Tuesday, March 3, 2009

crystal tits and all this gore.

Thank the maker for midnight showings and double doses of Calpol....we'd never get a night out without them.

Friday the 13th (2009)
Dir: Marcus Nispel
Cast: Jared Padalecki, Aaron Yoo, Danielle Panabaker, Amanda Righetti, Nana Visitor, Travis Van Winkle, Ryan Hansen, Willa Ford, Julianna Guill, Nick Mennell, America Olivo, Arlen Escarpeta, Caleb Guss and Derek Mears.

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It's a wet and wild Friday June the 13th way back in 1980 and an hysterical, tight t-shirted camp counselor is being chased thru' the mud by a mad middle aged woman in a turtle neck sweater and a pound shop Beatles wig.

It would appear that little ms. counselor and her pals were way too busy shagging, supping booze and smoking 'the reefer' to notice that this mentalist mum's ball headed son, Jason Voorhees (Guss), had fallen into the water and drowned, leaving an (understandably) distraught Mrs. Voorhees (Visitor in a blink and miss it cameo, well to be honest it's too short for a cameo, more of a cam) to take the camps complaints procedure a wee bit too far and kill everyone using a huge machete.

Before moving in for the kill, Mrs. V decides to rant at the sopping wet poor girl a bit more, giving our plucky heroine an opportunity to wrestle the machete from her and behead the raving middle aged loon instead.

As she wanders away into the woods, her ample bum cheeks glistening in the rain, a stooping, huge head boy emerges from the bushes and takes the dead woman’s weapon....

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Guss: Bawheid.


Flash forward to 'the present day' and a group of annoyingly quirky teen buddies, including the high hairlined, sensitive Whitney (Righetti, star of the hit teevee show The Mentalist, nope i've never heard of it either) are enjoying a weekend vacation getting away from it all and camping in the woods.

Two of the pals have their own agenda however. You see rumor has it that there's a huge crop of Marijuana hidden somewhere in the woods and they plan to find it and sell it, becoming richer than a fairly rich man who sells dope along the way.

Whitney, feeling even more sensitive than usual due in part to her mum having cancer (what? character development?) heads off for a walk with her equally as sensitive yet unfortunately pube haired beau Mike (Mennell, from the cinematic abortion that was, and still is Rob Zombie's Halloween remake). It's not long before they come across the battered and ramshackle remains of an empty summer camp; the name plate says Camp Crystal Lake.

Meanwhile back at the campsite the party atmosphere is hotting up, there's much flashing of stone-like fake boobs and some heavy boozing whilst the non-cool teen, Jeff Hashman tells the spooky story of the beheaded mum out to avenge her sons death and and how her son was actually still alive, watching silently as she was killed, and that he still roams these very woods.

And on that note he decides to head off (alone) to look for the Marijuana grove.

Jeff has no sooner stumbled into slacker heaven when he finds himself face to chest with a huge, hulking figure of a man, clad in filthy denim, an old pair of orthopedic shoes and wearing a recycled canvas shopping bag on his head before being impaled on a tree.

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"Steven!"


Whitney and Mike are still busy exploring the summer camps dilapidated cabins when they discover a child's bed with the name 'Jason' engraved in the headboard, a collection of whistles and small locket with a photo of a huge headed wee boy and a lady in it.

Mike remarks how similar Whitney looks to the lady and places it around her neck.

Good job he didn't compare her fairly large brow to the kids melon sized head tho', I'd have found it difficult not to mention it myself.

Over at base camp the tents are swaying to the sound of sweaty shagging and even more close-ups of America Olivo's frankly terrifying fake breasts swaying solidly in the wind like two breeze blocks tied to some old, vinegary rope.

We're saved from this evil vision (which is possibly the reason for the films R rating) when the young lovers hear a rustling noise from outside.

Could it be Hashman having a sly Barclay's in the bushes?

Or is it Mr. Baghead getting ready to slaughter some teens?

Take a guess.

Wanting to impress his girlfriend the brave boy heads outside to look, quickly stumbling across the marijuana crop before discovering his pal pinned halfway up a tree.

Running back to the camp he comes a cropper in one of Jason's makeshift booby traps, surviving just long enough to see the bag-headed one lift his girlfriends sleeping back and drop it into the campfire.

Again and again, stopping only when she's well done.

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"Just coming!"



While all this senseless violence is going on, Mike and Whitney are still exploring the cabin (it must be like the TARDIS in there), coming across a unique (if not slightly strange) bathroom feature guaranteed to be the talk of any dinner party.

You see, just above the sink in a candle filled shrine they find the remains of Mrs. Voorhees head.

And you complain about buying a mothers day card.

Without warning the cabin door slams shut and Mike is stabbed by a mystery man poking a machete thru' the floorboards.

Whitney can only look on and scream.....

