Resurrected by an underwater electrical cable (a good source of power and vitamins for the dead), Jason Voorhees, the unstoppable hockey-masked serial killer is nearly showroom ready YET AGAIN. A believable though predictable beginning for Friday the 13th Part VIII: Jason Takes Manhattan (1989).
A boat load of dumbass high school dumbasses are pleasure boating up the coast to go spread their dumbassery around New York. Jason loves boats (kyaks in particular), so he grabs hold of the S.S. Scream ’n Die’s anchor and gets a Lyft™.
What few survivors left escape by row, row, rowing the rest of the way to New York, where Jason follows. Strolling the well-littered streets of Manhattan, Jason punches a mouthy gangbanger so hard, his head comes clean off. A bit dramatic, but hey, JV was just excited to be anywhere except Crystal Lake for a change.
In town with a few days to kill (heh), Jason takes in the sights: Times Square, the sewer system (kind of the same thing), and a nightclub (he skated without paying cover). The movie’s ongoing joke is that one of horror’s most prolific killing machines could walk mostly unnoticed among the city’s jaded residents.
Jason gets a taste of New York hospitality when toxic waste is poured into the sewer and his flesh dissolves like Alka-Seltzer™ after a long night killin’ it in the City That Never Sleeps. (He’ll be back.)
Say what you will about the Big Apple – you can’t get this kind of entertainment in Los Angeles.