The Film Palace

A-B C-D E-F G-H I-J K-L M-N O-P Q-R S-T U-V W-Z

 

Friday the 13th Part III
Reviewed by Edward Larsen Terkelsen

USA, R, 95 m, 1982
Directed by Steve Miner. Stars Dana Kimmell, Paul Kratka, Tracie Savage, et al.

 

Friday the 13th Part III stands out in the chronicles of Jason Voorhees for two reasons: it was shot in 3-D (only those who caught the show during its original theatrical run can attest to the value of this gimmick; subsequent home video releases served up the stabbings and eviscerations in merely two dimensions) and it marked the first time everybody’s favorite machete-wielding mama’s boy donned his now-iconic hockey mask. In the preceding chapter, Jason covered his repulsive puss with something resembling a potato sack, and although the effect was kind of creepy, it was a bit too suggestive of the killer in The Town that Dreaded Sundown. Still, I’ve never been clear as to why Jason needs to wear a disguise in the first place. I mean, why should he give a hang if his victims see what he looks like before he chops them into fish food? 

In the last minutes of Friday the 13th Part II, one of dollies who Jason was hoping to send into the sweet hereafter tricked him into letting his guard down by pretending to be his mother. (You remember mama: she was behind all of the bloodshed in the original Friday flick.) But it turns out that getting nearly decapitated wasn’t enough to break Jason’s stride; he’s returned to Crystal Lake to disembowel a new batch of randy teenagers. One of the youths there, a tubby prankster named Shelly (Larry Zerner), likes to put on masks and scare the dickens out of his friends. Pathetic as it may sound, it’s the only way he knows how to get attention. But the one person whose attention he craves the most, Vera (Catherine Parks), a Hispanic hottie, won’t give him the time of day. (And she just about loses her lunch when he hints that he’d like for her to take his virginity.) So, Shelly decides one night that he’ll win over the star of his wet dreams with a little surprise. Gosh, could it be crocus in a satin box from 1-800-FLOWERS? Or maybe the 140-piece Gold Ballotin from Godiva? How about the Bliss Bullet from Couture? Nope, nuh uh, and grow the fuck up. As Vera sits on the dock cooling her tootsies, the lard-assed ‘tard bursts out of the water wearing a hockey mask and brandishing a spear gun. Needless to say, this goes over like a fart in church: Vera calls him a jerk and sends him blubbering like a binky-deprived baby into the misty night. But somewhere in that misty night, Jason awaits. He cuts Shelly from ear to ear and makes off with his mask and gun. He then tracks down Vera and fires a spear through her head. Lord love a duck, Jason, a weekend in the woods with you is always so intense

True to form, Jason (played here by Richard Brooker) extinguishes more lives in Friday the 13th Part III than Dr. Tiller (may he fry in Hell evermore) used to during the first half of any given day at his Wichita abortion mill. He thrusts a meat cleaver into the chest of a shopkeeper, jabs a knitting needle into the neck of the shopkeeper’s wife, electrocutes a hippy, skewers the hippy’s girlfriend with a hot poker, impales a biker babe against a wall with a pitchfork, etc. At the center of this horrible hackathon is Chris, performed as well as can be expected by Dana Kimmell, a real cutie. Chris survived an attack by Jason some time ago (this went down sometime between II and III), and she’s returned to the scene of the crime for a bit of exposure therapy. Along for the ride is her Cro-Magnon boyfriend, Rick (Paul Kratka), who dresses in preppy duds and sports a haircut that emphasizes his dullness. Naturally, we’re delighted when this big dope gets his skull smashed Casino-style (one of his eyeballs even pops off the screen), but it’s hard to take any pleasure in watching the other kids bite the dust because, well, they’re just kids. (And the only “sins” they’re guilty of are smoking the Devil’s weed and having sex outside of marriage.) Thankfully, the grisly goings-on fade from your mind as soon as the credits come up because the implementation is so trite, so unremarkable. (This unholy thing may have upset a few souls way back when, but today it feels more like a Disney movie when judged against the vile gorenography that Eli Roth and Rob Zombie turn out.) If you’ve seen one Friday the 13th, you’ve seen them all. (Though Friday the 13th: A New Beginning and Jason X did have moments, however fleeting, of true inspiration.) Steve Miner directed this one (as well as II), and he gets a lot of mileage out of the 3-D technology: Shelly juggles apples into the camera, the hippy passes a joint to the camera, Jason shoves whatever weapon he can get his bloody hands on into the camera. It’s often quite funny, like something out of “Dr. Tongue’s 3-D House of Stewardesses.” But what I truly dig about this otherwise artless (and largely tedious) splatter pic is the funky title theme by Michael Zager. (Harry Manfredini composed the rest of the score.) Seriously, peeps, it rocks the house. 

November 30, 2010

© Copyright 2010 by Edward Larsen Terkelsen. All rights reserved.

 


 

E-F Film Review Index Home