Willow Maclay’s review published on Letterboxd:
After a multitude of teenagers are swept away and killed in these movies only one person remains distinct in my memory. "Dead-Fuck" Crispin Glover manages to do the unthinkable: giving a memorable performance in a Friday the 13th film. He gets by on authenticity. He has the same attitude that befalls all of his toxically masculine friends, but he's awkward & Glover imbues him with a lived-in quality by chasing the weird. He leans into it with his entire body. This is never more clear than in the scene where he turns on a generic slab of 80s cock-rock and dances in an unconventional manner. He scoops his arms out like he's carrying a large basin of water, then spins his hands around in a circular motion all while stopping and starting as if he had gears that were locked up and needed oiling. This has managed to become the most popular scene in the entire franchise, and that was almost certainly never the intention. He elevates every scene he's in through sheer body language. He's different than the others, because he's not trying to impress or have sex with anyone, though he thinks that would be nice. He merely exists within himself. That alone is enough to make him one of the richer characters in the history of slasher films, but is especially remarkable in the Friday the 13th series whose goals as a horror franchise are less lofty and its characters almost entirely disposable. Save for one.