Looking back at the Friday the 13th film series, it might be difficult to see Jason Voorhees as anything but a blunt object. While a few directors within the franchise may have fine-tuned the mythos, the values always remain the same: Jason is a murderous force of nature bent on vengeance and violence. However, by 2025, nothing remains apolitical for long – not even horror movie icons.
As the wider culture shifts and fractures, we’ve started the return of old monsters framed in new ideological packaging. The slasher villain, once a figure of fear or farce, is being reinterpreted (sometimes unironically) as an enforcer of order in a world seen as too progressive, too loud, too “woke.” With his IP currently being reintroduced into the pop culture lexicon, what will the resurrection of an icon like Jason Voorhees look like in the world of TikTok, crypto grift, and nostalgia weaponized as fascist propaganda?
To understand how we got here, you have to go back to the origins of Friday the 13th.
Despite all the tropes, disco, The Brady Bunch, shag carpet, orange wallpaper, and more, the 1970s were bleak. America still reeled from the Vietnam War, and the Manson murders shattered the illusion of suburban safety. Crime was spiking, gas was scarce, and the American Dream felt increasingly like a fever. As the country’s psyche frayed, so did its entertainment. People were desensitized, disillusioned, and ready for something darker. Grindhouse horror like The Texas Chain Saw Massacre and The Hills Have Eyes went beyond scaring audiences, intentionally mirroring the disarray of a society rotting from the inside out.
From those ashes rose the slasher boom of the early 1980s. John Carpenter’s Halloween cracked open the genre by turning safe spaces like suburbs, small towns, and your babysitter’s house into hunting grounds. Wes Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street had Freddy Krueger invading the tranquility of your dreams. With the advent of VCRs and cable television, the floodgates were open to all sorts of depraved entertainment.
Then came Jason Voorhees.
The mute juggernaut of the Friday the 13th franchise chopped down teens at Camp Crystal Lake with moralistic precision. Early in the film series, he was a figure of fear. As the sequels came pouring in, Jason became a sort of an anti-hero, at least to those who watched the films for campy fun. The films did provide designated space for visceral horrors, but much like the music on MTV at the time, this franchise quickly leaned harder into the party element. Gratuitous nudity, dark humor, and killing that almost winked at the audience. What better way to match the energy and excess of the youth during the Reagan era?
We now live in the increasingly surreal cultural climate of 2025.
Jason has the strange opportunity to become something else: a reactionary mascot dressed in horror iconography. The horror genre has always mirrored the mood of the moment. In the 2010s, that mirror reflected progressive themes with gender fluidity, racial reckoning, and social justice. But now in the second half of the 2020s, the mirror’s cracked, and what’s peering through is something far more complicated.
Politics have moved beyond the typical Left and Right. Culture is tilting, not just Rightward, but into a post-ironic version of Conservatism. Right-wing YouTubers have become the Republican talking heads vacated by the previous generations’ Rush Limbaugh and Glenn Beck. Alt-Right memes are draped in nostalgia and wrapped in sardonic humor in a way that is pitched as relatable common sense.
It’s not a clean ideological shift, but a chaotic one. And Jason Voorhees fits right in.
Think about it: Jason doesn’t talk, so he doesn’t post, hence there’s no debate. He punishes sex, drugs, and rebellion with ruthless efficiency. He represents a kind of anti-modern myth of someone who returns, again and again, to reset the order when the world gets too loud, too sexual, and too free.
That resonates with a specific demographic with curious (and curiously hateful) aesthetic preferences. So-called “traditional” values are being rebranded and sold back to younger audiences under the guise of irony-laced rebellion. Trad-core, cottagecore, Christian nationalism, “tradwife” TikToks—it’s all part of the same cultural undercurrent. It paints Jason not as a dangerous slasher to be feared, but as an enforcer of values that feel, to some, like a return to “purity.”
It could be argued that horror has shifted in that particular direction, too.
Gone are the days when A24-style existential dread dominates the conversation. Now, we see a wave of films that glorify old-school morality, demonize progress, and embrace reactionary fear. There’s a growing subgenre where the villain is progress itself, whether it’s liberal overreach, urban decay, immigration, or science gone too far. The vibes are ripped straight from the far-Right’s doomscrolling.
Even the aesthetics have shifted, with VHS filters, American flags, Bible verses, and grainy footage of a “simpler” time. We’ve already seen countless throwbacks to 1980s horror films. Hell Fest, Thanksgiving, and In A Violent Nature are all perfect examples of genre films that wouldn’t exist if not for the Friday the 13th heyday. Even micro-budget Christian horror flicks like Nefarious have found shocking mainstream appeal.
“Anti-woke” slashers gain popularity for mocking “diverse” friend groups and “cancel culture.” Jason Voorhees, with his lumbering gait and brutal code, fits that mood perfectly. He punishes modernity without ever having to justify it. He doesn’t have to speak, but his message is clear: order through violence, purity through fear, and nostalgia as a weapon.
But let’s be real for a second: That is what’s dangerous.
