Let's be straight here: If you don't like scary-horror-slasher movies, stay away from Scream.

But if you've put up with countless lousy rip-offs of Halloween and Last House on the Left in hopes of recapturing the spine tingle of the originals, step right this way.

Cleveland native Wes Craven, the legendary horror director who scared a generation silly, and screenwriter Kevin Williamson recapture the genre's subversive energy.

The wicked, gory, stylish and self-referential story follows a murder spree in a small town that begins with a late-night phone call to a teen-ager (Drew Barrymore) by a stranger who asks ''Do you like scary movies?''

Turns out that's a critical question for the many victims who will bite the dust before the identity of the killer is revealed, after a twisted plot that manages to shed suspicion on almost every character.

Among them are an aggressive tabloid-TV reporter (Courteney Cox), a level-headed teen (Neve Campbell), her alternately spooky and sensitive boyfriend (Skeet Ulrich), her best friend (Rose McGowan) and the town's dim-bulb deputy (David Arquette).

The movie loops back on itself in all kinds of clever ways, playing off the oft-repeated ''rules'' of scary movies, such as ''Sex equals death,'' and ''Never say, 'I'll be right back.' ''

It's been a long time since a teen-slasher movie has offered up anything but dull buckets of gore. With Scream, the genre reclaims its roots.