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Olivo: Fake breasts,
ickle pointed witch chin.


Cut to a few months later and there's yet another group of expendable college kids heading to the lake for a weekend break, this time at the family cabin of curly topped, snub nosed rich 'kid' (although he looks around forty) Trent (Van Winkle).

Tagging along are his cutesy girlfriend Jenna (Panabaker, famous for playing Julie Stark in the James Woods teevee hit Shark and having ginger hair and pigtails whilst appearing opposite King Kurt Russell in Sky High), their friends Nolan (Owen Wilson-alike Hansen), the square jawed, shelf arsed Chelsea (former 'bad girl of pop' Ford) and cheesy Bree (Guill) alongside token minority pals Lawrence (Escarpeta fresh from the Frankie Muniz HoopLA Celebrity Basketball Event) and geeky stoner Chewie (Yoo).

Stopping for petrol, crisps, milk and a Lion Bar they come across chisel chinned biker bad boy Clay Miller (Padalecki, Sam Winchester from that show Supernatural that everyone seems to rave about), who's in town to look for his missing sister (that'll be Whitney then). The local townsfreaks have been less than helpful, telling him that she probably fell in a big hole or ran away to join the circus and even the police seem intent on getting Clay to leave town.

Do they have something to hide or are they just pissed off with him blu-tack-ing 8x10 glossies of his sis everywhere? I mean, for fuck's sake he's even pinning them onto dogs!

Feeling his place as the movies testosterone fueled 'manly man' being threatened, Trent faces off to Clay in an exciting manbreast to manbreast showdown in the middle of a corner shop.

The winner gets served first.

Someone, anyone just kill them now and have done with it.

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Ford: Somewhere to park your bike at least.


Anyway, Clay moodily rides off on his bike (but not before he and Jenna have cut each other a few smoldering looks) whilst Trent, his bullet shaped nipples and his rent a pals continue on to his dads cabin for an enjoyable weekend of 'the sex', boozing, getting stoned and possibly getting butchered by a mad bloke with a machete.

Arriving at the cabin and getting ready to 'party on' as you young things say, Jenna soon excuses herself and takes a walk outside (probably to escape from her boyfriends eggy breath) whilst Chelsea and Nolan decide to borrow Trent's boat for a wee bout of water sports down by the lake.

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They may look happy now but
just wait till the mooth shite-in starts.


As Jenna is enjoying a moment of quiet calm who should come a riding past but Clay. You see he's heard that there's a tree a few miles down the road that isn't covered by pictures of his sister so he's off to sort that out right away.

Thinking he could use a drink she invites him into the cabin but as he's about to enjoy a cool glass of weak lemon drink Trent appears in the kitchen, his eggy breath instantly turning the drink sour and sending Jenna and Clay hurrying out into the garden.

Sitting in the porch listening to Clay chatting away about his recently deceased mother, bad lad past and missing sister (don't knock it, as a chat up line it seems to work), Jenna offers to help him have one last look around the woods suggesting that they should probably have a closer look at the abandoned summer camp (you remember, the one with the ball faced, bag headed mentalist living in it) too.

I mean, what could possibly go wrong?

Meanwhile Jason has gone to the local corner shop for some provisions (and maybe a new bag) but mortally offended by the distinct lack of king sized Snickers on the shelves (and the buck toothed bumpkin owners habit of licking porn mags - talk about knowing your target audience) decides to kill him instead and steal a hockey mask....

Chelsea (stripped down to a rather impressive pair of big granny pants and an ill fitting bra) and Nolan (remember them?) meanwhile are enjoying a bit of water ski-ing on the lake, oblivious to the hulking figure watching from the shore.

Well, oblivious that is till he fires a dirty big arrow thru' Nolan's head causing poor Chelsea to fall off her ski's and cry a lot.

Swimming to shore and hiding under a pier, she fails to notice that her arse is sticking out a good three foot at the side, giving Jason an easy target to aim at.

The mask obviously restricts his vision tho' as he stabs her in the head instead.

Back at the summer camp compound (try typing that when you're drunk), Clay and Jenna seem to have made a day of it as it's now gone all dark, mist enshrouded and spooky. Wondering why the police never bothered to check the place for his sister he's just about to phone and ask when a lumbering figure shambles out of the bushes carrying a corpse inside a bin bag.

Clay and Jenna hide behind a tree as the hockey-masked madman dumps the body down a trapdoor before legging it back to Trent's to warn everyone that there's a killer on the loose.

A killer with a ginormous bonce.

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Jason's romantic gesture of taking a lady up the
casino failed to get the result he hoped for.



Things are also hotting up back at the party tho', Trent and Bree have retired to the bedroom for some hot (re: sweaty arses, stroke victim faces and cries of 'do me bad boy') lovin', Chewie is sitting around getting stoned and Lawrence is attempting to have a wank over a copy of TV Quick (unfortunately tho' Lorraine Kelly isn't on the cover).

