Crystal Lake

Creator: Brad Caleb Kane
Starring: Linda Cardellini, William Catlett, Gwendolyn Sundstrom, Cameron Scoggins, Devin Kessler, Callum Vinson, Jonathan Tison, Nick Cordileone, Neal Huff, Daniel Stewart Sherman, William Hill, Bernadette Quigley, Joy Suprano, Danielle Kotch, Phoenix Parnevik, Jason Fuchs, Manon Gage, Oona Roche, Hamish Linklater, Nathan Darrow, Tonya Glanz
Original Airdate: 2026

**This Review Contains Plot Spoilers**  

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

You'd figure it has to be tough for uninitiated or even more casual Friday the 13th fans to completely comprehend that Jason Voorhees wasn't always a hockey mask wearing killer. Or that his now iconic look can be traced to a throwaway moment in the franchise's second sequel. And there's an equally good chance they may not know Jason didn't start out as a murderer, much less the main character of his own story. But the idea that viewers can still dip in and out of this saga at their own discretion has remained its notable characteristic, both for better and worse. Now, after a seventeen year legal battle over the property's rights, A24 and Peacock's Crystal Lake gets to have it both ways, with enough time having passed to reset this for the masses and throw a bone to hardcore fans still demanding an explanation for all the craziness they've witnessed over the years. 

For most horror villains, going deep into their origin story carries a risk of neutering the terror or demystifying them as a threat, with Michael Myers cited as a frequent example. But Jason is different. As a character who's been resurrected by telekinesis, taken Manhattan, fought Freddy and went to space, an updated backstory isn't about to do any more harm. And while the franchise's ability to laugh at itself has always been key to its popularity, that lifeless 2009 big screen reboot signaled the need for a nice, long break. You can't miss something until it's gone, so when the nostalgia infused opening credits start to roll on this, it's easy to feel the excitement that comes with operating in a new medium and under very different circumstances.   

It's 1971 and Pamela Voorhees (Linda Cardellini) works as a cook at Camp Crystal Lake in New Jersey, where her disfigured and disabled son Jason (Callum Vinson) is bullied by other campers for his appearance. Suffering from debilitating seizures, his only friend is Grace Snell (Gwendolyn Sundstrom), with whom he sets up a secret fortress in an an abandoned cabin the woods. But one day when Jason attempts to retrieve a ball in the deep end of the lake, he drowns while counselors Claudette (Danielle Kotch) and Barry (Phoenix Parnevik) are busy having sex. 

Jason's remains are never recovered, and nine months later, a devastated Pam insists Jason's still out there despite local Police Chief Levon Brooks (William Catlett) trying to help her move on. But when the arrival of two mysterious detectives at her doorstep leads to a violent altercation, Pam tries to hide their deaths along with a traumatic past she thought would never catch up with her. 

The imminent reopening of camp is an emotional trigger for Pam, even as she tries to do for a vulnerable Grace what she couldn't for Jason, shielding the young girl from an abusive mom (Tonya Glanz) and the  traveling hippie group who take her under their wing. And while Levon's feelings for Pam grow, his journalist sister Briana (Devin Kessler) attempts to help him identify the bodies of those two men, potentially uncovering a much larger conspiracy in the process. But as more murders pile up, the locals become convinced something's lurking in those woods. And it isn't just a bear. 

Once we see that familiar opening title sequence, Harry Manfredini's unmistakable theme kicks in and we get our first glimpse of Crystal Lake, it becomes clearer this will take a page from the original films to create its own universe. Replicating the earliest entries' look and feel with a visually updated atmosphere, the production is top shelf throughout, complete with some great looking blood and gore effects. And though its debt to the entries that preceded this are obvious and pronounced, it doesn't tip over into excessive fan service. 

While devotees will appreciate the little details and Easter eggs (like those episode titles), it's as effective an introduction for those who haven't seen a single entry in the franchise and don't know what to expect. In other words, it's very much a prequel, playing fast and loose with a continuity that's been on shaky ground for decades, taking full advantage of the opportunity to reset. 

The most noticeable change is a timeline that's moved up from the '50's to early 70's, where we meet Pamela and her precious Jason, whose disability shuts him out from the world. For the longest time these events have been depicted as folklore, frequently alluded to without being explained or shown. 

Jason's drowning is viewed in a whole new context once we see the exact circumstances surrounding it, clarifying why Pam can't and won't let go. Since the films were straight ahead slashers, they just didn't allow for that kind of development, letting us fill in the blanks of a legend that frightens and threatens prospective counselors faced with its fallout. 

