I finally watched FRIDAY THE 13TH (1980) on Friday the 13th. Was it worth it?
(Not really, tbh.)
“Did you know a young boy drowned the year before those two others were killed? The counsellors weren't paying any attention. They were making love while that young boy drowned. His name was Jason.”
It’s kind of a given that any self-respecting horror movie fan’s obligatory rite of passage is to watch the original Friday the 13th on an actual Friday the thirteenth.
So it goes that finally, at long last, I have crossed that horror cinema rubicon for myself. (Though admittedly I did watch Marcus Nispel’s 2009 remake on a Friday the thirteenth first, back in 2021, but that’s not quite the same thing as doing so with Sean S. Cunningham’s franchise originator, is it?)
There’s a lot about the first Friday the 13th that I’ve long been prepared for, seeing as most of it’s been unavoidably spoiled for me well ahead of time by sheer pop culture osmosis. Whether through the countless scores of imitators and parodies, the various clip show countdowns of the “scariest movie moments ever” (be they on Channel 4, Bravo, or Shudder, every generation gets their updated/repackaged version of such programmes), the multitude of documentaries about the history of slasher flicks, right on through to the iconic opening sequence of Wes Craven’s Scream divulging to me twenty-ish years ago that famed hockey mask enthusiast Jason Vorhees doesn’t turn up as the killer until the sequel(s), virtually none of Friday the 13th’s stones have been left unturned before now.
What I wasn’t totally prepared for - given the franchise’s laudable longevity, popularity, iconography, and generally beloved standing in the pantheon of horror properties - was finding out that the first film actually sucks pretty bad.
Like, I know there’s a ways to go before you get to the wildest parts of the series where there’s psychics, telekinesis, occultism, resurrections, Corey Feldman, Crispin Glover dancing, the sleeping bag kill, Jason taking Manhattan, Jason going to Hell, Jason going to space, and Jason crossing blades with Freddy Krueger… but to think that that all came to pass as a result of this film?
Frankly, it’s a wonder Friday the 13th became profitable enough to warrant making any of its sequels to satiate audience demand in the first place, because were it not for what I know of its overall legacy as a horror series beyond this point, I’d probably rate this much lower than I already have.
If I squint, I think I can see the appeal Cunningham’s film must hold for people with a nostalgic attachment to its exceedingly simple, straightforward slasher story. There’s an oddly cosy feel to its undemanding plot, abundance of non-subverted slasher cliches (some of which this very film created to begin with, others of which were already old hat when it came out), and the ambience of its autumnal woodland atmosphere captured on the vibrant warmth of 35mm film, even as said cosiness is offset by the screeching strings of Harry Manfredini’s memorable soundtrack, and the tame-by-today’s-standards gore from FX legend, Tom Savini.
And hell, even though I don’t have nostalgia for the film as a whole, I do have nostalgia for growing up with the idea of what the film was like, via seeing the myriad horror films and filmmakers that were inspired by Friday the 13th, not to mention the hyper-specific anecdote of me watching the trailer for it multiple times on a DVD that came free with a 2005 issue of Total Film, filled with hours of trailers for then-upcoming theatrical and home video releases, all of which I watched over and over again. (This was pre-YouTube ubiquity, so this was the only way to watch all those trailers so readily, you understand.)
But I’m sorry to say that no amount of tangential nostalgia, respect for its influence, or babyfaced Kevin Bacon playing a guy with my name, can dissuade or blind me to how glacially paced, shoddily edited, badly written, poorly directed, cornily acted, and achingly un-scary I find Friday the 13th to be. And what’s worse is that, in what may be a blasphemous opinion to share, I think the ‘09 remake is actually the better film of the two.
Yes, the Michael Bay-produced version may be a lot glossier, more juvenile, and excessively ramped-up in the explicitness of its sex and violence, but at least it has some energy to it! There’s urgency, there’s knowing campiness, there’s style, and perhaps most importantly, there’s Jason!
Call me sacrilegious if you must, but that’s just how I feel.
I wanted to know what the original Friday the 13th was like, and watch it on the selfsame day it gets its title from.
Consider my curiosity quenched.
Ah, it's not very good. But at the time it was kind of a novelty, bringing European slasher standards to an American horror film.
I dunno about the comparisons to the 2009 film. They had so many more resources, and so many more sources of inspiration, only to produce that beer-commercial-slick junk. Maybe it's (I think this is the right term) engineered in a superior manner. But it's talented people with middling intentions, versus the original's talentless architects with a bit more ambition.
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