(10/3) When I was a child, my parents loved horror films. Every weekend, from the time I had the ability to form memories, my parents watched the movies that I think of as "classics" in the horror genre.
Childs Play, Puppet Master, Pet Cemetery, Hellraiser, Nightmare on Elm Street, etc.
Of course, this list would not be complete without Friday the 13th. I didn't remember much about this movie, or any of the following installments, other than the basic storyline. Big creepy man in a jumpsuit and a hockey mask goes on a killing spree at a summer camp in the middle of nowhere.
Over time, the Friday the 13th series began to define the slasher film and encapsulated all the suspense and heart pounding action for which many horror films aspire.
Since the glory days of my childhood, my parents have stopped watching all the scaries. I'm not entirely sure when this happened, it just did. Thinking back on it, this probably turned out to be a good thing for the simple fact that I never became a sadistic serial killer. However, I must thank my parents for my love of horror, and for allowing me to watch just enough flicks to develop the knowledge of what not to do when confronted with someone such as Jason Voorhees.
Tonight I watch the movie that created a frenzy, and made any old Friday the 13th creepy as [insert choice word], the original Friday the 13th.
Nice commentary about the movie but, correct me if I'm wrong, Jason is not the killer in this movie...his mom is. No?
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