Not only does Friday the 13th mark the day Donald Trump descended upon the UK, it’s also Jason Vorhees’ birthday (not sure how that works). So let’s raise a glass to the malformed hellbeast, and his wife Melania. 

The ego has landed.

The world’s most formulaic franchise ploughs on in this 1984 slasher called Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter even though it isn’t. This sequel ups the comedy, the body count, the nudity and the size of the dog, but still continues to get more boring. The “plot” this time involves Jason escaping from the morgue (and therefore death) and terrorising another group of teenagers at Crystal Lake, including Crispin Glover as one of the series’ more likeable characters. Which is a bit like being one of the sexier cabinet ministers.

Corey Feldman is also good as a 12-year-old boy, providing something slightly new for the franchise along with quite a fun ending. It’s an improvement on its predecessor because there are no racist black characters (presumably the only black people in the county were killed in the last movie) and at least this one isn’t in gimmicky 3D. The nipples alone would have your eye out. The kills are scattered across more locations than that one barn in Part 3 and are gorily entertaining for the most part. In fact you could save yourself time by simply watching a kill compilation on YouTube, but then you’d miss Crispin Glover’s bodacious dance moves.