Nights of Horror: Friday the 13th - The Final Chapter (1984)
Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter (1984, USA)
Last night the original lineup of the Horror Society of Orlando got together for a screening of Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter, notable for launching the careers of Corey Feldman and Crispin Glover as well as being the first real attempt at putting the last nail in the coffin of our favorite machete-wielding behemoth.
Since there are a million essays out there dissecting and analyzing this series and this film in particular, I hadn’t planned on writing about it. I had planned on enjoying the film surrounded by people who loved it.
Little did I know, about 15 minutes in, my attention would be directed towards something I would latch onto and maintain the emotional equivalent of a pit bull’s bite on for the duration of the film as well as last night and all day today at work.
You see, it was at this point that the car full of teens:
Irresistible Cause of the Magic Blue Ballcap
The Sweetest Sure Thing
Elizabeth Berkley The Virgin
The Dreamboat Guy Who Sings Tangerine
Good Teeth Bad Game
Don’t Call Me Dead Fuck
Anyway it’s at this time that they pause their car a moment to get their bearings on this country road and spot a modest-size roadside cemetery, with one very fresh looking upright granite marker standing tall amongst the grass: Pamela Voorhees, 1930-1979, At Rest.
Okay so here’s the thing. It was widely publicized that Pamela Voorhees, mother of dearly departed special needs drowning victim Jason Voorhees, viciously and senselessly slaughtered several people who had jack shit to do with her son’s untimely death. It was in the papers and everything.
Now I work at a funeral home, I’ve laid to rest my fair share of murder victims as well as murderers. The fact that they’re in my care at all means one thing: They’ve got someone on their side, someone with money, who wants to see them buried (or disposed of) properly. So this means Pamela Voorhees had someone on her side who cared enough to not only see her buried in a proper grave, but to get her a proper gravestone.
I asked my boss what a custom-engraved upright granite gravestone would have cost in 1980, which is when the first Friday the 13th was made. He says somewhere between $500 and $1000, which makes sense, since something similar today is going to run you starting somewhere around $1500-$2000, adjusting for inflation. I also told him why I was asking, to which he replied, “oh lol” and didn’t talk to me for the rest of the day. Totally baited him to go down this rabbit hole with me and he didn’t. I should’ve known he wouldn’t after all these years, but I still find myself making a stink-face trying to imagine who amongst my coworkers would give two fucks about anything I find interesting when I still have to explain to every new intern who the fresh hell Dana Scully is.
So Pamela Voorhees had someone who cared enough to put her headless corpse into the ground with dignity and respect. If she had a stone that nice, let’s assume she had a casket. Nothing too expensive, nothing crazy. But a grave requires a liner, so the ground doesn’t collapse. You need to line the grave with a concrete or metal vault (with a lid) so when the ground settles and the casket deteriorates, Francesco Dellamorte Dellamore can mow the lawn without falling into a sinkhole.
Pamela’s in the ground with a casket, a vault, and a headstone. Who put her there? Did the townspeople of Wessex County, moved to pity, take up a collection and give her demise a little grace?
Did she have a pre-need? She seemed like a planner. She was a smart lady. Kind and considerate, til we found out she was missing several marbles. She might have made all of her arrangements in advance. I love the idea of the medical examiner’s office of what’s now Cunningham County, New Jersey, reporting that they’ve received her into their care and some funeral home chiming in and saying
“Good afternoon this is Regular Jagoff of Crystal Lake Funeral Home and Crematory, I’m inquiring as the release status of one of the decedents in your care, as we have a preneed arrangement for Pamela Voorhees. I understand she won’t be released until you’ve conducted your investigation, but would you be able to disclose as to whether or not she will be viewable? Just, you know, before I make my call to the family, I want to be optimistic, but I heard it was pretty brutal up there at the camp. Beheaded, you say? But her face is intact? She looks good? Oh, what a relief, they’ll be really happy to hear it, should they decide to go with a viewing. Of course we can work with that, I’ll just encourage them to bring something with a high neck. Like a nice cable knit turtleneck sweater, that’ll look nice. And can we get a case number from you for when we receive the first call?”
I’d love to believe she’s the type of woman to make her arrangements in advance.
Cause you know ol’ Rampage Johnson over here didn’t do it, he’s too busy:
· killing a sweet girl who just got her feelings hurt for chilling in a floatie boatie.
· killing the guy who was coming to apologize to her after dancing too long with the Doublemint twin who was only attracted to the blue ball cap and anyone wearing it anyway.
· killing baby George McFly who could be a dreamboat if he didn’t dance like Elaine Benes (good thing he borrowed the blue ball cap or he would have never gotten lucky), to be fair if he had been born in the age of the internet he would have become Elliot Rodger.
· killing the hot mom who was jogging in the rain (I mean, we didn’t actually see that one, so maybe she just went home to her husband and said fuck this rain and fuck them kids).
· killing the pretty boy for singing in the shower and moving his body exactly 6 feet away for the comedic effect of scaring the first person who isn’t a stealth kill,
· the Virgin who DIES a virgin via an axe wound (Yeah I see you, you think you’re slick, you think you’re clever and you are, this movie is great).
· killing the other Doublemint twin for having the audacity to get bored whilst surrounded by stoners. I’ll forever respect that she just had a raincoat and bonnet ready to go, love her.
· killing the stoner for laughing and smiling too much.
· killing the 40 year old camper dude who found time within his revenge mission to hold hands with baby Corey Feldman all the way up to his bedroom.
Meanwhile Crystal Lake Funeral Home is going through the pre-arranged contract, phone book nearby, going through every bake sale phone tree in town searching for a legal next of kin to grant approval for the proof of the death certificate to send to the doctor so they can sign it send it upstate.
“You see, Pamela had been exhibiting signs of distress and personality changes before she passed, there’s a chance that the beheading wasn’t what done her in. We will need toxicology reports to be sure, and these are 1979 toxicology reports, so mmm, yes, this will take time. But in the meantime we can get some of these approvals out of the way and you can get to closing the bank accounts, canceling the loan on her car, invalidating her driver’s license, yes, any car insurance she had, you’ll need a short form for that, we have to notify social security, notify her medical insurance, life insurance policies, oh that’s a good one, can we check with the life insurance company, because she definitely had a policy, who is the beneficiary- the Angora Cat Café of Crystal Lake? Oh well that’s sweet. Compelling woman.
Unfortunately we haven’t got the release yet. What on Earth is a GoFundMe?”
And then they get a trocar punched through their skull and their body stuffed in a bio bin because this is Friday the 13th Part 3.5: Last Responder.
Overheard in another office:
“And the nurse and the orderly were making macaroni noises whilst watching AEROBICS videos?? How embarrassing. And they’re missing? Have you checked the bio bins? I’m KIDDING. Hang on, I hear a strange sound coming from the prep room. I’m gonna get naked and take a shower, call you later.”