The Street of Terror, Part 3: 1666 begins where its predecessor ends. But while it may seem like a simple trick to complete the Netflix trilogy, it’s actually a measured narrative risk. The story unfolds with a astonishing precision, and also completes its journey with an ingenious look at terror.
If the two previous feature films had incompletely told a larger story, the third completes it. It’s a wink-filled plot with hints of effective cultural allegory. Together, the film takes a journey through what I had already raised and takes it to the next level. He does it from a brilliant composition of the sense and the way of telling terror.
If the first and second parts were picturesque metaphors about fear, The Street of Terror, part 3: 1666 takes the historical setting and transforms it into tragedy. Plus, it uses all the usual movie tropes about curses, witches, and sorcery to create a complex, well-structured, and coherent plot.
The risk of a flashback based on memories could have resulted in a break in rhythm and tone. But Leigh Janiak makes The Street of Terror, Part 3: 1666 valid speculation about an origin story that holds the entire trilogy. If in La calle del terror, part 2: 1978 the director had played with the structure of the slasher, for the closing of the story she chooses to delve into evil.
And he does it with a careful metaphor about fear, prejudice, hatred and the terrifying. All without losing its common trunk and the need to tell a story that spans almost five centuries. In the previous two films, Janiak created a structure consistent with all types of references, that integrated with each other managed to sustain an incomplete argument.
For La calle del terror, part 3: 1666, the gaze becomes more penetrating and terror is everything. Gone are the mere hints about the supernatural. And the plot embraces the mystery and the haunting to its full extent. With hints of folk horror to the gore, the Netflix movie is a precise conception of latent danger.
The quality of the script to unite several different parts of a whole makes the film have a careful plot. Nothing is accidental in this journey towards the terrifying. Much less, towards the center of the enigma that has made Shadyside the center of a centuries-old tragedy. And Janiak, showing off all kinds of resources and script twists, knows it.
‘The street of terror, part 3: 1666’, the box of all mysteries
Sarah Fier is a witch, or at least she is believed by everyone who lives in the colony. Janiak begins his story with an almost naturist look at the town of Shadyside, or at least where it will be in the future. With a tension similar to that created by Robert Eggers for The Witch, the camera goes from one side to another to narrate the paranoid fear. Janiak makes the journey a sketch of the world Sarah must face.
The construction of the story has much of the oppressive climate of Nicholas Hytner’s The Crucible (1996), from which Janiak takes the claustrophobic atmosphere. With its small-scale reconstruction of the mass hysteria caused by witchcraft, The Street of Terror, Part 3: 1666 plays with the pieces of information. Much more, when most of the characters are in the midst of the horrified certainty that something is happening. Danger ties in with something more primitive and powerful as Sarah discovers the real threat.
It is then that Janiak makes the decision to create a rarefied atmosphere in which fear is everything. With clever use of the subjective camera and an accent on invisible terror, the supernatural takes the place of suggested terror. But first, Janiak has raised a series of dilemmas that turn the story into a circular narrative in which each plot thread is completed.
The Sarah of the past suffers the inevitable doom for who she is and what she stands for. At the same time, the connection with the future is evident. And before the great supernatural secret is revealed, it is already evident that the witch’s condemnation is much more of a punishment. It is also an act of exclusion and a direct way of relating the history of the past with that of the future.
The firm thread is consistent enough not to appear forced or artificial. It is about dilemmas that explore Shadyside and his curse as a reverse of some other hidden terrors in the shadows.
But in the end, The Street of Terror, Part 3: 1666 is a horror movie. A brilliant, well-built one that on this occasion does not hesitate to introduce all the necessary elements to establish a dialogue with the fearsome.
The past and the future converge in neon colors
For its third and final installment, the Netflix movie splices its first and second parts into a single story that progresses smoothly. The central mystery is explained and once it comes out, the script wastes no time moving towards the final resolution. At the risk of telling a story whose pace changes in the middle, Janiak found a way to link the two pieces of argument into something bigger.
The street of terror, part 3: 1666 then becomes the gore thriller that it promised in its first part. With the information of your little transit to the past in tow, the story is woven through consistent threads toward a well-constructed ending. It is, without a doubt, a journey that could collapse as an incomplete and disorderly story. But instead, it creates a brilliant conjunction of elements that sustain the trilogy.
For his final scene, The Street of Terror, Part 3: 1666 proved that he is a worthy closure for a risky Netflix experiment. With its carefully crafted little play brilliance, Stine’s adaptation is more than just a fine cinematic achievement. It is a new way of relating terror that, without a doubt, can open the door to a whole new journey through the codes of the genre.