The rise of Jason as a potential Alt-Right icon isn’t just ironic cosplay. It’s part of a broader Right-Wing project to reclaim cultural territory. As conservative grifters flood TikTok and YouTube with trad-life aesthetics and masculine self-help jargon, horror has become another front in the war for cultural dominance.
For decades, the genre has been a sandbox for queer subtext, rebellion, and subversive satire. Unfortunately, it’s now being colonized by people who see horror not as a critique but as confirmation. But here’s the thing: the slasher genre was never truly Conservative. Not in its heart anyway.
It may have used the architecture of morality tales (sex = death, “Final Girls” survive, etc.), but it was crafted by outsiders. Punks, misfits, and blue-collar filmmakers were more interested in upsetting the censors than pushing purity. Part 2 was director Steve Miner’s first film. Part 5‘s director, Danny Steinmann, produced adult films. Adam Marcus, the writer and director of the polarizing Jason Goes To Hell, was 23 years old! The entire franchise was born out of the desire to make money, but the productions let their creators improvise.
Despite the standard issue of good vs. evil, the Friday the 13th series traditionally had no politics to speak of.
Jason may have slashed the pot smokers and fornicators, but he also killed legitimately good people as well. Mrs. Jarvis from Part 4 and Colleen from Part 8 come to mind. In fact, no one is safe in this universe, including dogs, the disabled, law enforcement, and even expecting mothers (so much for the Pro-Life stance). For every kill that makes an argument for Jason being Conservative, there’s a rebuttal that says otherwise.
Of course, none of these films or their creators are encouraging viewers to abandon their spiritual beliefs, but that’s not the point. I spoke with Part 6 director, Tom McLoughlin, regarding a scene where a child seemingly protects herself by way of prayer. He admitted the scene had more to do with the innocence of the character than advocating a higher power.
That’s the most important part of any horror movie: identifying with the protagonist. Not the antagonist.
Upon a closer look at the “unwritten rules” of surviving a horror movie, they’re more strategic than moral. If anything, the Final Girl trope became one of the first modern symbols of female empowerment in film. Whether we’re talking about Alice from Friday the 13th, Ripley from Alien, Nancy from A Nightmare on Elm Street, or Laurie from Halloween, each survivor doesn’t win because she’s good, but because she’s smart, adaptable, and refuses to go quietly. This is what we all should find relatable and strive to be.
Let’s not forget: the Religious Right originally hated Jason as much as the critics and film snobs. They rallied against him. They saw Friday the 13th as emblematic of cultural decay. Now, a few decades later, some of those cultural descendants are eager to reclaim him. Not because they misunderstood him, but because they’re rewriting him to fit in their shifting narrative that conservatism is the new punk rock.
Horror fans need to push back and remind everyone that the genre is inclusive.
The rebranding of horror icons by Right-Wing voices isn’t just a meme but an effective way of normalizing authoritarian values. By dressing them up in nostalgia and irony, it reframes chaos as morality, fear as justice, and violence as order. That might feel clever in a TikTok reel, but it’s more in line with cultural regression. Much like Sydney Sweeney’s eugenics-laden American Eagle ad or Danzig’s Nazi shirt, these marketers are either complicit, clueless, or quietly pushing a narrative.
We might turn to entertainment to unwind, but fascism doesn’t start with jackboots and flags. It creeps in through populism, especially during times of unrest. That’s why Far-Right ideologies are gaining ground with younger generations. But when we recognize these shifts in horror films, pop music, and online spaces, we have the power to stand against them. When we do this, we choke off the space that lets extremism grow in the shadows of our culture.
Horror at its best challenges power.
It speaks for the marginalized, the voiceless, the violated. It’s queer, it’s loud, it’s defiant. And yes, sometimes it’s messy. But that messiness is essential. Look at the most recent legacy sequels to Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and The Exorcist. One tackles cancel culture, one takes direct aim at what the Right Wing labels “woke,” and the last becomes a Christian film in its third act. When horror becomes too clean, too righteous, too aligned with tradition, it stops being horror and becomes propaganda.
As much as I love the Friday the 13th franchise and horror movies in general, I don’t want to see an icon like Jason Voorhees become the poster child for incel bro influencers, like how badge worshipers hijacked The Punisher from Marvel. You’re free to vote for who you want and the conviction of your political and/or spiritual beliefs. But when your personal code promotes hatred, violence, or ethnic cleansing, you’re on the wrong side of history.
Jason may be back, but this time, it’s important to take a closer look at who’s cheering him on and why.
The Friday the 13th franchise is being reborn with a new prequel TV series, a new short film, a new video game, merchandise, and eventually a theatrical outing. The culture might embrace him with open arms and ironic T-shirts. Horror fans shouldn’t let that resurrection go unchecked and unchallenged. Because behind the hockey mask, there’s more than a machete. There’s a narrative. In 2025, we’d better make sure the wrong people aren’t writing it. In a world where voting a certain way is nearly as dangerous as being queer, a woman, or any other color than white, horror must be protected.
Let’s make sure we remember who the monster really is.
For an in-depth look at the making of the Friday the 13th franchise, please check out our Crystal Lake Confessional series.