My Favorite Things: Crispin Glover’s Death In Friday The 13th Part IV: The Final Chapter

A few weeks ago, my dog barfed during the night. My girlfriend woke up before I did, discovered the vomit, and told me “Don’t step in the vomit.” From that moment forward, I made a mental note to myself to not step in the vomit. However, if you’ve ever read about the dysfunctional machine that is my body, you’d know that, subconsciously, my first actual thought was to head directly for the vomit and plant my foot into it. I did just that, within thirty seconds of being warned.

I love irony. And the Friday the 13th series is built entirely around irony. Someone might say “Man, it sure is handy that we have this spear gun here!” never knowing that that evening, that spear is going to turn someone else’s eye into a projectile too. Someone else might exclaim “Well, we finished this great archery range for the kids”, right before they’re turned into a bleeding porcupine. I take great comfort in the fact that, if a certain object appears for more than three seconds in a Friday the 13th film, then I know that that object is going to be cutting through someone’s anatomy shortly.

The title is ironic too, since this is actually one of the ten prequels to the actual Final Chapter.

The title is ironic too, since this is actually one of the ten prequels to the actual Final Chapter.

I just compared one of my reasons for loving the Friday the 13th series to stepping in my dog’s throw-up. In the literary world, we refer to that kind of analogy as “just okay.”

Crispin Glover’s work in The Final Chapter is Best Supporting Actor Oscar worthy. I don’t know what he was aiming for with it, from his dance moves that seem to have been inspired by swatting at bees to his delivery of every line that makes it sound like he’s unwillingly agreeing to keep a murder secret, but he certainly hits it. It’s a beautiful performance, and, in my opinion, the best in the entire series.

Just after he has sex with one of these twins that happened to have been biking in the area, he goes to get a bottle of wine and ends up getting his hand stabbed to the table with the corkscrew that he was just whining about. He then turns to have a cleaver implanted in his forehead. It’s a nice one-two punch from Jason Vorhees, and just goes to show you that every slasher movie kill could be way more effective if the victim spent about thirty seconds wondering what cabinet the instrument of their demise was located in.


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