If you grew up in the 1980s your pop culture diet was often dominated by slasher flicks: films in which a disposable cast of over-sexed teens would be menaced and killed off one by one at the hands of some relentless, seemingly unstoppable killer. This broad trend of films was dominated by its franchises, featuring a veritable conveyer belt of victims stabbed, slashed, and dismembered by their monstrous villains. The villains were the draw card for these films, and generally their most admired parts, whether Michael Myers in Halloween or Jason Voorhees in Friday the 13th. My personal favourite of the big slasher franchises was, and remains, Wes Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street. Debuting in 1984, and focused on the supernatural child murderer Freddy Krueger, the series managed six instalments by 1991, a spin-off television series, two reboots – one soft and one hard – and a Friday the 13th crossover in 2003. I am frankly surprised Freddy was never afforded a Saturday morning cartoon; he honestly became that large a part of mainstream American culture.

As with most slasher franchises, it took a few films for Elm Street to find its overall tone and stylistic approach. The original film to a large degree stands up best on its own merits: a self-contained supernatural horror film that showcases Wes Craven’s powerful and effective imagination.

A group of high schoolers all begin to experience nightmares about a mysterious scarred man in a red and green jumper and hat. He wears a glove of knives on one hand, and as their dreams progress he seems to have a physical effect on them in the real world. When one girl, Tina Grey (Amadnda Wyss) is violently slashed to death in her sleep, her best friend Nancy Thompson (Heather Langenkamp) begins to investigate the origin of the dream killer: a man named Freddy Krueger (Robert Englund).

There is a strong fantasy element running through Elm Street that separates it from the popular slasher films that preceded it. Its central antagonist Freddy separates himself from other key bogeymen from the outset. For one thing he can talk, and taunts his victims before murdering them. For another thing he has a definitely personality. In future films this will develop into a lot of humour; here in the original he is a much more serious and sadistic figure, and thus a lot more effective in generating frightening set pieces.

Craven’s screenplay leans heavily into dream logic, and he directs the film with a strong sense of what nightmares feel like when people have them. When the violent moments come, they are incredibly gory. Even 40 years later they represent some of the more over-the-top scenes of bloody mayhem Hollywood ever generated.

Heather Langenkamp leads a generally effective cast of teens, with a measure of charm that is often absent from the victims of this genre. Johnny Depp famously makes his screen debut here as Nancy’s boyfriend. Amanda Wyss and Nick Corri are solid in support, as is John Saxon as Nancy’s police chief father. Robert Englund will make Freddy a pop culture icon in time, but here it feels rather like early days. He is a dependable presence, and effectively frightening, but his better performances lie in the numerous sequels.

Both effective and inventive, A Nightmare on Elm Street feels like a milestone in American screen horror. It may not quite resemble the wise-cracking goofiness of the franchise as a whole, but to be honest it represents something genuinely better – and which remains effective for viewers today.