I'd had no idea that today is the 35th anniversary of Friday the 13th until I hopped on Twitter this morning and saw at least a dozen mentions about it (there's definitely a theme to those I follow on Twitter). But when I found out, it got me thinking about not just the first movie, but the whole franchise, and how it has played a pretty significant role in my life.
Now, please don't take this as my serial killer manifesto. I've got a very firm grasp on the difference between reality and fiction, and how the sequential murder of a gaggle of teenagers is fun just so long as it's on screen and not in the newspaper. What I mean when I say that Friday the 13th has played a significant role in my life, I mean that it comes with a lot of memories.
I think better than renting the movies on video, though, was waiting for the marathons that the USA channel would play whenever a Friday the 13th would come around on the calendar. Granted, all the gore was cut out and it seemed like there were commercials every five minutes, but it always seemed like more of an event that way. Of course, the original was always in the mix, and one thing that I distinctly remember was that I didn't realize that Jason's mother was the killer in the first movie. I'd always known Jason as the killer from the later movies, so I remember being very confused as to why no one was off-put at first when in close proximity to a psycho in a hockey mask.
|Doesn't that thing really affect your blind spot?|
Fortunately, the Friday the 13th movies are like pizza: even the shitty ones are still good, especially if you've got a group of people with you at the time. And every time I watch one, I get to remember something good from my childhood. Is that a bit creepy? Perhaps. But I still love it.