2025’s I Know What You Did Last Summer cashes in on tired tropes
The trend of Kevin Williamson legacyquels continues, to diminishing returns.
Before we get into the I Know What You DId Last Summer legacyquel, I should be honest with you about my feelings regarding the 1997 original.
Of the Kevin Williamson-penned teen slashers and thrillers that dominated the back half of the 90s, I Know What You Did Last Summer is not the strongest. It ranks just above Teaching Mrs. Tingle — another (indirect) Lois Duncan adaptation — and below The Faculty and the first two Scream films. Even low-ranking Williamson movies are decent fun, and the o.g. I Know What You Did Last Summer is serviceable in that regard, due in large part to its stellar cast of 90s teen heartthrobs.
The 2025 I Know What You Did Last Summer comes to us courtesy of Jennifer Kaytin Robinson, best known for her Netflix movie Do Revenge, a witty, sharp teen flick with Williamson-esque sensibilities. Said sensibilities ought to serve Robinson well here, and they nearly do. Unfortunately, any cleverness is lost amid a sea of surface-level characterization, played-out tropes and callbacks to a movie that barely warrants this level of fan service to begin with.
In current-day Southport, N.C., Ava (Chase Sui Wonders) has returned home (as is Williamson tradition, the parents are conspicuously absent) from college (which one? Doesn’t matter) for the engagement party of her high school besties Danica (Madelyn Cline) and Teddy (Tyriq Withers). Also part of this emotionally-charged reunion are Ava’s high school boyfriend Milo (Jonah Hauer-King) and estranged pal Stevie (Sarah Pidgeon) who’s now working for Freddie Prinze Jr.’s Ray after her (unnamed, unseen) dad absconded with her college fund.
That night, the gang heads out to watch the town’s 4th of July fireworks on the side of the winding highway where, wouldn’t you know it, these high-on-life doofuses cause a fatal accident that’s almost identical to the one in the original movie. Teddy enlists his rich land developer dad (Billy Campbell! The Rocketeer himself!) to make the whole thing go away. Everyone is sworn to begrudging secrecy until a year later, when a mysterious note bearing the titular threat pops up at Danica’s bridal shower.
All the legacyquel goofs are here: a true crime podcaster who serves as the film’s lore-dump expert, crooked cops who refuse to listen to these troublesome young adults, re-introductions of original characters who have a fraught relationship to each other. Check, check, check. Apparently Teddy’s dad has done a thorough job of covering up Southport’s blood-soaked past, so thorough that it involves wiping the events of 1997 from everyone’s collective memory.
There are some good moments in I Know What You Did Last Summer, several of which effectively call back to or comment on the original movie. The aforementioned podcaster has a self-designed t-shirt memorializing Sarah Michelle Gellar’s Helen Shivers that I hope becomes an actual piece of merch. A later dream sequence involves a welcome cameo from an original cast member, in addition to creepy vibes and effective use of a memorable set from the 1997 movie. Prinze Jr.’s character gets a speech near the end of the film that’s almost a meta-commentary on the erasing, confusing nature of this movie and the original movie’s identical titles.
All those brief flashes of brilliance, however, are buried under a metric ton of blandness that only serves to remind audiences that the original movie didn’t offer a ton of uniquely memorable moments itself. The original movie’s characters also lacked depth, though the 20205 quintet’s utter absence of personality makes the 1997 gang look profound by comparison. The film’s killer has only ever been a nautical-themed version of Scream’s Ghostface, and looks even less impressive alongside that recently-rebooted franchise.
The original I Know What You Did Last Summer had its moments, too, but, like its legacyquel, suffered from being a clear cash-in on a trend that its screenwriter helped create, without the self-awareness that helped make that trend what it was. The 2025 I Know What You Did Last Summer suffers the same fate, but doubly so — it’s both cashing in on Scream’s success as a legacyquel and the genre goodwill it’s generated, to unsurprisingly diminished results. Mileage may vary, but there’s nothing here you haven’t seen here before, and Robinson doesn’t even have the good sense to comment on that.