"What's your favorite scary movie, Mattie?"

Not Scream 3, that's for sure. In fact, it would rank pretty damn low on my list, maybe even filling out the bottom.

Yep, it's pretty bad, folks. But then, we should have expected this all along. Like the WB Wednesday night teen staple Dawson's Creek, which has been floundering creatively since his departure, Scream 3 suffers largely because Kevin Williamson isn't involved. He's listed as a producer on the film, but it's clear that he didn't even take a pass at the script, to give the turd at least a polished glow. No, he's left some schmuck named Ehren Kruger to mind the store, and Kruger delivers a turgid and uninspired screenplay that leaves the actors and director Wes Craven lost and wandering for most of the film. The first two Screams had sharp dialogue, clever plotting and an unstoppable momentum. On Scream 3, Craven uses all his tricks to give the action some sense of forward motion, but it's a wasted effort, for him and for us. It wasn't even worth his time.

Just as in Scream 2, the third installment finds our trio of heroes trying to move on with their lives after surviving the horrors of a serial killer, until the killer inexplicably returns to force pages of unnecessary plot exposition onto the audience. Sydney Prescott (Neve Campbell) is living in hiding, anchorwoman Gale Weathers (Courtney Cox Arquette) is hosting an Entertainment Tonight rip-off, and her former lover Dewey Riley (David Arquette) is working as a consultant on "Stab 3," the final in a trilogy of films based on the Woodsboro killings. Everything's going smoothly, la de daa, whoop-de-doo, until BAM! Surprise! Someone starts killing the cast of the film--in the order in which they die in the script! But of course, since there are three verisons of the script (to keep the plot from leaking onto the internet--hardey-har-har), no one knows who'll be offed next! Cue the doppleganger killers, some creepy cell phone calls and an inexplicably endless third act, and you've got yourself another post-modern horror classic, right?

Wrong. Let's take a fond look back at the other Scream films, shall we? The first Scream was a brilliant deconstruction of the slasher genre that managed to be self-reverential as hell while still delivering the thrills and chills. It commented on horror flicks even as it succeeded at being one. While the second film wasn't quite as brilliant as the first, it once again had the whole sly self-referential aspecct going for it, based as it was on the story of making a movie about the killings in the first film.

That's all Williamson, right there. Even if you ignore his obvious gifts for characters that seem to pop off the screen, he's a master at creating popular fiction that comments on itself while still delivering in its chosen genre. That's what used to make Dawson's so great (and it was a great show in its prime, so don't go giving me that "teeny bopper mindless crap" bullshit). Williamson could play arch and sly with his scripts and yet offer straight-ahead teen drama with heart. You could take it at face value or rip it apart and marvel at Williamson's convention-bending concepts.

If you choose to rip Scream 3 apart in search of Williamson's trademark satirical touches, you'll only find yourself surrounded by pages and pages of pointless dialogue that takes the plot nowhere and isn't even funny. For some reason, screenwriter Kruger and his producers have determined that where the Scream trilogy needs to end is in a serious, "real" place, minus any wink-wink or nudge-nudge. So instead of concluding with a rousing flick that carries all the strengths of the first two films out to their clear conclusion, they just shrug and say, "Wel, here's a horror film. Take it or leave it. It's the best we could do." It's all so damn pedantic that it makes you yearn for Jason Voorhes to storm onto the scene and show these wimpering twentysomethings what it really means to star in a slasher flick.

Worst of all, the screenplay dares to write checks that its own action can't cash. In one of the few classic Scream moments of the film, Randy (Jamie Kennedy) returns from the grave in a videotaped sequence from his past, where he proceeds to explain the rules of a trilogy and what the players can expect from the final chapter. "In the third film," he says, "all bets are off." He goes on and on about how anything can happen--the lead characters can die, the killer can be someone you've trusted for the past two films, the plot will be full of surprising twists that reveal secrets from the first two films--and then NONE of the interesting things he prepares us for actually occur. Well, that's not true; there are some big secrets from the first two films that come to light, but they're so boring that you don't care.

Otherwise, there are no big shocks, no crazy twists, no lead characters stunningly massacred in the film's opening moments. Instead of ending the trilogy with a bang, it ends with a whimper. Everyone gives up and just delivers an okay slasher flick, minus any of the qualities that made Screams past so fun.

For that, you can only blame the producers, the director and the screenwriter. You can't really blame the actors, who for the most part make the best of the schlock they're paid to create. It's clear throughout the film, for example, that Cox and her real-life husband Arquette are itching to bring some real sparks to their relationship, but like Han Solo and Princess Leia in another famous third chapter, their romance falls flaccid. Campbell glares and weeps her way through another suffering heroine turn, finally cementing her place as the Sigourney Weaver of slasher flicks. And most of the supporting cast is adequate as well.

There are two treasures you might want to watch for in the supporting performances, should you ignore these pleas and decide to subject yourself to Scream 3. Patrick "Puddy" Warburton just plays himself as usual in his role as a starlet's too-cool bodyguard, but the schtick ain't old yet, so it's plenty funny. Even better is the wacky performance delivered by indie queen Parker Posey as the actress who has portrayed the Gale Weathers character in all three "Stab" films. She stumbles her way through her scenes like she's three sheets to the wind and her every expression seems to mock the faux drama of the plot unfolding around her. It's clear she knows the movie is crap and she doesn't care. Her campy melodrama is consistently a blast to watch.

Other than those two tiny diamonds, Scream 3 is pretty rough. It seems to be a classic case of filmmakers misjudging their audience. See, they figured that kids kept coming back to Scream because it was a really good horror movie. That's wrong; what made the other Screams so great was their decidedly un-horror traits, the self-reference and comedy and crazy plot twists. None of those traits are there in Scream 3, so unless you're willing to watch a strong film franchise fizzle away its potential for the sake of a few decent jump scares, you'd be better off renting the first two Scream movies and sparing yourself an unnecessary journey into the cold.