I grew up going to Camp Crystal Lake. By the time HBO became available in my hometown, parts 1-5 of the Friday the 13th series had already been released, and to the eternal gratitude of my curious young mind, were often available during the late nights when the television in my room was supposed to be turned off. I scoured the HBO guide each month, taking notes of when each was playing and then watching them as many times as I could. I delighted in the Tom Savini effects work (in some of them) and eagerly awaited the moments when bare breasts would appear on screen (in nearly all of them). Of course, because it was the 80s when everything from backwards playing records to movies to toys would turn us into pint sized satan worshipers, many adults spoke out against the films rotting our young minds, giving us violent tendencies, and turning us all into dirty little perverts. I’d like to think they were only half right with me. Regardless of the filmmaker’s intent on whether or not to corrupt me, I didn’t care one bit. The movies were perfect escapist fun, comforting in their formulaic tendencies, and giving ten year old me everything I wanted in a scary movie. Unlike kidnappers and pedophiles in dark unmarked vans, I knew Jason wasn’t real and the likelihood of my death at the end of his axe didn’t scare me one bit. Instead I obsessed over the storytelling details from one film to the next. The mythology to Jason Vorhees was nearly as important to me as that of Luke Skywalker, and unlike Star Wars, a new Jason film came out almost every year.
Beginning in 1980, with the release of the Sean Cunningham directed Friday the 13th, Paramount pictures, mostly known for prestige films, bled their cash cow dry, releasing an astonishing eight films in ten years. And who could blame them? Most of the movies had a budget around 2.5 million and grossed anywhere from 15 million to 60 million. The films were breeding grounds for young actors wanting to make a name for themselves (hello Kevin Bacon) and were obviously quick to shoot. But as the decade progressed, the films became less and less financially successful. By the time Jason made his way from Crystal Lake to Manhattan, the grosses, while still profitable, were not making as much because the budgets had been increasing. There’s a whole lot of blame to go around for why that could’ve happened. As the 90’s approached the holy trinity of slashers (Jason, Freddy, Michael) were losing their appeal despite being cultural icons. People were becoming bored with the “formula” although most of the later films in the series had tried some new stuff to reinvigorate their respective franchises. Freddy had a kid. Michael was the work of a cult. Jason fought a psychic and for one film wasn’t even Jason. But many of the fans didn’t necessarily want those changes so the downward trend continued and for most of the studios, that meant a final death.
For Jason, that meant dying, once again, and going to hell.
The first thing you should notice about 1993’s Jason Goes to Hell: The Final Friday is the lack of the number 13 in the title. Turns out, Paramount decided they didn’t want/need the rights to the Jason anymore because they didn’t want to make any more horror films, but at the same time kept the rights to the name Friday the 13th, because you know…money. New Line Cinema, home to Jason’s rival Freddy, scooped up the rights to Mr Vorhees hoping to eventually make a Freddy vs. Jason film alongside original creator Sean Cunningham. In the meantime Freddy and Nightmare on Elm St. creator Wes Craven had returned to the fold to tell his proto-Scream New Nightmare, delaying Freddy vs. Jason (FVJ) for a bit. With some time to kill they decided to make Jason Goes to Hell.
Jason Goes to Hell is not a very good film. I know that there are arguments to be made that none of the Friday the 13th films are good movies, but I’ll have those arguments with you. I’m a big fan of parts 1, 2, and 4 especially, and while the first one owes a large debt to John Carpenter’s Halloween (the writer has admitted to watching Halloween to learn how to write a horror movie) it’s a rock solid film that helps cement slasher tropes, creates the Jason mythology, and has one of the best twist/shock endings in all of horror. Parts 2 and 4 build well on that mythology, ending with the first of Jason’s “deaths,” with hopes to lead the story in new and interesting directions.
But Jason Goes to Hell is not in the same league as those movies. To be honest, it doesn’t try to be. While those movies had the same trappings of young adults frolicking about, getting high, getting laid, and getting dead, Part 9 decides to go somewhere a little different. It starts out nearly the same, as Jason prepares to hack and slash another apparent final girl, but in a ballsy reveal, it turns out to be a trap and Jason is literally bombed by special forces, literally blowing him apart. It appears Jason is really dead, because no matter how strong and determined he is, he cannot put all his pieces back together again. So here comes ballsy move number two.