The choice to depict Jason as a sweet, good natured kid undone by horrible circumstances makes sense, as he doesn't yet show signs of what we know he'll become, giving the accident a more tragic undercurrent. Despite being buried under pounds of prosthetics, Callum Vinson plays young Jason exactly right, putting on a brave face as he soldiers through the bullying with a sense of hopeless resignation. And considering how Pam's entire world revolves around her son, she's slow to accept any form of what happens to him as reality.  

The million dollar question of whether it's really Jason in those woods drives the narrative, but so do a handful of other mysteries related to that theory, like who or what he could have evolved into in just under a year. Though the series could still be pulling a bait and switch, the possibility Jason survived the impossible gives Pam hope, driving a quest for revenge that's further fueled by the treatment she receives from judgy, insensitive townsfolk. And if there's an aspect all these episodes nail best, it's a Crystal Lake populated by quirky, colorful characters that could have stepped out of any of the 80's sequels. 

You really sense that feeling with Cameron Scoggins' cocky, clueless cop Dorf, Nick Cordileone's interpretation of traumatized war vet "Crazy" Ralph, the dim bulbs who frequent Trudy's restaurant and hippies whose presence provide the best justification for setting the story in this era. 

This also extends to other supporting characters like sleazy, manipulative life coach Wilhelm (Nathan Darrow) and Grace's abusive mom Valerie (Tonya Glanz) But it's Chief Levon Brooks who emerges as the series' moral center, with William Catlett giving what's easily the most complete and assured performance of a law enforcement official we've seen in this franchise.  

Wrestling with romantic feelings for Pam, Levon investigates the murders unaware two worlds are about to collide, even while attempting to overcome lingering perceptions from his own past. But none of that compares to the skeletons that spill from Pam's closet once she's located by those threatening men, if only because it means more will follow. 

Though it's tainted by lies and deception, the most affecting subplot just might be Pam's connection with Grace, the only person who looked past Jason's appearance to see him for who he was. She'll become the replacement child of sorts for a grateful, protective Pam, at least until free-spirited hippie Harmony (an excellent Manon Gage) swoops in.

The tension between Pam, the irresponsible counselors who left Jason to die and these hippies lead to disaster, and a shocking recontextualization of one of the original film's most famous scenes. It's the twist that officially signals nothing's off limits and the series is playing by its own rules. And if that doesn't sell you, the penultimate episode surely will. 

In boldly answering nearly every question anyone's had about Jason and his mom, episode 7 ("Fridays...") flashes back to Pam's life before she escaped with him to Crystal Lake. Stylishly shot by director Quyen Tran, Mad Men enters The Twilight Zone when a shadowy conspiracy explains the unexplainable as it relates to Jason. And sliding in with just a couple of episodes left, Hamlish Linklater assumes the key role as game changing villain Elias Wittering. 

Over the span of barely an hour, Linklater's Wittering has a jaw dropping arc, with the actor supplying this uptight mix of unchecked ambition and diabolical greed wrapped in a "nice guy" facade. But what's more surprising than his relationship to Pam and Jason is the character's complete belief that he and this company are serving the greater good, a goal laid bare in a memorable speech that answers our biggest questions. It also explains why the story's moving at such a breakneck pace, to the point we wouldn't be shocked to see Jason don the hockey mask before season's end. Of course he doesn't, but we're arguably given the next best thing.

The long undervalued Cardellini isn't asked to fill Betsy Palmer's shoes since her take on Pamela Voorhees hinges on a different, more complex backstory that puts the character front and center for all eight episodes. And does she ever deliver, taking Pam on a journey that paints her as a sympathetic protagonist sent over the edge by cataclysmic event. Everything always comes back to Jason, but once we're privy to what both have been through, Cardellini's performance only hits harder in retrospect. It's easy to understand how Pam winds up where she is, and why it won't get any better, whether Jason's alive or not.

While technically a prequel, that label doesn't fully reflect how creator Brad Caleb Kane repurposes the most important pieces of Friday the 13th into its own entity. Because of this, the rest of the films remain untouched, even as their tone and spirit infiltrate every aspect of this production. 

By knowing where to draw the line between drama and dark humor, the series is imbued with a sense of creative unity that's remained frustratingly elusive to the franchise until now. Far from a slow burn, the writers seem to be fast tracking Jason to the deadly incarnation with which we're most familiar. And though that's already closer than anyone expected, it's still a grieving mother's anger and suffering that sets it all into motion, adding valuable context to one of horror's longest running campfire stories.