Red One, on Prime

According to scientists, polar bears really belong at the top of the planetary food chain, because so many of them have a taste for eating people. Therefore, a big talking polar bear like Agent Garcia ought to provide all the protection Santa Claus needs. Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson is also considered fairly formidable for a mere mortal. Yet, somehow the bad guys still kidnap Santa while both ELF (Enforcement, Logistics, and Fortification) Agents were on the job. Even though he is only human, Johnson’s Callum Drift won’t take this threat to Christmas laying down, so he decides to flip the clueless hacker who helped facilitate the crisis in Jake Kasdan’s Red One, which starts streaming today on Prime Video.

Agent Drift intends to retire after this Christmas, so you know what that always means: trouble. Masked mercs abduct Santa spiriting him away through a hole in the North Pole security system. Of course, a blame-America-first leftist like Tulsi Gabbard would say Santa was asking for it, because of his security arrangement with NATO. Regardless, it took some serious computing power to detect the secret location of Santa’s workshop, but Bah-humbugging black-hat and self-described bounty-hunter Jack O’Malley inadvertently supplied the necessary data by hacking national science networks.

To avoid further beatings from Drift, O’Malley agrees to work with ELF to follow the trail of his anonymous client, who turns out to Gryla, the Icelandic winter witch. As a former associate of Santa’s adopted brother Krampus, she always believed Santa was too lenient on the “naughty-listers,” like O’Malley. By stealing Santa’s powers, she intends to finally deal out the punishment she believes they richly deserve.

Chris Morgan’s screenplay cleverly incorporates a lot of slightly macabre Christmas lore, including Gryla and Krampus. However, Kiernan Shipka’s portrayal of the Christmas witch and the special effects surrounding her are consistently overshadowed by the more colorful characters. That definitely includes Kristofer Hivju’s imposing Krampus, who is more grouch than demon.

In truth, nobody is more colorful than J.K. Simmons, who looks quite fit—and even downright cut—as old kris. Frankly, he makes cookies and milk look a better muscle building supplement than any GNC powder. As usual, Simmons can land a sharp one-liner, but his sarcasm is gentler this time around—because he is Santa. He also develops great chemistry with Bonnie Hunt, who really should have had more screentime as Mrs. Claus.

Of course, the Rock does his thing, which includes milking Drift’s humorlessness for humor. Basically, Johnson acts like the film is titled The Fast and the Jolly, which should be totally fine with his fans. It is also nice to see Lucy Liu get to kick some butt to as Zoe Harlow, the chief of the clandestine MORA (Mythological Oversight and Restoration Authority) agency. However, Chris Evans’ portrayal of O’Malley, the hacker and jerkweed absentee father, needed more charm and less smugness.

It’s a Wonderful Knife, Co-Starring Joel McHale

Lionel Barrymore's nasty financier in It’s a Wonderful Life won’t look so bad anymore after watching this movie. Sure, he’s greedy and unethical, but he isn’t violent. George Bailey and Bedford Falls didn’t know how good they had it. Over in Angel Falls, rapacious town developer Henry Waters also happens to be a serial killer. Winnie Carruthers stopped him on the night of his first killings, naturally on Christmas Eve. Unfortunately, next year, when Carruthers is feeling unappreciated in the manner moody Gen Z’ers so often do, she wishes she had never been born and magically gets her wish. To return to how things were, she must stop Waters again in Tyler MacIntyre’s It’s a Wonderful Knife, which opens this Friday in theaters.

Waters wanted Roger Evans’ old family home, but the unintimidated old man refuses to sell, promising to pass it along to his granddaughter Cara instead. In his “Snow Angel” costume (which almost too closely resembles Moon Knight), Waters slashes Evans to death at home and then does the same to his granddaughter at the Christmas party she was attending. Things get pretty messy at this point, but Carruthers manages to save her brother Jimmy and kill the homicidal Waters.

A year later, everybody seems to be taking her for granted. NYU declined to accept her, which rather makes sense now, since she prevented mass murders, rather than demonstrating in favor of them. Her parents, David and Julie, focus solely on Jimmy and her boyfriend is openly cheating on her. Hence, her George Bailey wish. Then, presto, she finds Angel Falls is suddenly a dreary shadow of its former self, broken by the Snow Angel’s year-long reign of terror. Sadly, nobody is more damaged than her family, with the exception of her cool aunt Gale Prescott (a Scream reference, as horror fans have surely heard by now). Aside from Prescott, only the perennially bullied Bernie Simon (a.k.a. “Weirdo”) might help her and maybe also make her rethink her orientation.