Turns out Jason isn’t just some overgrown mutant kid with really good healing abilities. Nope, he’s Hell’s assassin and he’s got the ability to move his consciousness from one body to another, starting with the man performing his autopsy and bouncing from one character to the next like he’s in the movie Fallen or The Hidden. Even those saying that the Friday films had gotten stale and predictable could not have seen this coming. Credit goes to director Adam Marcus, who at only 23 years old was given the keys to the Jason kingdom. Instead of Jason traipsing through the usual campsites and trees, this Jason can appear almost anywhere. Sadly though, without the usual iconic hockey mask, it just doesn’t work. I wanted to see that familiar hulking body, waiting for a glimpse at the face underneath the mask. As good as those “Jason possessed” actors were, or could’ve been, they would never be as imposing or as scary as Jason. Not for a lack of trying though.
Marcus does his best to expand the story beyond the lake and create an even deeper, but probably misguided, mythology to the Vorhees lineage. Again, I can’t blame him because I can imagine what insane/idiotic ideas 23 year old me would’ve come up with when given 5 million dollars to play with. Giving Jason a long lost sister given up for adoption might not have been the worst idea, but it certainly wasn’t the best. Jason then needing to possess the body of a Vorhees woman in order to be reborn wasn’t great either. However, he did give us Jason Bounty Hunter Creighton Duke, played with crazy eyed glee by Steven Williams, who teams up with those long lost relatives in order to kill Jason and send him to Hell.
Hence the title.
Likely this film would’ve also been the cinematic death and rebirth of Jason Vorhees if not for one little thing. The film wasn’t well received by fans and critics alike (although I think both were too harsh) and didn’t bring in the money that New Line had expected with their new investment. But that last cinematic shot gave everyone, even those he hated what they just sat through, hope. As Jason was sucked down to hell by demons, only his mask remained in our world. And then we got Freddy…sort of. Just as the movie prepares to fade to black, a familiar green and red sweater clad arm and an iconic glove bursts forth from the ground and pulls Jason’s mask down accompanied by the burnt one’s familiar cackle. It was everything fans had been waiting for and could only mean a battle of the titans was coming.
No one expected it to take another decade for that to happen.
So New Line studios through all its eggs in one basket hoping to give us the modern day equivalent to Godzilla vs. Kong. With both properties owned by New Line, it seemed like everything necessary had fallen into place. Unfortunately Sean Cunningham had final say over all things Jason and New Line honcho Michael DeLuca could axe anything he didn’t agree with concerning Freddy. Turns out satisfying those two creators would end in stalemates for the majority of the decade. I could give you the Cliffs Notes versions of the story but instead I’ll just point you in the direction of the wonderful book Slash of the Titans by Dustin McNeil. For almost 250 pages McNeil goes into all the details and fine minutia of the struggle to get FVJ to the big screen, highlighting the numerous scripts (and seventeen screenwriters!) that attempted to tell the story only to get passed over. FIlled with interviews from a wide variety of creators and personalities, it’s an insightful and entertaining read which gives you all the information anyone would need to know, all leading up to the eventual film directed by Ronny Yu in 2003. Freddy vs Jason would go on to be rather successful, but surprisingly only one film has seen the light of day since, the 2009 remake, which is unfairly maligned.
Looking back on it, it’s strange that a film series that was eponymous with the 80s of my youth has all but disappeared from the big screen in the nearly three decades since, but the reasons for that have been tied up in court for the past several years. Maybe one day all that will clear up and we will once again see a new film. In all likelihood, if it happens, it will be met with equal parts joy and exasperation, everyone complaining that it doesn’t hold up to the older films, and should never have been made.
My voice won’t be a part of that chorus. I’ll be waiting on opening night. Warts and all, these films have always brought me enjoyment, and even the worst ones (cough parts 3 and 8 cough) are worth rewatching from time to time. At this point I’ll take mediocre Friday films over no films at all. The story of Jason Vorhees has become modern day legend, a specific boogyman for the 80’s that was never really given the chance to evolve for modern times and I will continue to hold out hope that we will see his hockey mask clad face on the big screen once again taking on Millennials. Until then, much like I’m doing today, I will wait for those special days of the year when the calendar aligns and watching a marathon of Friday films is not only acceptable, but encouraged.
Happy camping.
