Greetings And Salutations, and welcome to my review of Friday The 13th Part V - A New Beginning; here's the breakdown of my ratings:
Story: 1.25 Direction: 1.25 Pace: 1.50 Acting: 1.00 Enjoyment: 1.25
TOTAL: 6.25 out of 10.00.
Okay, so this instalment of Jason Voorhees's saga is a suck-it-and-see film. In many ways, it's like marmite; you're either going to love it or hate it - and with good reason.
Writers Martin Kitrosser, David Cohen, and Danny Steinmann continue the tale from the ending of Part IV, one of the best or the best Jason Friday 13th. Tommy is still suffering from the onslaught he witnessed years before and his own course of vicious action required to survive and save his sister. Jason is finally dead and buried...or is he? Tommy finds himself at a last-stop halfway house in the countryside after being in and out of foster care. He's a quiet kid who likes to keep to himself but still possesses the survival instincts that saved him from Jason's killing spree. Pam and Matt manage the house and try to help the kids to adapt and settle. But as is usual with end-of-the-line establishments, the kids are the broken ones, the misbehaved, the angry, the violent, the disabled - the ones people don't want or can't handle. No sooner has Tommy thrown his bag on his bunk than the kids and the surrounding neighbours start to kark it in horrid style. Of, course, Tommy believes his long-dead nemesis has arisen from the grave to exact revenge. Is it in his mind - or worse? What the writers do splendidly is cast aspersions here, there, and everywhere. These insinuations keep the audience guessing as to the killer's identity. The downfall, though, is the characterisations. They're not brilliant. Tommy comes across unsatisfactorily because he's a tad too flat. I know he's been affected by that Friday 13th long ago, but it would've made the story more powerful if he'd kept some of his previous spirit. Then we have the over-the-top characters only written for laughs - the redneck mother and son who hate the kids and the institution. But worst are the two-dimensional extras like the kids who can't quit playing hide the salami. You know they're cannon fodder, and it's a shame that the writers treat them as such. Particularly considering the two lads having car trouble get better lines and character construction than them and end up being the killer's first two slays. I still can't understand why they're dressed like T-Bird rejects from Grease. I can't remember that ever being a fashion thing in the mid-eighties, and that was my era. At least they weren't decked out in Pink Lady's garb. The disjointedness of the individuals mar the story and diminishes its power because you don't relate or feel for the characters. The only one I could associate with was the axe murderer. I can't say that if I were in his shoes, I wouldn't have carved up the chocolate muncher. But the one element that deters from the whodunnit is the bolt-on ending. It's the moment everybody decides if they loved the movie or not. For me, the film should've ended with the previous scene. Had it done so, it wouldn't have been too awful. But the last segment appears like a rush job and is merely spliced on to promote a further chapter. The writers don't even try to explain the hockey mask's sudden appearance in the hospital room's bedside drawer. In fact, it's the only thing in the drawer. Don't get me wrong, I loved the idea that the finale represented, but the way the writers bring it to the viewers' attention is pure dung - and it stinks up everything that went before because that wasn't great. The writers should've incorporated the notion from the start. They could've employed it as another red herring while growing the idea into maturity for the climax. Moreover, it would've considerably strengthened the story.
Danny Steinmann's direction is better than his scribbling, which is respectable as it helps keep the film's head above the waterline in the sea of yuckiness. He even has some good ideas, such as borrowing the Police Squad opening. He sits a camera behind the red light of an ambulance as it wails its way into the yard to collect the chopped-up chocolate muncher. It's simple but effective, and Steinmann employs it flawlessly. In fact, his cinematography isn't too bad. Yes, it could've been better, but he keeps everything in focus, has good composition, and lights everything impeccably. This Friday 13th is the fourth film he directed and his last, and I think that was a shame; I wouldn't have minded seeing more of his work. The redneck mother and son wouldn't have been so amusing had it not been for his direction. I would've liked to see him direct a comedy because the timing and pacing of the picture are sound.
The cast is okay: They're nothing to write home about, but they give their performances with heart. It's a shame the writers didn't offer them more scope. The stand-out performance is the redneck mommy, Ethel. Carol Locatell effortlessly instils her character with that down-home, under-the-surface, country insanity. She likes nothing better than to babble to herself about everything wrong in her world, not just her life: Especially when you consider everyone is out to get her, not exclude her son. Another convincing performance comes from a young Shavar Ross as Reggie, who's like Tommy was as a youngster.
Apart from the terrible ending, the movie isn't an unpleasant whodunnit. I would happily recommend it to everyone who likes their mysteries with a hack'n'slash of gore and body parts. Just hit the stop button when you see Tommy lying in the hospital bed at the end. You won't be missing anything because the next movie doesn't continue the concept this one leaves behind like a slug trail.
Now, where did I put that darned hockey mask? Bugger! I think I left it in the hospital when I strained my humourous muscle. While I go and buy another, please check out my IMDb lists - Killer Thriller Chillers and The Game Is Afoot. To see where I ranked Friday The 13th Part V - A New Beginning.