Probably a third of Knife’s characters are LGBTQ which is way over the actual 7.1% share of the population, according to google. In contrast, 13% of the population are disabled (again, per google), but there are no such characters in Knife. There are no Jewish characters either. Apparently, MacIntyre and screenwriter Michael Kennedy believe some people deserve to be over-represented and other should be made invisible. Merry Christmas, if Knife thinks you should be seen in public.

This point is worth making because Knife is so preoccupied with identity and representational issues. As a result, it starts out slow as molasses and craters with a downbeat, almost surreal climax. In between, there is an underdeveloped germ of a clever movie, somewhat akin to Happy Death Day or Totally Killer, which had issues of its own.

Violent Night, It’s Definitely a Christmas Movie

There is a long-standing debate whether or not Die Hard is a Christmas movie. This one definitely is—and it consciously riffs on the Bruce Willis franchise. You could say it is Die Hard at family Christmas gathering, with Santa Claus playing the John McClane role. Regardless, it will not be a silent or holy night during Tommy Wirkola’s Violent Night, which opens nationwide today in theaters.

Santa is pretty burned out, because most people are naughty and even the nice kids only want video games or cash. Frankly, he probably would not even be stopping at Gertrude Lighthouse’s stately manor if her extremely nice granddaughter Trudy were not staying the night. Except for her father Jason, maybe, the rest of the Lightstones are a nasty venal lot. Of course, her mother Linda does not count, at least according to her grandmother. However, the Lightstones will not be the naughtiest ones in the house when “Scrooge’s” band of armed robbers take them hostage.

As luck would have it, they start shooting while Santa is still enjoying Trudy’s cookies and Gertrude’s brandy. Claus has gotten a little cynical, but he can’t help worrying about Trudy. He also still remembers his mortal life as Norse warrior, before he assumed the jolly mantel, presumably through some means not unlike that of The Santa Clause.

There is no question this is a Christmas movie, because it has Santa. It also slyly riffs on Christmas favorites, like Home Alone and Die Hard 1 & 2 in knowing and spectacularly violent ways. For instance, somebody gets it with an icicle. However, Wirkola and co-screenwriters Pat Casey and Josh Miller probably outdo the body counts of the individual Die Hards, if not the entire series. Honestly, it is way more satisfying to watch Santa wield a war-hammer than anything the emasculated Thor did in the last few MCU releases.

Admittedly, the middle is a little draggy, but the fight scenes in the first and third acts are as beautifully choreographed as a top-notch performance of The Nutcracker. David Barbour (who co-starred in Sleepless, the American remake of the French Die Hard-in-a-nightclub, Sleepless Night) is wonderfully grizzled and world-weary as Santa. Weirdly, this is one of the least caricatured portrayals of Kris Kringle.

Silent Night: Last Christmas, Ever

It is sort of like The Big Chill, but the suicide[s] haven’t happened yet. Unfortunately, the world is ending, so a group of old college friends decided to spend their last Christmas together before the inevitable. The government says we’re doomed, so it must be true, right? One of the kids is not so sure and he is willing to risk it in director-screenwriter Camille Griffin’s Silent Night, which releases in theaters and streams on AMC+ tomorrow.

Frankly, even if you had decades of holidays ahead of you, it is hard to imagine wanting to spend even one with some of these obnoxious people. The worst are Sandra, who clearly thinks she is Kim Cattrall’s Sex and the City character, her dopey husband Tony, and their massively spoiled daughter Kitty. The caustic Bella and her passive girlfriend Alex are not much fun either. Frankly, James and Sophie are far and away the most likable, but everyone is against her, because the younger woman is not part of their clique. Ordinarily, Nell and Simon are probably decent enough, in a British upper-crust kind of way, but they are on edge and trying way too hard. Their disgustingly precocious and sensitive son Art is not making things any easier.

For some strange reason Art is not ready to just give up and die. As in many end-of-the-world movies, Silent Night is cagey about the exact “science” of the apocalypse. Apparently, it involves a green cloud sweeping the planet. Regardless, it is surely our fault somehow. Fortunately, the British government has supplied all legal residents with a handy no-more-mornings-after pill. Yet, Sophie is reluctant to take it, because she is pregnant.

