Nah. I didn't necessarily mind the industrial score, Nispel has a flair for the visual, the way the camera captures a lot in a scene, the set pieces involving Jason's childhood home, and even the principles aren't all that bad--especially considering the usual casts who occupy these movies--but I dunno, it just lacks a certain charm. There was plenty of tits, a protracted erotic-less sex scene, water-skiing without a top, all of this accompanying Jason's predatory pursuit of college student targets. Mears, as Jason, is all business, nothing behind the hockey mask exists but menace. I thought he was good. I think you do what you can when wearing the hockey mask. Some are just walking stuntmen, but occasionally you get some personality and specific movements, gestures, and posture that speaks when no voice is present.
I won't bitch about the nit-picky stuff like how Jason built that underground installation (was he selling some of the dope to afford it?), why he would bother kidnapping the girl (before he noticed a passing resemblance between her and his mother), and how would he survive at the end only to pull his "wait for it, wait for it, now!" rise of the watery depths to finish what he started just so the opportunity for a sequel could be afforded. Good use of a woodchipper although this movie sure doesn't rival Fargo in the grisly violent death regard. There was a funny line regarding a hockey stick.
I'm on the fence about it. I can live with or without it.
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