OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets


Friday the 13th (1980)

This, ladies and gentlemen, is my own feeble attempt to bring the Friday the 13th franchise right into your living room... or rather, onto your screen, wherever that may reside. In my case, that's the living room, so I naturally assume that this is where your main machine (in case you have more than one and are as obsessed with PCs than I am) is. Why did I get this idea? Well... my evening didn't go as planned (Hint: Do NOT mix Zyprexa with Psychopax. It will make you sleep like a corpse. A dead one.), and so I thought I might as well do something productive. Sitting through all the Friday the 13th movies I own seemed like a good idea. At that point, anyways.

Friday the 13th - who hasn't heard of the movie yet? Created in the glorious year of 1980 (that is... ehm... a few years before I was born, actually - but hey, it's my job to glorify the past*, so I can safely say that!) by Sean S. Cunningham, the man who is also responsible for Last House on the Left (a classic if there ever was one, and with me being the proud owner of the DVD, a review should be coming up at some point in the near future... promise!), the House movies as well as, you guessed it, Friday the 13th.

Sean S. Cunningham - we love you. Without you, the slasher subgenre of horror wouldn't be what it is (was) today. Why do I use the past tense in parentheses? Well, you know... back in the days, everything was better. Especially when it comes to slasher flicks. But I digress.

There really isn't much to say about the plot - some young adults are at Camp Crystal Lake, and there, they get killed off one by one. Point. Just in case you weren't familiar with the... eh... plot (for lack of a better term).

But because this would be one awfully short review with just me summing up the plot, let's do this another way: Say hello to the medium of screenshots!**

This is Camp Crystal Lake - one of the most beautiful areas around the world that you can imagine if you want to see a scenic lake, beautiful woodland areas, some decorative mountains, decrepit huts and young adults/teenagers being slaughtered. Note that the year is 1958 - and indeed, something tragic is about to happen...

Two of the camp councelors are leaving the evening full of merriment, making music, singing songs about Jesus together etc. - why, you may ask? Well... you'll see.

But one thing is for sure: I, personally, wouldn't trust this full moon. It has that lovely tint of blood to it, which always makes me suspicious when I'm playing a role in a slasher movie. Not that I ever played a role in a slasher movie... but you catch my drift.

Alas, back to the nameless couple (I am sure they actually have a name, but my attention span tonight is a bit too short to care about the names of vict.... errrr, couples. Couples.). What might they be up to, pray tell?

Of course. Of-fucking-course. As soon as the children are out of the way, those hormone-ridden young people have nothing better to do than to sneak into a shed and start kissing more or less passionately.

Of course, it doesn't just suffice for them to stand around whilst sticking their tongues down each other's throats. No, they have to get a blanket - apparently, sheds come fully equipped with love-blankets... you know, in case someone decides to sneak out into the shed in order to make sweet, sweet love... on the ground. With the blanket. No, not making love with the blanket.... making love on the ground with the blanket as a safe place to, you know, do the nasty on. After all, blankets are sanitary.

But nothing stays as sweet as it is, and so our happy, nameless couple meets a grisly demise...

One knife to the stomach, and something which I can only assume to be another knife to... somewhere (possibly the throat?) - I can't tell you how the girl dies, because after we get to see a close-up of her screaming face, the movie fades to a blinding white (thank you, Friday the 13th, for forcing me to watch this with my sunglasses on... *sighs*)... followed by:


HallelĂ»-jah***, as someone of a more religious persuasion than myself could be tempted to say.

And now, the movie finally starts (in "Present Day"... aka 1980). I have to admit that, when I watched it the first time, Friday the 13th already had me hooked at the first kill (poor guy from nameless couple, as pictured two screens above, also known as "knife-to-stomach-guy"). And now, years later, it's still the same. I just like the movie. So, for all the purists of 80s slasher flicks out there: You may hate me for my intense dislike of John Carpenter's Halloween****, but at least accept that I am still a big fan of Friday the 13th and Nightmare on Elm Street. Thank you.

This is Crazy Ralph***** (Walt Gorney - born in this very city I am residing in - Vienna! See, we produce the best actors over here... Kudos to Gorney. I'm a big fan... so R.I.P., man...). I just love the guy more than words can convey. What better life than to warn others about the Death Curse of a place where children are supposed to enjoy themselves?! In a decidedly creepy way at that. Gods, Crazy Ralph truly is my favourite character in the whole frigging movie.

Did I mention that Crazy Ralph also locks himself in cupboards at Camp Crystal Lake, just to nonchalantly step out of them in order to deliver his message of doom that none shall live who are in this cursed place? Man. What a nifty character. If I ever get old and wrinkly, I want to do that sort of thing as well.

One of the girls that is supposed to work at Camp Crystal Lake (sorry, I can't bring myself to call it Camp Blood... it always has been Camp Crystal Lake in my mind, and shall always remain that) hitches a ride with a friendly lorry-driver. At this point, I want to draw your attention to the screenshot above.

Notice anything?


What about his hands tenderly pressing her ass whilst "helping her into his vehicle"?

I don't know if that was okay in 1980, but man, it creeps me out every time I see it. Sweaty, fat hands... ewwwww. Maybe it's that double-X-chromosome of mine, but damn, the thought makes me squirm in disgust.

The young lady in question is brought to a crossroad, where she can exit right in front of the beautiful and scenic cemetery in order to walk down to Camp Crystal Lake. Call me paranoid, but the cemetery does definitely not bode well... verily.