There is something in Silent Night to rub everyone the wrong way. Not bothered by the vacuous characters or a gratuitous swipe at the UK Conservatives? Well, maybe you will be put off by its invitation to doubt the pronouncements of governments and so-called “science” authorities (like, I don’t know, Fauci maybe?). As a result, you really have to respect Griffin for staking out some a-plague-on-both-your-houses territory. However, the people are still horrifyingly cringy.

Holiday Gift Guide: Christmas Presence

They say “Satan Never Sleeps.” His minions don’t work bankers’ hours either. That means the evil entity haunting a remote country house will be just as ornery on Christmas Eve. A group of boozy, sexually frustrated friends is in for a harsh holiday in James Edward Cook’s Christmas Presence (a.k.a. Why Hide?), now available on DVD for your last-minute shopping needs.

McKenzie has gathered her friends together for Christmas in an old country manor as if they were characters in an Agatha Christie novel. They are a gossipy, neurotic bunch, especially Hugo the flamboyant fashion designer and Samantha, who aspires to be the lesbian E.L. James, even though she admits she doesn’t know who that is. Schlubby Marcus and his wife Anita, the world’s worst psychic, are barely on speaking terms, while Samantha’s matronly partner Jo is annoyingly chipper. It is already fun times, even before the weird black swirling cloud of evilness starts preying on them one by one.

Presence is sort of like the horror movie version of Branagh’s Peter’s Friends. In fact, Cook spends so much time on character development, the genre stuff largely takes a back seat during the opening and middle sections. However, he rather rectifies matters during the third act. In fact, the film crescendos with a nasty bit of business that comes way out of left field. It is bound to be a divisive turn of events, but you have to give Cook credit for boldness.

Regardless, Presence features some wonderfully caustic dialogue and a number of immensely colorful performances. This is one of the relatively rare horror comedies that is legitimately funny. In fact, it earns considerably more laughs than scares, but that’s okay, since it’s all intentional.

Black Christmas: Remade by Blumhouse

Bob Clark’s 1974 horror movie was the original “the calls are coming from inside the house” shocker, predating When a Stranger Calls by about five years. It was also the first really notable Christmas horror movie, but certainly not the best. Nevertheless, it has already been remade once. Blumhouse takes another stab at the yuletide slasher with Sophia Takal’s Black Christmas, which opens today nationwide.

Apparently, at Hawthorne College, classes stay in session until sometime around December 23^rd. Christmas trees and lights are everywhere, but students are just starting to leave for the semester break. Riley Stone will not be one of them. She always remains on campus with a small group of self-proclaimed “orphans.” Tragically, one of her coed classmates won’t be going home either, because a cloaked figure hacked her to death during an early kill-scene, after sending her a series of hostile texts. She won’t be the last.

We soon learn Stone and three of her closest sorority sisters have also received similar texts. As word spreads of other female colleagues who are missing and unaccounted for, Stone starts to suspect something horrific is afoot. The elitist fraternity she and her sisters just called out for date rape crimes are the logical suspects, along with their faculty advisor, Prof. Gelson (you’d think the smug defender of Western patriarchal meritocracy would have a doctorate, but evidently not). It turns out, Stone has filed a complaint against him, just to make it crystal clear Gelson is a bad guy.

This take on Black Christmas has to be the most clumsily didactic Christmas movie ever. Takal and co-screenwriter April Wolfe are not satisfied with making their points. They are compelled to beat them into the ground and salt the earth around them. Seriously, this film makes Knives and Skin look like a peace offering to the “patriarchy,” whatever that might be. Yet, most of their attempts to score sexual-political points will fail to land for a very fundamental reason. The stilted dialogue they put into the nasty frat brothers’ mouths sounds like things they want people to believe un-woke dudes would say, but the complete absence of authenticity or credibility is crushingly awkward. Kicking over a transparent straw horse like the evil Delta house will not impress anyone and it will only entertain especially militant social justice warriors.

It is a shame because Takal stages some reasonably intense scenes of slasher horror. Frankly, viewers will almost start roll with it when watching the psychotic Emperor Palpatine cos-player stalking the sisters throughout their weirdly elegant-looking sorority house. In a radical departure from previous Black Christmases, Takal & Wolfe add a wacky supernatural element. It is debatable whether this is a mistake or not, but it definitely kicks the film into the sphere of unintentional over-the-top comedy, ending the affair on quite a distinctive note.

Into the Dark: Pooka!

