The film is too casually misanthropic and enamored of its expulsive prosthetic virtuosity to be politically relevant, and it's not clear what response -- shame? outrage? titillation? -- Roth is after.. This film should be campy fun, but in Bekmambetov's unsteady hands, it feels laboured and unsatisfying.. You really have to screw it up to dishonor the memory of a movie as s****y as the original Friday the 13th. Heads should roll.. Despite its factual dismemberment of the movie's namesake, Hunter...
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