Looming slow as molasses, A24’s Friday The 13th prequel series Crystal Lake is as cursed as the entire franchise has been, with the most recent news being the loss of their showrunner. This is on the heels of lengthy legal battles, a discontinued video game, and most importantly, no new filmic content in almost two decades. Fans are so hungry most probably aren’t worried about an A24-ification of the series; it is a wildly successful studio, so it makes sense why they would earn instant good faith. On top of which, A24 has built its reputation on delivering arthouse-style horror in a manner that is palatable to the masses. Unfortunately, when this formula misses, both the true nastiness of horror and the mind-bending nature of being experimental both feel sheepish and cowardly, neither going nearly far enough. There shouldn’t be fear of taking a franchise in a new direction (it can be a very healthy move), but one has to wonder if those behind Crystal Lake respect just how much Friday the 13th has already done just that over its twelve film run.
Taken as a whole, it would be easy to dismiss the Friday the 13th franchise as disjointed, full of narrative leaps from film to film. Why is Jason still a child at the end of the first film decades after his death, but then a young adult a year later in Part II? If Jason is returned to being a child and turned into toxic waste in Manhattan at the end of Part VIII, how is he back to his previous state in Jason Goes To Hell? Whatever happens to Tommy, did he finally become a Jason copycat killer or what? Yet, everyone has their favorite F13 film, regardless of how it fits or doesn’t fit into the overall picture. Much like the genius of the 2009 remake’s opening where the original first three films are streamlined together, these are campfire tales, evolving with each storyteller; taking what they want from the mythos and shaping it into the story they wish to share.
Within each entry are fascinating explorations of the Crystal Lake lore. Part VIII is rightfully teased for being more on a boat than in the Manhattan it promises, but the real meat of that film is the way it brings back the inner child psychology of Jason. Part II‘s final girl only defeats Jason by truly understanding this, wearing his mother’s rotten corpse sweater and imitating the mother’s inner voice she so wisely analyzes that Jason hears. In Part VIII though, this theme inverts itself, to reveal the true cruelty of the final girl. When Jason is transformed by lightning back into the child who drowned due to teen neglect so long ago, the final girl ignores his cries for help and leaves him to die. Neglect is now intentional murder.
In Part V, Tommy, once a child who also used psychological tricks to kill Jason, is now a traumatized teen. The themes throughout are exactly what contemporary elevated horror claims were missing from the genre. Yet, here is an entire film in this mainstream slasher series dedicated to how traumatic events are impossible to escape. When a hockey-masked killer begins to kill again, Tommy’s trauma as a survivor doesn’t earn him sympathy. It makes him a suspect. The cruelty of accusing a victim of being as bad as their abuser drives this narrative. The ending is the most grim of all though, implying that even after Tommy’s name has been cleared, he may now actually become a killer. Is this because his accusers were always right about trauma victims being untrustworthy, or is it his accusers’ fault, a result of this new deeper layer of trauma? That is for the viewer to contemplate, making the film far more interesting to think about than most elevated horror which preaches from a pulpit.
There is no reason here to go through all twelve films and point out the subtle, but important, ways they take such a simple premise of a masked man in the woods killing teens, and explore so many possibilities. Just watch them with a discerning eye and you’ll see for yourself. And it all goes back to Part II. Something new needed to be said and the creators didn’t worry about what age Jason should really be. These films aren’t real life, they’re art. Rather, they presented one of the most interesting elements in the entire run of movies. Jason has been living in a house he built with his own two hands. It is a haunted house built by the monster in it. This home houses his shrine to his dead mother and even has a certainly non-functioning toilet. Many characters visit this home, but none discuss what it means for Jason that he is capable of construction. Jason made a home and a temple. Was he just trying to live and worship in peace? If so, he is the archetypal religious freedom-obsessed, land-staking American. And like the Pilgrims, such supposed noble intentions seem to be the real mask, covering up genocidal tendencies. Is Jason’s reputation as the sympathetic victim unwarranted? There are no answers here, these are musings based on just one small piece. And that is okay, great even. This is why the Friday the 13th films are so much fun to discuss afterward.
A24 has already announced that, whatever direction Crystal Lake may go in, it will be a prequel series. But what feels like the best way to go would be something that truly embraces the campfire tale heart of the franchise, by allowing many writers and directors to tell their own stories. The future of F13 should be an anthology series, with each episode completely disconnected from the others. Not quite the What If? of horror, but tall tales where only a small amount of cannon truth runs through them all. How much fun would it be to see the Jason X novelization sequel Planet of the Beast (2005) brought to life, where scientists are trying to make an army of Jason clones? If Jason could kill all the settlers on the moon, maybe he would have time to build a house again. ★
