Friday the 13th (2009)

Friday the 13th is simultaneously disgusting and tiresome. Disgusting because it relies so heavily on images of slaughtered, chopped-up human beings and cheap jolts; tiresome because it's literally more of the same, returning to a film series that's already had more than a dozen sequels and spin-offs since 1980. Sure, there's a certain sick thrill in watching Jason in those earlier films -- when the idea of the silent, masked killer as unrelenting as death itself had some novelty -- but now it's just a cynical retread of a familiar idea. Modern films like Scream mock slasher conventions while delivering them, while those like Funny Games use the horror genre to play wicked mind games. Friday the 13th just offers more of the same.

Also damaging Friday the 13th is the fierce lack of any sense of invention in the storytelling or plot -- instead, we get advances in special effects that make death-by-arrow and machete-induced throat-cutting more "lifelike." Friday the 13th spurts blood red, but it's designed to earn green money with violence, sex, and recycled plotlines. A horror film should be tough, but not cynical; Friday the 13th is weary, greedy, and contemptuous of its audience.