Ever since Halloween made all the money back in 1978, horror filmmakers have bent over backward to peg scary movies to holidays, and you can’t blame them — it’s the same logic as Christmas movies, i.e., turn your throwaway movie into a perennial, revisited (and re-bought) annually.
Eventually, Aniston and her dreamy chauvinist and his two house-painting partners — a little kid and Francis from Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure, who seem to have an altogether inappropriate relationship — find themselves barricaded inside the farm house, creating something like the worst Night of the Living Dead remake ever.
I cannot guess at where this movie came from and I do not want to try, but the shape of it may have been something along the lines of: in 1991, New Line's A Nightmare on Elm Street franchise was apparently out to pasture for good - this was anyway the implication of the title Freddy's Dead: The Final Nightmare - and if you were kind of dumb, it might seem like this had opened of a slot in the horror movie firmament, as opposed to demonstrating that audiences had lost interest (But then again, who am I to say what's dumb?