so for a film of this caliber and aim. Nevertheless, the swing is never big enough to forgive every shortcoming, but it is an interesting new direction that, as of now, remains unexplored.
Editor’s Note: This article was originally published on July 8, 2024.
Image: Michael Flynn’s sheriff character stands over Torrey DeVitto’s character’s dead body in I’ll Always Know What You Did Last Summer.
