The pillaging of horror movie vaults continues with this loose, surprisingly decent reboot of the 1980 original, which is best known now for the presence of a fresh-faced Kevin Bacon and for spawning an unstoppable series of mostly lame sequels. Michael Bay’s Platinum Dunes Productions, the team behind the recent remakes of Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Amityville Horror, makes ample use of series’ long relationship with an entire generation of horror movie geeks, a fact both creatively cynical and undeniably nostalgic.
Director Marcus Nispel has put together a cast of mostly unknowns — former Pop singer Willa Ford is the most recognizable face — all of whom head to Camp Crystal unaware that it’s the home of a hockey-mask-wearing killing machine named Jason Vorhees. Working from a script by Damian Shannon and Mark Swift, Nispel plays up the series’ B-movie origins, delivering a parade of topless young females and hunky dudes whose sole mission is to get high, get drunk and get laid. It’s not long before this good-time crew makes the mistake of crossing paths with a psychologically damaged madman bent on getting revenge for the death of his mother nearly 30 years earlier.
In contrast to the unrelenting brutality of the genre’s recent pedigree, Friday the 13th is actually pretty funny, including an unexpected homage to David Lynch’s Blue Velvet and a playful, matter-of-fact view of gays, marijuana and sex that would have Pat Robertson frothing at the mouth. And while the inevitable, one-by-one demise of Jason’s victims generates a fair amount of tension, the clichéd climax goes on way too long. And, of course, it leaves the door open for yet another resurrection. Grade: C
This article appears in Feb 18-24, 2009.
