Freddy Krueger is feeling a bit like Joey Buttafuoco. It's not so much that he minds being dead, “but being forgotten is a bitch.” In the course of just four years, the police department has managed to cover up every trace of his existence. They systematically altered and/or erased all public records and quarantined any child with knowledge of Krueger to the Westin Hills loony bin. As a further measure of security, similar to President Bush's “No Child Left Behind” Act, the town's parents spike their children's OJ with Hypnocil, a wonderdrug that suppresses dreams. No one afraid, no one dreaming, no one in danger.

With no pre-sexual playmates to pass the time, Krueger plots a comeback. Enter Jason Voorhees, the eleven-year-old pawn in this preposterous ploy. By sneaking into his dreams, and assuming the shape of Mother Voorhees, Freddy is able to rouse the goalie ghoul from his shallow grave. Jason brings his machete to 1428 Elm St. where an unsupervised party is underway and promptly dispatches one of the football stars, folding him in half for good measure. A short while later, across town, he kills a boy and his father.

The cops fear the worst and in not-so-subtle fashion interrogate the survivors as to the frequency of their dreams and any suspicious knife-fingered hooligans that may have been in them. The conspiracy begins to unravel and word quickly passes between the students that someone named Freddy was responsible. Adding insult to injury, two of Westin's inmates with direct knowledge of Freddy Krueger escape from the asylum and try to warn people. Indeed, everything is developing according to plan. Krueger is strong enough to torture again! Woohoo!

Only trouble is Jason is still indiscriminately slashing and decapitating and impaling the humble residents of Elm Street. Krueger is clueless as to how to stop him. Compounding matters, the teenagers (the ones that have names, anyway) are working together to hatch a scheme to rid the town of both foes. I'll give you a clue: It involves pitting both killers against each other! Mano versus Mano. Go figure.

Despite a gratuitous dependence on shitty CG effects, horrendous Noir-esque narration, thirty-year-old teenagers, and material stolen from a dozen (better) films, Freddy VS Jason is still amazingly entertaining. Really, the secret lies in being able to satisfy the expectations of fans of both series. For Freddy fans, there are plenty of sarcastic one-liners, tongue-in-cheek tortures, and inventive dreamscapes. Y los juntos Jason, you've got an impressive body count of sixteen sexy singles; in addition to the usual knife-related naughtiness, you've got one decapitation, one dismemberment, one electrocution, two impalements, and two crushings. When the two supernatural superkillers finally turn on each other, well, you almost feel as though you're watching Yimou Zhang's beautifully choreographed Shi mian mai fu. Almost. Ok, well, that or a Three Stooges short. But you get the idea.