DRIVE-IN SATURDAY

DRIVE-IN SATURDAY

I DON'T LIKE FRIDAYS

Edouard Dauphin

by

According to the ads, three times before we�ve experienced the horror, and now we are ready for the fourth installment—the one we�ve been screaming for. Sounds like it could be the new Adam Ant record, right? Wrong, potato-stix-for-brains.

It�s only Friday The 13th —The Final Chapter, reputedly the last episode in a cinema saga that goes back to, let�s see now, was it 1954? See, there was this summer camp in Jersey and this son of Betsy Palmer was running amok, slaughtering teenagers. Yeah, and he saw his mum get beheaded and that made him really crazy and then everybody was suddenly in 3-D, shooting spear guns out into The Dauph�s bloodshot eyes and...and...Well, we�re up to date and Jason is finally going to get his clock cleaned once and for all. Or is he?

It was with some skepticism that Edouard skulked into a Times Square showing of The Final Chapter. In the wake of the first film—a psycho-trasho classic—the succeeding two had been mildly disappointing. Plus, pre-release rumors had circulated that the ending to No. 4 was ambiguous. Surely, the film makers weren�t going to let Jason survive for yet another sequel. The Dauph stepped over a few stupefied 42nd St. cineasts Supine in the aisle, took a slug of chain lightning from a silver-plated flask, lit up a cheroot and waited to be convinced.

It didn�t take long. Right away, No. 4 distinguishes itself by avoiding the unbelievable. So there is no attempt to re-open Camp Crystal Lake to set up the same situation we�ve seen before. I mean even in New Jersey, kids aren�t so stupid they would frequent a summer resort where 30 or 40 people have been mutilated over the past few years. Of course, if the camp had been in, say, Macomb, Illinois, things might have gone on indefinitely.

Instead, we have a cross-section of visitors to the nearby area, including a houseful of horny adolescents who, in Friday The 13th tradition, enjoy skinny-dipping in the middle of the night while a homicidal maniac is prowling nearby (So you get the requisite number of lines like �I know you�re out there, Paul.�), along with a brother and sister team with a surprising capacity for survival. The boy of the latter duo resembles a 10-year-old Paul Williams, with a fetish for designing horror masks but, thankfully, no Las Vegas mannerisms or tendencies for hugging Ed McMahon.

OK, Dauph, get to the killings, you are no doubt saying and who can blame you? Friday The 13th —The Final Chapter offers a neck sawed off; someone stabbed in the throat; another victim impaled while eating a banana; what looks like a harpoon through the groin region; not to mention a surgical blade driven into the sternum, then downward in a way to give new and poignant meaning to the Word �eviscerate.� And that�s only half of the proceedings. Did I leave out corkscrewed to death, hurled from an upper story onto a car roof, stabbed in the head through a movie screen and axed through a door? Sorry, but this is not Benji Vs. The Muppets At Crystal Lake.

OK, you are now saying, so what does happen to Jason? Well, like the Timex of old, the indestructible one �takes a licking but keeps on ticking.� The Dauph�s own personal highlight came when he was bopped on the head with a portable TV set, creating an explosion of sparks and prompting one of the Times Square denizens to stir briefly from his slumber to shout; �That�s it, girl. Electrocute his ass!� before slipping back into mental oblivion.

Old Hockey-head survives that pounding but does meet his match during the flick�s final reel. Is he dead? Well, The Dauph would have to say yes, though on the way out of the theatre, I tripped over someone who also looked lifeless only to discover it was a very much alive Elmo. Draw your own conclusions—but don�t bet against still another Friday The 13th, only with a slightly smaller monster.