Luckily for him, Clay and Jenna arrive just in time to stop him cracking one off over a picture of the cast of The Golden Girls (it's a tribute issue), Jenna follows the stale smell upstairs to Trent whilst Clay goes to phone the local sheriff.

Unsurprisingly the phones are dead and it's not long before the power goes and the body count starts a-rising...

It seems Jason doesn't take too kindly to people messing around in his bush....


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Amelia's initial reaction to news of a
Friday the 13th remake.

After dry heaving up the cinematic bile that was 2003's The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (and don't forget he also made the video for Cher's cover of Walking In Memphis among other classics) Marcus Nipsel surprises us all by remaking a great film for the evil that is Michael (I might be rich but my shit stinks like no-one elses) Bay's Platinum Dunes company and it turning out not to be (too) shite.

Yep, after making such an arse of the aforementioned Texas Chainsaw Massacre, managing to make The Amityville Horror remake even more awful than the original and defiling the memory of The Hitcher as one would the body of an elderly relative they seem to have struck gold with this one.

Only problem is that it doesn't actually feel like a Friday the 13th movie till way past the halfway mark. True the cast is adequate, it's nicely shot and the kills are pretty good but it has something missing.

Yep that's it.

Jason Voorhees.

What was wrong with the lumbering, bawheided bonkers boy with the mommy complex we've all come to love and cherish over the last three decades? And whose idea was it to replace him with a reject from The Hills Have Eyes (quite literally), all quick and nimble with a thing for booby traps and underground lairs?

That'd be writers Damien Shannon and Mark Swift then, and as much as I'd love to shout heresy at the pair and accuse them of not knowing/caring about the mythos established in the previous movies it's pretty difficult seeing as they were responsible for the pretty fantastic Freddie Vs. Jason.

And more importantly doing that would make me look like a friendless, greasy horror geek.

Interestingly tho' whereas they seem to be happy enough to completely re-invent the character traits of Jason Voorhees (what? I used the words character traits when reviewing a Friday the 13th movie - spooky) for a new audience the movie is also littered (almost to breaking point) with so many references to the past as to make it look like a condensed, greatest hits package.

Which is all well and good if you're cribbing from parts one and two but gets a wee bit worrying when you're stealing wholesale from Part 3 (and not even the 3-d bits).

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"Can you smell cabbage?"

Like I said earlier tho' it's not all bad, there are stand out performances from Arlen Escarpeta and Aaron Yoo who manage to make a stoner and a chronic masturbater genuinely likeable characters whilst Danielle Panabaker deserves a special mention for having such a cutesy button nose.

As for Derek (the big baldy tongue mutant in The Hills Have Eyes 2, what do you mean you couldn't sit thru' it?) Mears portrayal of Jason, well as an actor he makes a great stuntman. He has the size and the build but absolutely no screen presence, turning the scary as hell man in the mask into, well, just a man in a mask.


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Iggle Piggle's not in bed....


Still it's a darn sight better than Rob Zombie's Halloween and, if you can get past the (mainly chav-tastic) teen audiences shouting "No fookin' way man" at every oportunity that seem to congregate in cinemas these days and forget you're meant to be watching the relaunch of a horror classic then there are worse ways to spend a few hours.

Or you could stay in and watch the fantastic Crispin Glover's dance moves and death by corkscrew in Part 4.

1 comment:

Dissolved said...

Bastard. I choked on my coffee at the description of America Olivo's breasts and now my sides hurt. Omg, I wouldn't like to be the one to go round to Kane hodders flat right now,asking him if he has any spare teabags. He'd probably stick a copy of the remake into my chest cavity and then remove both my eyes using the corkscrew prop from part 4 in a huffy rage that he wasn't asked back as Jason.

What is facinating that clearly this film will be the new bovril of horror. Purists will hate it and maybe love it a little but I can already envision the young chavtards meeting in the park saying "awright bawbag, I goat that brand new fukin horror btw, it's pure mentalll, there's this big cunt who pure sticks these cunts wae a sword and awe that, a pure pissed ma sel, they are pure like us and everythin, and the cunts' even goat a hockey mask like the one a pure stole oot a greeves sports the other day. There's a pure bit wae a lassie and a camp fire and it's just like whit my da did last year that goat him sent tae tha jail.".

All my instincts tell me it's wrong, I have a deep seated love for parts 1-4 and yet, Jason X sits in my collection, sticking out like a pensioners legs who couldn't get out the way of a slowly approaching farm vehicle. This means that I must face those instincts and sit through the damn thing, all the time repeating to my self "it's ok, it's loydon recommended, it's loydon recommended". I'll bring the popcorn. Top review. : ) Off to clean up the coffee.