Once again, our young lady in question tries to hitch a ride... which works. The only problem is that... oh, well. She has to jump out of the driving car, and after a truly enjoyable hunt through the woods (I particularly enjoy the camerawork employed in this scene), my paranoid feeling of stuff not boding well for aforementioned young lady gets paid off:

Told you. I wouldn't have gotten into that car. So that's one slit throat more in our inofficial killing list. I'll possibly do a ranking later on... but that's just an idea which I might not necessarily follow through with.

However, you have to admit that Camp Crystal Lake is very scenic when the night falls down...

As night has fallen, the councelors of the beautiful and scenic camp are trying to spend their time in a variety of ways.

Two of them opted for doing the nasty together in some sort of shed. At least I call it a shed, the fine differences between different kinds of wooden huts out in the middle of some freaky (but scenic!) wood next to a scenic lake are really lost on me... and that although I grew up in an even more scenic, woodland-infested area next to a scenic lake. Then again, I might just have drowned out any memories on the fine details of... sheds.

Our two lovebirds are completely oblivious to one of their buddies sleeping a very final sleep on the top bunk of the bed in which they're... you know. Doing it. Getting all hot and steamy, and so on.

Meanwhile, back at the place of social gathering and fun here at Crystal Lake, the remaining three young adults are drinking beer (le GASP!), smoking (I can't express the level of terror I am feeling at the mere thought... *rolls herself a cigarette*... yes, that was sarcasm. No, not the cigarette-rolling. The stuff before that... oh well, forget it...) and playing - you won't believe it - STRIP MONOPOLY! Now if that isn't deviant behaviour, I don't know what is...

Back at the place where the two lovebirds are doing the nasty, something goes horribly, horribly wrong...

One arrow through throat...

...and in the outhouse where the girl in question went to make herself a bit more presentable after the steamy action, we get one death by axe to the forehead.

Now for something completely different: Meanwhile, at the...

Steve Christy (Peter Brouwer), the man who actually owns and runs Camp Crystal Lake (way to go with a career choice, Steve), is having a cup of coffee.

I am only including the screenshot of this terrible, terrible creature here because it reminds me of the aliens from Killer Klowns From Outer Space (a cult classic - look out for the new Bloodsucking Zombies from Outer Space stuff, there's a nifty song of the same name on it). Just FYI... and just because I went like "HOLY SHIT, IT'S ONE OF THE THINGS FROM KILLER KLOWNS!" when I watched it tonight.

Meanwhile, the fun carries on to be had at Camp Crystal Lake, Killer Klowns from Outer Space or not (I apologise for that, but seriously... look at the screenshot above. If you are in any way familiar with the movie I am referring to, you'll see how uncanny the similarity is).

One other thing that we learn from Friday the 13th is that, no matter how bold your fashion statement - for those of you who are slightly colour blind: The guy pictured above wears a bold combination of green, red and white stripes and caros on his shirt... *shudders* -, you're still not save.

In fact, you might want to reconsider your choice of shirt in the future... if you had a future, that is. That shirt resp. its owner make for another death by arrow(s).

Our Final Girl (you know it - there's ALWAYS a Final Girl, and we could pick her out right from the beginning) has figured out that something nasty and terrible is happening - which leads to her chickening out.... errrr, I mean, panicking in an understandable way.

However, I don't know about you, but... if you were locking yourself in a small wooden shed which has windows, would you spend minutes of your time by using one (1) rope, one (1) tree trunk, one (1) box and three (3) chairs to do nothing but amateurishly barricade the door? I don't know about you, but that seemed a tad stupid to me. Especially since she left the windows completely unprotected. But... *shrugs*... whatever floats your boat in situations of life and death, I guess. Or...

What the kitteh sez.

Well, we get to see two more dead people: One is the female that I can't really sort... oh, wait. She's the one that was stupid enough to walk out into a storm in nothing but her nightgown (ah yes... back in the days when decent young women still wore nightgowns after playing a heavy party of strip monopoly... I so understand this... not). What happened to her, you might ask?

That. I am not entirely sure if she's still alive or not, because her head moves a few times and I am pretty sure I saw her breathing, but that might just be the actress in question and not the intended effect by the producer.

We also get to see Steve Christy again... you know, the guy who was having a cup of coffee at the diner I was graciously showing you above. Only that I like him much better when he's dead.

As for the climax... well. It's not Jason, as you might have been led to believe if you've never watched the movie, but instead his mother, the delightfully deranged Mrs. Voorhees as played by Betsy Palmer. Mrs. Palmer... you'll always be Jason's mum to me and a lot of other people. And we thank you for it, you creepy lady.

The end...

...or is it?!

7.75/10 arrows being used to kill someone after sex from below the bed. Man, Mrs. Voorhees is one scary lady... remember to check your beds, kids!

* Ancient history student. At a real university. Which means I can kick your ass when it comes to the Ancient Near East... or the Neolithic.

** I apologise for the annoying "Paused"-icon in the upper right corner of most of the screens. I recently switched my OS back to Ubuntu 7.10 (less issues than 8.04, and trust me, I know what I'm talking about) due to various reasons (like me working on a 64bit machine), and I have yet to figure out how to get rid of that stupid icon. So... yeah. Sorry.

*** "Let us praise Jah" - and "Jah" is short for "Jahwe". I hope that any Jewish readers I might have are not insulted. I just try to enlighten and teach... mainly because it pisses me off to no end when people make stupid jokes about this sentence. Hello Höllus - yes, I mean you (not that he'd ever read that).

**** Carpentry by John Carpenter. Annoying use of soundtrack by John Carpenter.... AAAAAAAARRRRHHHHHHHGGGGHHHHH! >< ***** /me giggles