Friday the 13th (1980)

I was talking with a fellow movie-loving friend of mine the other day, and the subject turned to horror movies, of which her son just finished watching the first few in the Friday the 13th series.

She said that she kind-of enjoyed the first movie, seeing as how it resembled (if reversed) the dynamic in Psycho (1960).

Huh.

I knew what she meant (as would anyone who's seen both), but that got me thinking; is it possible to over-analyze a movie like Friday the 13th to the point wherein the plot means more than it actually does?

And so here we are, with me about to pick up my virtual machete and dissect a film that probably doesn't deserve the going-over it does, but thanks to my friend (hey out there, friend; I mentioned you in my review!), I feel it is necessary to do so, and perhaps find out what is in this whole Friday the 13th dynamic by examining the nucleus of the whole thing and going from there.

Let's begin.

All right, I'm not going to pull any punches here - I'm going to tell it like it is and spare no one's feelings this time around.

Ready?

The entire Friday the 13th series is based on a movie that was crap to begin with and it got no better with age.

Ouch. Yeah, I know.

Listen: I can hear the Jason fans out there, beating their hockey masks against their PC screens, shouting, "NO! Friday the 13th rocks! You're just a Freddy fan or something, man! You can't see it; Friday the 13th is a great film!!"

No, Virginia; it's not.

I was only a 14 year-old Dope when the first Friday came out and, I swear to you, even at my tender age, I knew this was a ripoff of the far-superior holiday scare-fest Halloween, just 2 years prior. You read that right - Friday the 13th came out just two (2, one + one) years after Halloween. Coincidence? Naw. Quick cash-in? Ooh yeah.

Let's face it; even writer Victor Miller admitted that this was nothing more than a cash-in. He was quick on the draw, gotta give him that, if a little slow on the wit. And yet he created a script that had little more existence than to show teenagers being killed.

That's it.

Oh sure, death of innocent youths were also the basis of many other American-made mad-killers-on-the-loose films such as Last House on the Left and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (the original '70s versions, please) - the only difference in these two films and our subject, of course, is that the other two are regarded as artistic, detailed classics. Three words that have never been associated with any Friday the 13th movie.

But perhaps you are one of the two other people living on a deserted island that is not familiar with what these films are about. Hm? So, allow me to elaborate thusly: At Camp Crystal Lake several years ago, a mentally-handicapped youth is allowed to drown by two inattentive camp counselors. Shortly thereafter, two counselors are murdered and the camp is closed. In the present day (or at least 1980), the camp is reopened and much time is spent by the counselors to get the campsite in shape before the kids arrive. But soon someone is systematically murdering them all. Who is doing the killing? And why? And who will survive?

Simple enough, isn't it? And by the virtue of such a description you may envision an old school murder mystery in the vein of Miss Marple or Hercule Poirot...okay, that may be a stretch but you know what I'm getting at.

That isn't the case, however; due mainly to the fact that the writer and director have apparently seen many a giallo in their day....

Oh. Sorry:

"Giallo" films are characterized by extended murder sequences featuring excessive bloodletting, stylish camerawork and unusual musical arrangements. The literary whodunit element is retained, but combined with modern slasher horror, while being filtered through Italy's longstanding tradition of opera and staged grand guignol drama. They also generally include liberal amounts of nudity and sex.

Okay, so they saw many a giallo and decided, in the vein of a Dario Argento or Lucio Fulci that they could bring more intensity to their little story by ramping up the blood and guts. Which they do, thanks in large to gore makeup maestro/drug vacuum Tom Savini.

What they didn't do, however, was improve their story. Largely because the story is not aided and abetted by the acting nor by the direction.

Think about this: besides the heavy gore and violent deaths, giallos also had the virtue of being directed by some of the most talented directors that Italian film had to offer. Not only Argento and Fulci, but also such luminaries as Mario Bava, Sergio Martino, Umberto Lenzi, Andrea Bianchi, Ruggero Deodato, Aldo Lado and the like, whose legacies stand for themselves.

Friday the 13th was directed by Sean Cunningham. HIS legacy includes a sex comedy starring Harry Reems, a sex drama starring Marilyn Chambers, two kiddie sports-related films and a sex documentary that even got banned in Finland (like most Hollywood movies usually do). Not exactly a sparkling start for a movie like this, but as a wise man once said, even dwarves started small.

Cunningham was in worse trouble, though, for not watching the style and technique of his predecessors in employing interesting camera angles, entertaining color schemes or detailed setups for his actors. Even Dario Argento cared enough about his actors to make them look at least as well-blocked and centered as your average "Tales from the Crypt" comic book character.

Not Cunningham: take for example an early scene where a new counselor comes into town and walks into a local store to ask for directions. It is all done so flat and ordinary that what menace could have been established is gone. No extreme closeups, no tilted camera angles, no sense of what kind of terrors lie beneath the otherwise calm surface of the scene. When a film like this has a cameo by such a terrific face as Irwin Keyes and fails to utilize the menace he provides just by staring at someone, you know something's wrong.

And speaking of actors, the young adults herein have not a hint of irony nor awareness; they might as well have walked in from a Dr. Pepper ad. Even when the killings finally start, it's as if it just doesn't register that all the sharp implements (axes, machetes, arrows, etc.) they are surrounded with in this big, empty camp are possible weapons of their destruction. Of course, maybe that was the idea - a bunch of dumb-as-rocks kids just begging to be offed because of their own bland, vacuous stupidity...yeah, and someone with an axe, too.

No one can escape the fact that one of the big names in this movie was Kevin Bacon. Yep; Footloose. She's Having a Baby. Animal House. That guy. If this was the basis of his whole career, however, it would have ended with him getting an arrow in the neck. Sadly, Kev makes very little impression in Friday the 13th; this was just another episode of Six Degrees for him.

Truth be told, there are only two actors here that make any impression - and neither one of them play Jason. One is Walt Gorney, who plays the prerequisite Crazy Old Coot who rambles and rants and warns everyone that they're "all doomed". His eyes bulge, his voice wails and groans and he pops up where you least expect him, doom-saying and moaning about the Death Curse surrounding Camp Crystal Lake. He makes every scene memorable, that's for darned sure.

And then there’s Betsy Palmer. Bless her heart – she is a good actress and many people questioned her sanity for appearing in a movie like this’n. But if it just weren’t for that car she wanted to buy…. Anyway, she is the other reason to watch this film. I won’t say anything more about her involvement (for the two or three uninitiated ones out there), other than that she has one of the most memorable scenes in the whole thing.

I guess the real star isn’t even a person (sorry, Adrienne King) but instead the idea that Friday the 13th set into motion: modern-day horror movies don’t need a plot, acting or even inventiveness in their soul – just several young people to kill, several sharp or blunt instruments and lots of stage blood. And from the day this franchise took off and made its untold billions, I guess Cunningham and company proved their point.

And it wasn't like anyone learned any lesson from making this film on how to improve their craft. They churned out eleven (!!!!) sequels and a remake of the original for '09. I mean, doesn't Hollywood have any shame at a... oh, wait. I already know the answer. Never mind.

So, class; what did we learn by dissecting Friday the 13th?

Really, it was like biting into a Twinkie that’s been sitting on a shelf for who knows how long: it looked tempting and everything you heard about it was good but it sure didn’t turn out like you expected – in fact, it kinda turned your stomach.

And it's really not good for you, anyway.

Then, apparently, neither is summer camp.

Psycho. Huh.