Before production on the teen slasher A Long Night at Camp Blood had even started, before a final draft of the screenplay had even been submitted, thirtysomething writer-producer-director Sean S Cunningham decided to make an audacious statement. Not only would he use an advert in the industry paper Variety to confirm an inarguably ingenious title change but he would also use it to declare that his next film would be the most terrifying ever made, after a decade that saw The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Last House on the Left (which he also produced), The Exorcist and Halloween.

In 1980, when Friday the 13th was eventually released to an eager early summer audience, it may have failed to live up to such a lofty promise but it did deliver on the brashness of such a gambit. Violent, nasty, sexually explicit and hinged on a jaw-dropper of a reveal, it was the seedier, sillier sister to Halloween that enraged the morality brigade but seduced its teenage target audience. Designed as a way of cashing in on John Carpenter’s 1978 hit, Cunningham’s film boiled down the burgeoning slasher subgenre to the basest of elements – attractive young characters and grisly death scenes – and on a shoestring budget, showed that there was a hungry, underserved audience for such a basic formula. These films didn’t need expensive stars or elaborate stunts or even particularly strong actors (Cunningham admits he didn’t particularly care if the cast were anything more than likable and competent at reading lines and it’s only a young Kevin Bacon who makes a mark), they just needed to shock, scare and repulse and that May, Friday the 13th managed all three, becoming a surprise smash, kickstarting what was, until very recently, the most successful horror franchise in history (2018’s Halloween sequel helped to knock it off the top).

Watching it 40 years later, the barebones “horny camp counsellors get murdered” plot and hackneyed dialogue (screenwriter Victor Miller went on to mainly work on soap operas) are easy to ridicule, as they were at the time, but the film’s far-reaching impact on the genre is hard to discount. While the low-budget success of Halloween had already set in motion the chain of cheap rip-offs that would permeate the 80s, it was Friday the 13th that truly expedited the process and arguably shared more in common with the majority of imitators thanks to its lighter tone and gorier deaths. The total lack of characterisation meant that the killings had little impact, turning what could have been a gruelling endurance test into a date night funhouse and setting a template for how disposable these ciphers could be in the future.

It was a considerable hit at the time, making almost $60m internationally from a budget of less than $600,000 and such a staggering profit margin meant that sequels were inevitable but no one could have known just how many there would be and how, to this day, hockey mask-wearing villain Jason Voorhees would remain a haunting cultural figure, known even to those who have never seen a single Friday the 13th film. He’s been name-checked in songs by Tupac, Dr Dre and Eminem (who has also worn his mask onstage), referenced in The Simpsons, Family Guy and South Park and inconceivably became the first fictional character to win an MTV lifetime achievement award.

What’s still fascinating about the first film is that neither Jason nor his mask are even to blame for the death count. Jason drowned as a kid at Camp Crystal Lake (then termed Camp Blood by gossiping locals), his death partly the result of inattentive counsellors and in the finale, we learn that it’s actually his vengeful mother, played by veteran actor Betsy Palmer, who has been slicing up those who dared to work there ever since. It’s a doozy of a twist (even if it does play into a long-running cliche that grief turns mums into psychopaths) but after final girl Alice (played with little to no conviction by Adrienne King) decapitates her, the door seemed firmly shut on any possible follow-up.

A scene of Alice floating on the lake in a boat was supposed to be the last but makeup designer, and soon-to-be horror heavyweight, Tom Savini had just seen Carrie and so suggested a jump shock ending that would introduce at least the idea that Jason was somehow still alive, a nonsensical development that then spawned a franchise. On release, Friday the 13th was dismissed by most critics as schlock but by some as reprehensible schlock, including Gene Siskel who was so outraged by the film that he called Cunningham “one of the most despicable creatures ever to infest the movie business” while sharing Palmer’s home town with readers in the hopes they would share their disgust with her (the actor herself referred to the script as a “piece of shit”). Halloween had hardly had an easy time with critics (Pauline Kael called it “basic” and “childish”), but it quickly gained respect, something that’s never been afforded to Friday the 13th even with its continued prominence in the horror genre.

It’s by far the lesser film, its meandering pace and lack of a single character to root for (final girl Alice was so disposable that she was killed off in the first scene of the sequel) making it a surprising slog, but it landed at the start of what would be a boom decade for films aimed at a teenage audience, both in and out of the horror genre. It didn’t exactly wear its smarts on its sleeve but there was a savviness to what it was offering and how it was being offered that made it commercially appealing and prophetic for an industry that had been underestimating the importance of a younger demographic. The second film, originally intended to be part of an anthology based on superstitions, was a gory rehash but it turned Jason into an immortal antagonist, seemingly impossible to kill, allowing him to return in another 10 films, including one which was set in space, one that saw him fight Freddy Krueger and one that rebooted the story entirely. There was also a TV series, a collection of toys, a number of novels and a string of video games – a small budget B-movie that became an unusual horror-based multimillion-dollar brand, a fitting start to a decade typified by the desire for more.

It’s been 11 years since the last installment and after the surprise success of 2018’s Halloween sequel, rumours suggest that Jason might be coming back from the dead yet again with superfan LeBron James keen to usher his return (the basketball player has already released a line of Friday the 13th-inspired footwear with Nike as well as dressing up as Jason for Halloween). But the return of Michael Myers was a box office event because it was also the return of Jamie Lee Curtis as Laurie Strode. Similarly, the makers of the recently announced new Scream film have been in discussions with Neve Campbell to reprise the role of Sidney Prescott, aware that mass audience investment in these films now relies on more than just a bad guy. While the focus on Jason, at the expense of any real protagonist, might have made him the sole star of the Friday the 13th franchise, and as a result, an effective cash cow, it might also make a comeback that much harder. In 2009, the slick reboot might have opened to big numbers but it fell fast, catastrophically so, initial curiosity mutating into widespread lack of interest.

While horror continues to prove profitable, slasher films have faded, the post-Scream surge dying down soon after, and it’s unclear how Jason, and Jason alone, might fit into a new decade. Killing teens is no longer enough, no matter how brutally, and if and when Jason does return, his luck may have run out.