This must be the worst must-have toy since the Chuckie Good Guy doll. It looks a little like the Philly Phanatic mascot crossed with Gizmo the Gremlin, but its supposed charm is its unpredictability. Kids are crazy for it, but it is driving the actor wearing its furry costume even crazier in Nacho Vigalondo’s Pooka! (trailer here), the Christmas installment of Hulu’s Blumhouse-produced monthly holiday horror anthology, which premieres this Friday.

Wilson thought he was auditioning for a proper acting gig, but when he was offered the “role” of Pooka, the money was too good to turn down. He will be the only one wearing the suit, so he will own the role. However, it will be more like he will be owned by Pooka.

Of course, the whole point is to sell Pooka dolls, which jump off shelves like a combination of Cabbage Patch Kids and Teddy Ruxpins. Pooka’s gimmick is recording and playing back snippets of conversation it overhears, but there is no guarantee it will pick something polite. In fact, it has a reputation for being naughty more often than nice. Considering it is in such high demand, scoring one for the son of Melanie Burns, the single mom Wilson is trying to romance is quite a coup. Unfortunately, just as he makes progress on the relationship front, the character of Pooka starts sending him violent dreams and visions that threaten his hold on reality.

Arguably, Pooka is more of an extended Twilight Zone episode than a scare-your-pants-off horror movie, but that is not a bad thing. You can also consider it a loose riff on A Christmas Carol—really, really loose. Thanks to screenwriter Gerald Olson and a snappy cast, the characterization is unusually strong by genre standards. We feel for poor Wilson and rather like several of the people in his orbit, particularly Red, the retired actress living in the next-door apartment.

Admittedly, Pooka cannot compete with Vigalondo’s inspired Colossal, but it will not diminish his reputation as one of the best genre directors working in film today. He clearly has an affinity for Pooka’s inherently eccentric nature, but this could well be his most subtly executed film to-date.

Nyasha Hatendi should put himself on a lot of fans’ radar for his terrific work anchoring the film as the increasingly distressed Wilson. He covers a wide emotional gambit, while remaining faithful to the character’s tightly wound reserve. Hatendi also develops a credible rapport with Latarsha Rose’s Burns. Yet, Dale Dickey and Jon Daley really help distinguish ITD: Pooka! with the color and energy they bring, as Red and Wilson’s Pooka-selling boss, respectively.

Whether you call it horror, dark fantasy, or psychological thriller, Pooka! is up there with Anna and the Apocalypse as one of the best Christmas genre films this season. (FYI, there’s also something called Elves out there we just can’t force ourselves to watch.) It is very well made and rather haunting in its way. Very highly recommended, Into the Dark: Pooka! starts streaming this Friday (12/7) on Hulu.

Ho, Ho, Ho: Slay Belles

Alas, Santa Land was another victim of the War on Christmas. Sure, they say a handful of kids died on the theme park’s rides, but that was probably no great loss. The truth is most people just stopped caring about Santa, but not “The Adventure Girls.” That hardy band of YouTube urban explorers has come to Santa Land, but they find it is not as abandoned as they expected in Spooky Dan Walker’s Slay Belles (trailer here), which releases today on VOD.

According to the local forest ranger, some kind of wild animal has been attacking children and families, but that will not deter the intrepid Adventure Girls. Usually, it is just Dahlia and Sadie, but their friend Alexi joins them on this expedition. At first, the tacky remnants of Santa Land look perfect for them, until the feral monster attacks. Fortunately, the real Santa saves them just in the nick of time. Of course, crusty Kris is familiar with the beast out there. It is his old nemesis, Krampus.

Did we mention the Adventure Girls do their exploring in tight-fitting cos-play outfits, or does that go without saying? Regardless, you have to give Hannah Wagner, Kristina Klebe, and Susan Slaughter credit for being good sports on a number of counts, starting with wardrobe. They also keep the energy level cranked way up, dashing about, causing all kinds of mayhem. This might be a cornball horndog movie, but they rattle off their dialogue with a rat-a-tat briskness that would please Howard Hawks.

Of course, Barry Bostwick is perfectly cast as the spaced-out hermit Santa. Every time he exclaims “Krampus!,” it brings to mind the “Best Brains” logo stinger that used to end each episode of MST3K. That is a compliment, believe it, or not. Regardless, he is quite droll playing off the ladies. As an added bonus, Richard Moll from Night Court and Sean Cunningham’s House pops up as one of the confused local cops.

