73/100

The metaphor of Freddy as child abuse seems to come to a peak here, in the most heartwrenching fashion imaginable. Rather than the direct trauma inflicted in the first(the second is a detour as a metaphor for queer repression), this film instead turns to the lasting effects of it. We are looking at a cast of characters, after unending trauma, who find themselves in a mental ward. Each of them every bit as forgotten there as they were in their homes. What's strikes me immediately is the apathy of the nurses -- not only do they hold utter disregard for the patients' wellbeing, they go so far as to blame them for their suffering, "He disappointed us. He let us down. He let us ALL down". It's heartbreaking but sadly real as every day victims are ignored and blamed for their own traumas. What's so soul-crushing about this film is the glimpses of freedom; in their dreams, there are brief moments of self-fulfillment, only to be met with deaths exactly replicating that which they sought to overcome. The bodies pile up as each and every child is ignored, blamed, and ultimately left for dead. Here their deaths come presented as suicides, as I'm once again left with the question, is Freddy real? It's much more scary if he isn't.