Friday the 13th (1980)
Directed by Sean S. Cunningham
How can the film that started a decades-long movie franchise be such an utter bore? Even at a scant 95-minutes, Friday the 13th is bloated and uninteresting. The only thing that makes it the least bit palatable is the foreknowledge of its coming mythology, but even that is a stretch. Severed from its hockey mask mythos, Friday the 13th is uninteresting, bland, and not in the least bit scary. While I acknowledge that films like Friday the 13th hold some value as a time capsule of American ideals and morality (especially in regards to the relationships between misogyny, sexual enlightenment, the breaking down of gender norms, etc.), this does not justify such a tedious and poorly-made dud. There are some supernatural elements at the very end of the film that are slightly intriguing, but it’s not nearly enough to sustain my interest long term. Not to mention, did anyone else notice that the efficiency of the killer goes completely out the window the minute their identity is revealed? Nearly a dozen people are viciously and methodically dispatched throughout the film, but once the secret is out, the same raging homicidal maniac can’t kill for shit. Weak.
Event Horizon (1997)
Directed by Paul W.S. Anderson
Since its release in 1997, I’ve given Event Horizon a number of chances to impress me. So far, it has failed to do so on every occasion – something that bums me out all over again each time I make the attempt. It always goes the same way: Off the bat, its Lovecraftian set-up pulls me in, forcing me to wonder if maybe I’d simply missed something the last go-around. This oddly optimistic feeling, however, quickly dissipates as the mystery and horror of Event Horizon steadily turns from promising to nearly idiotic. No cast – not even one as impressive as this – can save this doomed ship from destruction, even though, every single time, I hope that they can. All of this raises an interesting question that I honestly have no acceptable answer to: If Event Horizon has continually disappointed me for over twenty-five years, why the hell have I seen it so many times?
Darkman III: Die Darkman Die (1996)
Directed by Bradford May
As a young lad in 1990, Sam Raimi’s original Darkman movie had all the markings of an instant classic for me, yet I never got around to seeing it. Skip ahead six years and I again somehow failed to cross paths with both Darkman II: The Return of Durant, and Darkman III: Die Darkman Die. The latter two – both direct-to-video releases – would see Raimi leave the director’s chair, and star Liam Neeson depart for greener pastures. Needless to say, as a result, the quality of the franchise took a decidedly steep nosedive. But, cheaply-made sequels starring lesser-known actors and made by even lesser-known directors is a time-honored tradition among the great failed franchises, and Die Darkman Die, if nothing else, holds up its end of the bargain with spectacular ineptitude. If you’re the type of movie fan who enjoys eye-roll-worthy cringes (the kind perhaps only a hair-gelled and hand-wringing Jeff Fahey can offer), Die Darkman Die probably deserves a treasured spot on your watchlist. For the rest of you, well, you’ve been warned.
James is a writer, record collector, wrestling nerd, and tabletop gamer living with his family in Asheville, North Carolina. He is a member of the Southeastern Film Critics Association, the North Carolina Film Critics Association, and contributes to The Daily Orca, Razorcake Magazine, Mountain Xpress, and Asheville Movies.