Take Care & Stay Well.
Story: 1.25 Direction: 1.25 Pace: 1.50 Acting: 1.00 Enjoyment: 1.25
TOTAL: 6.25 out of 10.00.
Okay, so this instalment of Jason Voorhees's saga is a suck-it-and-see film. In many ways, it's like marmite; you're either going to love it or hate it - and with good reason.
Writers Martin Kitrosser, David Cohen, and Danny Steinmann continue the tale from the ending of Part IV, one of the best or the best Jason Friday 13th. Tommy is still suffering from the onslaught he witnessed years before and his own course of vicious action required to survive and save his sister. Jason is finally dead and buried...or is he? Tommy finds himself at a last-stop halfway house in the countryside after being in and out of foster care. He's a quiet kid who likes to keep to himself but still possesses the survival instincts that saved him from Jason's killing spree. Pam and Matt manage the house and try to help the kids to adapt and settle. But as is usual with end-of-the-line establishments, the kids are the broken ones, the misbehaved, the angry, the violent, the disabled - the ones people don't want or can't handle. No sooner has Tommy thrown his bag on his bunk than the kids and the surrounding neighbours start to kark it in horrid style. Of, course, Tommy believes his long-dead nemesis has arisen from the grave to exact revenge. Is it in his mind - or worse? What the writers do splendidly is cast aspersions here, there, and everywhere. These insinuations keep the audience guessing as to the killer's identity. The downfall, though, is the characterisations. They're not brilliant. Tommy comes across unsatisfactorily because he's a tad too flat. I know he's been affected by that Friday 13th long ago, but it would've made the story more powerful if he'd kept some of his previous spirit. Then we have the over-the-top characters only written for laughs - the redneck mother and son who hate the kids and the institution. But worst are the two-dimensional extras like the kids who can't quit playing hide the salami. You know they're cannon fodder, and it's a shame that the writers treat them as such. Particularly considering the two lads having car trouble get better lines and character construction than them and end up being the killer's first two slays. I still can't understand why they're dressed like T-Bird rejects from Grease. I can't remember that ever being a fashion thing in the mid-eighties, and that was my era. At least they weren't decked out in Pink Lady's garb. The disjointedness of the individuals mar the story and diminishes its power because you don't relate or feel for the characters. The only one I could associate with was the axe murderer. I can't say that if I were in his shoes, I wouldn't have carved up the chocolate muncher. But the one element that deters from the whodunnit is the bolt-on ending. It's the moment everybody decides if they loved the movie or not. For me, the film should've ended with the previous scene. Had it done so, it wouldn't have been too awful. But the last segment appears like a rush job and is merely spliced on to promote a further chapter. The writers don't even try to explain the hockey mask's sudden appearance in the hospital room's bedside drawer. In fact, it's the only thing in the drawer. Don't get me wrong, I loved the idea that the finale represented, but the way the writers bring it to the viewers' attention is pure dung - and it stinks up everything that went before because that wasn't great. The writers should've incorporated the notion from the start. They could've employed it as another red herring while growing the idea into maturity for the climax. Moreover, it would've considerably strengthened the story.
Danny Steinmann's direction is better than his scribbling, which is respectable as it helps keep the film's head above the waterline in the sea of yuckiness. He even has some good ideas, such as borrowing the Police Squad opening. He sits a camera behind the red light of an ambulance as it wails its way into the yard to collect the chopped-up chocolate muncher. It's simple but effective, and Steinmann employs it flawlessly. In fact, his cinematography isn't too bad. Yes, it could've been better, but he keeps everything in focus, has good composition, and lights everything impeccably. This Friday 13th is the fourth film he directed and his last, and I think that was a shame; I wouldn't have minded seeing more of his work. The redneck mother and son wouldn't have been so amusing had it not been for his direction. I would've liked to see him direct a comedy because the timing and pacing of the picture are sound.
The cast is okay: They're nothing to write home about, but they give their performances with heart. It's a shame the writers didn't offer them more scope. The stand-out performance is the redneck mommy, Ethel. Carol Locatell effortlessly instils her character with that down-home, under-the-surface, country insanity. She likes nothing better than to babble to herself about everything wrong in her world, not just her life: Especially when you consider everyone is out to get her, not exclude her son. Another convincing performance comes from a young Shavar Ross as Reggie, who's like Tommy was as a youngster.
Apart from the terrible ending, the movie isn't an unpleasant whodunnit. I would happily recommend it to everyone who likes their mysteries with a hack'n'slash of gore and body parts. Just hit the stop button when you see Tommy lying in the hospital bed at the end. You won't be missing anything because the next movie doesn't continue the concept this one leaves behind like a slug trail.
Now, where did I put that darned hockey mask? Bugger! I think I left it in the hospital when I strained my humourous muscle. While I go and buy another, please check out my IMDb lists - Killer Thriller Chillers and The Game Is Afoot. To see where I ranked Friday The 13th Part V - A New Beginning.
Take Care & Stay Well.