When Sean S. Cunningham began work on the original “Friday the 13th” almost 30 years ago, he had nothing more than a title and a vague idea about making a horror film in the vein of John Carpenter’s ultra-successful “Halloween.” In the intervening three decades, “Friday” became one of the most profitable horror franchises ever, and Jason Voorhees, the machete-wielding killer who loves hockey masks and hates campers, became a movie icon, spawning 10 sequels, dozens of comic books and novels, and even a video game. Jason’s been everywhere from Manhattan and Camp Crystal Lake—his home turf and the site of his many crimes against morally-bankrupt summer visitors—to the reaches of outer space and, appropriately enough, Hell.

With all that history, director Marcus Nispel and writers Damian Shannon and Mark Swift certainly had more to work from than Cunningham did for their reboot of “Friday the 13th.” But remakes and reboots of beloved series are always a gamble, particularly for horror flicks like “Friday,” which come with a built-in legion of hardcore fans eager to howl about even the tiniest misstep. The thing about the “Friday” franchise, though, is the movies, though iconic, were never all that great to begin with. The original “Friday the 13th” still pales in comparison to “Halloween” and “A Nightmare on Elm Street,” and a reboot, even one helmed by a merely competent director like Nispel, couldn’t be any worse than, say, “Friday the 13th Part VIII: Jason Takes Manhattan.”

And thankfully, it’s not. Nispel’s “Friday the 13th” is about what you’d expect from a “Friday” movie. Good-looking 20-somethings get maimed and murdered in the New Jersey wilderness by a giant dude in a hockey mask. There’s a fair amount of boob shots, drug use and bad jokes, and all the crimes against morality (and humor) are balanced out by Jason’s machete of vengeance. It’s neither scary nor suspenseful, but it is entertaining and fun—exactly the sort of mindless entertainment the “Friday” films have always dished out.

The last two “Friday” films saw Jason in space (2001’s “Jason X”) and facing off against Freddy Krueger (the razor-fingered wise-cracking antagonist from “A Nightmare on Elm Street,” also scheduled for an upcoming remake) in “Freddy vs. Jason.” For the reboot, Nispel and company take a back-to-basics approach to the deadly summertime proceedings at Crystal Lake. “Friday” starts with a quick recap—in a pre-credit sequence set in 1980, we see Jason’s mother, Pamela, ready to kill the last surviving counselor at Camp Crystal Lake. Little Jason drowned in the lake, it seems, and the camp’s counselors were too busy drinking, smoking and screwing to pay attention. But Miss Voorhees’ vengeance is (ahem) cut short when her head gets lopped off by a machete.

The main story picks up 30 years later, when a group of teens, including Whitney Miller (Amanda Righetti), go poking around the abandoned ruins of Camp Crystal Lake in search of a mythical crop of pot. They’re all quickly dispatched by Jason himself (hulking stuntman Derek Mears), who, it turns out, didn’t actually drown all those years ago. He’s carrying a grudge about his dead mom—and wielding the machete that killed her. Six months later, Whitney’s brother Clay (Jared Padalecki) turns up in Crystal Lake, searching for his missing sister. The locals tell him to buzz off, but Clay’s certain Whitney can be found in the area. During his search, he runs into Jenna (Danielle Panabaker) and her friends, a collection of stereotypes out of an Abercrombie catalogue on their way to a friend’s summer house on the lake, ready to engage in the sort of behavior Jason thoroughly dislikes.

And so it goes. A hot chick gets impaled on a coat hook, a dumb jock gets an arrow through his eye, and, well, you can imagine the rest. The focus in “Friday” has always been on creating inventive kills for Jason, and while writers Shannon and Swift (who also worked on “Freddy vs. Jason”) come up short with the murder set-pieces in the second half, the first half of the film is wonderfully tense. A well-placed bear trap, a sleeping bag and a roaring campfire are all used to create one of the film’s truly suspenseful moments.

Nispel, a veteran music video director who helmed the 2003 remake of “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,” still doesn’t have a handle on creating mood or atmosphere, and all too often relies on dirty, rundown buildings, decaying antiques and children’s toys as visual shorthand for spookiness. Nispel could probably make a kick-ass movie about a haunted antique shop, but here, it just doesn’t work.

Another thing that doesn’t work in “Friday” is the music. Harry Manfredini’s memorable score from the original “Friday,” featuring the trademark “ki ki ki, ma ma ma” sound, was instrumental in setting up all the scares. Steve Jablonsky’s new score pales in comparison, and the occasional incidental electronic music really kills the mood. Shannon and Swift make some curious choices in the script, too, particularly Jason’s seeming mastery of building elaborate underground tunnels and setting up electrical systems. With an unstoppable killing machine like Jason, fewer explanations (and painstakingly crafted feats of engineering) are generally better.

For all the things that don’t work in “Friday,” there are plenty that do work, and it all adds up to big, dumb, disposable fun. It’s not the greatest of the “Friday” films, but it’s by no means the worst. Twelve films and hundreds of millions in box office profits have proven the “Friday” formula works. Nispel and producer Michael Bay finally seem to have figured out that, if a remake must be done, sticking to the tried and true recipe, however bloody it is, is a safe bet.