Friday the 13th: Revisit the Classic

Welcome to Camp Crystal Lake, 1958. A group of uniformed camp counselors sing hallelujah in a quiet circle. Under a full moon, we move inside a cabin full of sleeping children. The camera slowly moves past each one; a door is opened.

Boy and girl leave the circle and head off to make out. The camera makes its way up the stairs, surprising the two naughty teens. Recognizing the killer, the young man cries, “we weren’t doing anything.” He grunts in pain and falls, his hands covering the bloody wound in his stomach. The girl struggles to shield herself. She wails about in slow motion until we freeze on her screaming, open mouth.

smashing glass

The legend was born in 1980. Just two years after the original Halloween, Friday the 13th introduced the world to Kevin Bacon and the legend of “Camp Blood.” The formula was simple. Twenty years after the tragic killings at Crystal Lake, Steve Christie is reopening the camp. The counselors arrive early to the help prepare for the arrival of the children, Steve is trying to earn a second chance with Alice, and the whole group awaits the arrival of the cook, Annie.

Soon Steve leaves for supplies, night falls, the rain comes, and the counselors, bored and tired, engage themselves in a traditional game of strip monopoly. These kids all get along. They genuinely like each other and their recklessness is made more plausible by their complete trust in one another.

But lurking in the woods is the constant reminder of someone watching. The breathing, ch ch ch ha ha ha, the screeching soundtrack, like fingernails on a chalkboard, the slow, methodical pace of the point of view shots builds the tension. So even as the kids laugh, play, drink, and make-out, the audience is constantly on edge.

But the true heart of Friday the 13th, the reason for its legendary status, is Sean S Cunningham’s ability to create kind, likable victims whose desperate struggle for survival is contrasted by their talk of dreams and future plans. These kids are the good ones. Slaving away over the summer as camp counselors, they are “babes in the woods,” altruistic by nature. They play hard, party hard, and work as little as possible, but it is the summer after all, and these kids have school and home to go back to.

6 degrees of dead bacon

The brilliance of Friday the 13th, the real horror of “Camp Blood,” is that we, the audience, know that these kids are in danger. We watch along with the killer, at first jealous of the freedom of the environment, the complete isolation of youth without adult supervision; but we are also helpless to protect them and ultimately ourselves. We are in as much danger as these kids. “We are doomed if we stay,” but we can’t leave. We have to be here, helpless in our silence; all of our years of wisdom ignored, useless.

The original, almost 30 years later, elicits the same thrills, the same tension, and the same level of horror it did then. Kids still want to have fun, smoke weed, and have sex. Cunningham respects his kids, and the sex is tender and passionate, the games are fun and full of laughter, and the struggles are desperate and painful. Kevin Bacon’s character lies spent in the bottom bunk beneath a murdered counselor, his girlfriend is washing away the sex in the bathroom, the game of strip monopoly is underway, and the rain falls steadily outside.

Bacon lights a joint preparing to relax the rest of the night away. Suddenly, a hand violently wraps itself around his forehead, forcing his head against the pillow. Shocked and terrified, he struggles in vain as the arrow so famously pierces his neck. Tom Savini’s brilliant effects are on display, adding a sense of despair and disgust.

It all unravels so beautifully, like a slow dance amidst impending doom. The audience is always clued in, always one step ahead of the kids. We want to warn them because they are only doing what we so desperately want to do ourselves. It is the ultimate cautionary tale. The legend of “Camp Blood” is society’s warning to its youth; do not race to adulthood. Sex, drugs, and alcohol will kill you. And when mommy, Betsy Palmer, appears during the movie’s final act, things turn form horrific to diabolical. Appearing at first like an angel, she admires her handy work while offering motherly comfort. But soon she is mouthing her son’s words, “kill her mommy,” and chasing Alice around the campgrounds.

what about the boy?

And still, Cunningham’s expertly staged finale transcends time. The slow motion shot of the machete slicing through Mommy’s neck, the head falling to the ground, the torso slowly tilting over as the hands grasp at the air still shocks. But there is more. By now everyone knows what is coming. The shocking ending of the original influenced countless movies to follow, but when Jason rises from behind the boat to pull Alice beneath the lake, it is still a shock.