Jason Goes to Hell is terrible. It’s terribly made, it’s terribly written, it’s terribly acted. It’s so terrible I wish the word “terrible” was in the title just so I could continue to make terrible jokes instead of trying to write about the movie.
There’s something interesting about it. And not just how the movie implies Jason Voorhees is a Deadite, which would have been far cooler, or he’s a leftover from New Line Cinema’s previous effort, The Hidden. Tying it into either of those franchises would have at least been imaginative. Well, not the second. Director Marcus apes The Hidden more than enough.
But the other interesting thing is disturbing. Marcus makes a big deal out of torture scenes featuring Steven Williams and Richard Gant. Both have big scenes where they torture white guys. The first one, with Gant, is a ritualistic BDSM thing with a naked Rubenesque male. The second has Williams gleefully torturing geeky but secretly a great fighter white guy John D. LeMay, all while whispering softly to him.
Marcus is similarly creepy when it comes to women in the film. He sexualizes Erin Gray while she’s injured, while her daughter–female lead Kari Keegan–escapes any objectification.
It’s not competently perverse enough to give pause, but Marcus seems to wish he could be that perverse.
Really bad photography from Bill Dill; he and Marcus are the incompetent duo on this one. Though Harry Manfredini’s score’s atrocious this entry.
Hell is tired before the opening titles.
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