Quite what newness the subtitle of this seventh entry into the increasingly-tiresome Friday the 13th saga refers to is anybody’s guess, but perhaps it’s the introduction of Carrie-like supernatural elements. While certainly out of place in this series, these elements are, at the very least, something bordering on new.
You’re going to get a lot of italics within these paragraphs, darlings, so hold tight.
I began writing a negative review in my head almost immediately as the film started, hoping that, eventually, I’d be proven wrong and have to start afresh once I sat down to type. But nah, I really don’t want to give The New Blood any more credit than it deserves. In general, I try my best not to be a snob about stuff, but this film really wants me to be one. It’s practically begging me.
Fine.
I’m actually struggling to decide on how to structure my review, so you’ll have to endure my interior monologue as you read. It’s just gone ten o’clock at night on a Sunday and I’m trying to decide what I need to add to my grocery order that’s arriving tomorrow morning. I’ve got until midnight. I finally cleaned my gross bathroom earlier, which is a relief. There’s some noise outside my building from the neighbours, but that’s nothing new. I’ve just emerged from a week of harmful binge-drinking, but that’s nothing new either.
Anyway, onwards…
Friday the 13th Part VII: The New Blood fails to successfully set-up who the fuck any of its characters are or why we should care even one tiny bit. The filmmakers have offered minor motivations and personality traits to actors barely able to string two words together. There’s one actress who seems to be from another planet entirely, but I can’t narrow that down for you. Oh wait, she’s the one who gets thrown through a window. Yeah, that’s her.
The great Terry Kiser is present to keep things roughly afloat. He really should be wearing a t-shirt throughout that reads: “I’M TOO GOOD FOR THIS MOVIE”. And he’d be right to do so. I believe that man will outlive us all.
Who knows where this instalment is set within the timeline of the series, as quite a significant period seems to have elapsed since the end of Part VI. Well over a decade, I would say, but it still appears mired in the 1980s. The hairdos are full and buoyant, the music’s terrible, and there’s so much denim on display that… erm… I dunno, I don’t have any references regarding denim with which to make a joke. I mean, does anybody?!
While I’ve not read any notes on the making of this one, I believe it suffered a spike in late-80s conservatism, so many of the kills were, ironically, botched beyond recognition by censors. Whether a complete cut of these moments would save the rest of the film, I guess we will never know.
We get a camper element here than usual, and I’m not talking about the cabins at Crystal Lake. Boom. In fact, at precisely 33 minutes into my viewing, I said out loud to no-one: “Is this film for real?!”. Add to that some lough-out-loud moments thanks to the aforementioned abysmal actors, and you could actually dig out a pretty enjoyable experience from this worm-filled grave. Perhaps I’ll rewatch it for the same reason I rewatch Aliens vs. Predator (2004) quite regularly.
You know, for laughs.
There’s some glorious synthesiser beats in the score, a score which I’m assuming mostly uses stock music cues from the previous entries, hence the duo of credited composers. It’s always a good sign when a production can’t afford one of its tried-and-tested contributors.
So, yeah, pretty much everybody dies, there’s some mildly-diverting nudity, and I didn’t care one jot about any of it.
Keep reaching for those stars, Hollywood!
Oh well, at least I only have three more to go. Come on, Jim, you can do this!
Do stay in touch, darlings.
Toodles!
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