His Name Was Jason: 30 Years of Friday the 13th

Dream Note

Grab your hockey mask and whatever leftover summer camp counselor outfit you've got rotting in the closet, because we're about to take a thirty-year victory lap through the most resilient horror franchise in cinema history. This retrospective love letter to Friday the 13th is essentially the world's most enthusiastic family reunion — if your family happened to include dozens of actors who've been impaled, decapitated, drowned, and otherwise creatively dispatched by a mentally challenged juggernaut in a mask over the course of three decades. The documentary rounds up virtually everyone who ever set foot in Crystal Lake, from the original cast members who probably thought they were signing up for a forgettable B-movie to the later entries' survivors who probably still can't hear a 'ki-ki-ki, ma-ma-ma' sound without reaching for therapy bills. What makes this celebration genuinely special rather than just a glorified DVD extra is the palpable affection everyone shares for this ridiculous, wonderful, blood-soaked institution. These filmmakers and performers understand something that every pretentious film critic misses: Friday the 13th wasn't despite its cheesiness — it was BECAUSE of it. The franchise survived twelve films, multiple continuity reboots, a space episode that makes less sense than the last season of Game of Thrones, and a crossover with Freddy Krueger that was essentially the horror equivalent of when two rival fast-food chains open next to each other and everyone wins. The interviews reveal the scrappy, seat-of-your-pants filmmaking behind the mayhem — directors who had three days to shoot a kill scene, makeup artists who built iconic gore effects with pocket change and sheer audacity, and actors who delivered Shakespearean commitment to dialogue like 'He's still out there!' This is the documentary that finally gives Jason Voorhees the retrospective respect he deserves, which is more than anyone ever gave that poor kid at Camp Crystal Lake.