In comparison to Part II, there's nothing as smarmy and gratuitous as the ass shot of Kirsten Baker, but there's also nothing as bold and creepy as the shrine to Mama Voorhees. Jason gains a hockey mask but loses out on any kind of intimidation factor in his body language; he's tall and bulky but somehow makes less of an impression. He's somewhat redeemed during the brief but lively period of stalking and chasing the Final Girl which ensues once all the other characters are dead.

This has got to be the most contemptuous and lackadaisical writing job of any slasher film. A paltry handful of moments where the characters were even potentially relatable. It was remarkable how many times characters moved from place to place or took seemingly trivial actions in a way that felt utterly unmotivated, contributing to a sense of unreality. Tracie Savage was more convincing when she was curling up in her hammock after her shower with an issue of Fangoria than when she was enticing her boyfriend into that same hammock earlier for some nookie. The making-out was largely omitted, which normally would frustrate me, but given this movie's difficulty with presenting recognizable human behavior, that was probably a mercy.

A rip off.