This is a post I’ve been meaning to write for awhile. When I recently went to the theater to see the wretched Friday the 13th remake/revision/re-fried beans, there was a father behind me with his 8-10 year old son. I had a major ass-id flashback when I overheard him telling his son, “Cover your eyes!” whenever nudity was shown.
“Cover your eyes!” The adage of the forbidden. The phrase my parents often demanded of me when renting schlocky horror and fantasy films (they were my dad’s favorite VHS tapes to rent) whenever there was any hint of an upcoming boobs, butts, or both.
In fact, at the showing of F13, there were a fair amount of kids. My favorite was a dumpy looking mother with her dumpy looking tween son that was wearing a Girls Gone Wild t-shirt.
What bothers me is that these parents don’t even stop to consider what these films do to their kids’ brains (if they have any, for that matter – the big dopes or their offspring).
At least the father behind me was sorta censoring his spawn’s input.
As an example of the warping that can occur, let me bring up a few things that warped my mind in the original series:
1) It made me scared of NYC. I haven’t been sure of the origin of my fear. This intro makes it look not-so-inviting:
2) It made me scared of loud random noises. In the middle of the night one time, I kept hearing this scary uggh type noise. I thought the devil was speaking through my TV or something. Ended up being a spider in the fire alarm, but whew! I flipped the fuck out. Now listen to the crap noise they call “music” that plays through the opening of Jason Goes to Hell: The Final (hah!) Friday:
3) It made me scared of getting naked, et. al. People die, folks. People die! That’s why I shower in my bathing suit. Just in case.