Friday the 13th: Hacktacular

What lurks in the woods?

In Part Two of “Horror Hiatus Projects of Supernatural Stars,” it’s now Jared Padalecki’s turn to show us his non-Winchester side on the big screen.  There’s more sex than the average Supernatural episode(hell, there’s more sex than the average Supernatural season), but the blood and gore is comparable, if not tamer.  Padalecki plays Clay Miller, a young man looking for his missing sister(Amanda Righetti), who was last seen in the vicinity of Camp Crystal Lake, camping with friends.  He’s carrying a crapload of guilt along with his backpack as he combs the countryside on his motorcycle, passing out flyers.  You see, he ditched his family at seventeen, leaving his younger sister to care for their cancer-ridden mother, and when they last spoke six months ago, they argued.  And this is the nice guy in the flick.

Spoilers beyond this point, if you consider Jason Voorhees whacking a bunch of partying college kids a spoiler.  And if you do, you’ve really been hiding in a cave for the past twenty-odd years.  Also, oops, guess I spoiled you.

Actually, there’s not a whole lot left to spoil.  The majority of the flick is Clay, along with that group of college kids, attempting to survive the determined efforts of the machete-wielding maniac in the woods trying to kill them.  To his credit, Jason(Derek Mears) is a smart guy, with an underground network of tunnels for sneaking around, an electrical tap from somewhere that lights the place up like a Little League field, and a thorough knowledge of the property around the lake.  Surprise, just about everyone dies.  I did hate to see Chewie(Aaron Yoo, otherwise known as the “comic relief”) go, as well as Jenna(Danielle Panabaker), the nice girl Clay probably would have hooked up with if not for being skewered. 

Clay does eventually find his sister, whom Jason has been holding captive in the tunnels because she bears a passing resemblance to his mother.  The siblings frantically race through the rain to keep ahead of Jason as they make their escape, but are forced into a showdown in an old barn containing a very handy wood chipper.  Clay gives it his all, and still ends up with his head pushed toward the buzzing blades of the chipper.  This moment, right here, is the only one where I had to cover my eyes for a second.  Not the Padalecki face!  Judging by the reaction around me, even the guys in the theater were disconcerted by the possibility.  Although I’d guess their reaction came from a ”Dude, what a nasty way to go” sort of place, rather than my horror that the handsome lead was about to be mutilated.  In the end, Whitney, Clay’s sister, saves his life by pretending to be Mrs. Voorhees, thus distracting our mask-wearing anti-hero.  Clay dives to the side as she throws a chain around Jason’s neck, and tosses the free end into the chipper, which pulls it tight, thus choking him to his supposed death.  And I say “supposed” because dawn finds the two survivors on the shores of Crystal Lake, dumping the hulking body into the water, only to be shocked minutes later as Jason crashes up through the dock to grab Whitney.  The End.  Sequel anyone?  Considering it was the #1 movie for the weekend, taking in over $45 million, I’d say it’s a safe bet we’ll see one.

Knock, knock...Avon calling.

It seems an odd thing to try critiquing the filmmaking–no one expects a Friday the 13th flick to win any Oscars–but I couldn’t help but note it looked beautiful.  Gorgeous lake shots and sunset-lit landscapes as Clay rode up and down country roads.  And in a nice change of pace, the girls weren’t the only ones wearing tight clothes–Padalecki had to ditch his many Winchester layers for close-fitting jeans and t-shirt that was almost one size too small.  As far as plot and characters…no one goes to a horror flick for a plot-driven character study.  The plot made sense enough that it didn’t take me out of the story, and the characters were mainly there to be machete-fodder.  The kills were not terribly shocking–as I said at the top, Supernatural has had bloodier, gorier, more cringe-worthy deaths, in my opinion.  Not that I’m anxious to go camping any time soon, mind you.