Do I really need to say any more? Don’t watch THE 13TH FRIDAY, just…walk away.
Really? You want a reason? Fine. Sigh.
It’s been a while since a movie has filled me with such nauseated abhorrence to which I pray to any god listening for some sweet release. Please note: my tolerance for bad movies is HIGH, and dovetails nicely with my slightly masochistic tendencies I inflict on myself. But there is, as John Mellencamp aptly described, as a “hurts so good”, just as there’s a “hurts so bad” category. THE 13TH FRIDAY is deep within the latter category.
But is this just senseless hyperbole from everyone’s favorite wet blanket? Or perhaps there’s something more to THE 13TH FRIDAY…
No, it sucks. Seriously. The plot is vomited spaghetti of horror — taking from everything and learning from none. And you should know me by now, I love to give a fair shake to everything. I love indie movies with heart and cheese. I enjoy finding what works and what can be improved on…
But oof. Big oof for this movie. I literally had to force myself six times to try to bellycrawl through this pile of broken fragments and it was painful-
Huh? Oh, you want the plot, not just me complaining? Get in line because who flippin’ knows.
Best as I can guess is: there’s a haunted house that curses people because there’s ackchyually 13 months in the calendar, and there’s a demon who needs 13 sacrifices because they walked into the house and…Big Profit.
Anyway, there’s a shitton of characters with all kinds of different accents who speak in a translated kind of English:
It takes literally 20 minutes to establish a main character.
It’s just all nonsense, taking elements from far better movies.
Save yourself. It’s not worth it.
I really don’t like trashing on people’s efforts, I don’t. As a critic, it’s a dumb, easy power we have: taking a brief glance and saying, ‘yea’ or ‘nay’. We don’t see all of the effort going into the film — the blood, sweat, tears and mucus poured into something under two hours.
But there’s a REAL and honest art to making something bad, trust me. Not everyone can be the next James Nguyen, Tommy Wiseau, or Neil Breen. It takes a perfect storm of hubris, ego and ignorance to make something deliciously bad and unaware of itself.
Unfortunately, in that realm, there’s also the just abysmally bad movies. The ones that never reach that raw charisma of, say, Troll 2 levels. They flounder. They flop. They hurt you as you watch them. Thankfully my tolerance to movie-bad is high and it’s rare to find the ones that give me such a visceral reaction.
So, congratulations, THE 13TH FRIDAY, you have that claim to fame. You made me feel like garbage.
Top-to-bottom, this movie languishes through the regurgitated spaghetti it attempts to throw at the wall, but somehow gets into your mouth instead. It’s not fun. It’s not cute. Its existence is only pain and suffering.
No. Just no.(0 / 5)