Obviously, Slay Belles is a larky meathead movie, but the three protags are so upbeat and earnest, it is impossible to dislike it. It only runs a mere 77-minutes, but Spooky Dan Walker’s warp-speed pacing makes it feel even quicker. Compared to other Christmas horror films, it really is an endearingly silly treat that should go down nice and smooth with a glass of eggnog. Highly recommended for fans of goofy horror comedies, Slay Belles releases today (12/4) on-demand.

Ho, Ho, Ho: Christmas Blood

You don’t get squat for being on Santa’s “nice” list in Norway, but don’t complain. Those on the “naughty” list get hacked to bits by an axe murderer. A maniac known for killing people publicly accused of committing crimes has escaped from an unforgivably negligent insane asylum, just in time to get back to his old Christmas Eve tricks in Reinert Kiil’s Christmas Blood (trailer here), which releases today on DVD and VOD.

Don’t blame Thomas Rasch. He emptied a clip into the costumed killer, at point-bank range, but the psycho-slasher didn’t die. They never do. The traumatized cop resigned from the force, but he will return to help straight-laced Terje Hansen track down his bogeyman nemesis.

It turns out the killer is appropriately headed towards the home of Julia’s late mother in the far north, a quiet, frosty land that is close enough to the North Pole for just about anyone. Julia and her mother have had a hard time of life. Soon after her cancer diagnosis, the older woman accidentally killed another motorist in an auto accident. After years of bearing the guilt, she finally committed suicide, but Santa didn’t hear about it in the nuthouse. Several of Julia’s trampier college friends have come to be with her during the holiday, providing the killer with a classic cast of slasher victims.

Comparisons with the classic Halloween will be inevitable for Christmas Blood—and in some ways they are deserved. Believe it or not, the film really does have a similar look and atmosphere. Clearly, cinematographer Benjamin Mosli did his best studying and channeling Dean Cundey’s work on John Carpenter’s iconic horror films. Stylistically, they are eerily similar, but Kiil just follows in the tradition, rather than building on it. In fact, it all ends on a disappointingly small-scale, underwhelming note.

Frankly, the women waiting around for Kris Kringle to kill them are problematically cliched and mostly boring. However, Sondre Krogtoft Larsen and Stig Henrik Hoff are better than average as the mismatched coppers. The frosty Finnmark locales and the severe Scandinavian ambiance also nicely contribute to feelings of isolation and dread.

Kiil over-achieves when it comes to setting the scene and establishing the vibe, but he cannot close the deal. Still, he hits enough nostalgic buttons to produce a Pavlovian response in many fans. Okay for Hallmark viewers in the mood for a little Christmas cheer (but not nearly as heartwarming as Anna and the Apocalypse), Christmas Blood releases today (12/4) on DVD and VOD, from Artsploitation.

Anna and the Apocalypse: Your New Christmas Tradition

We have the cure for Hallmark Christmas TV movies right here for you. It started life as a short film zombie spoof of the High School Musical franchise and its ilk, but adding Yuletide jolliness just makes it even richer. The songs are actually pretty good and the survival rate is on par with The Walking Dead (if not lower) in John McPhail’s instant classic Anna and the Apocalypse (trailer here), which opens today in New York.

Anna Shepherd is a smart Scots teen who wants to travel for a year after high school, rather than go straight into uni. That plan does not sit well with her protective widower father or John, her torch-carrying best pal helplessly mired in the friend-zone. Then on the night of her school’s Christmas talent show, the zombie apocalypse strikes. Anna and John are stuck at the bowling alley where they work, along with Steph, the school paper’s aspiring muckraker, and wannabe filmmaker Chris.

Meanwhile, Chris’s girlfriend Lisa, his grandma with a heart condition, and Anna’s school custodian dad are stuck at the school, where the authoritarian headmaster has instituted martial law. To save their loved ones, Anna and Chris will need some help from Nick, the cocky one-time hook-up she now regrets. Periodically, they will also break out into song.

Those musical numbers are really something too. Roddy Hart & Tommy Reilly’s tunes dramatically over-achieve. “Break Away” and “Hollywood Ending” are rousing openers, but they still drip with teen angst. “Turning My Life Around” would be a catchy anthem of self-empowerment, but it is performed as an extended site-gag by the ear-bud-wearing Anna and John, who are oblivious of the zombie attacks erupting around them, until the final bars. However, Lisa, Chris’s prima donna girlfriend gets the hands-down funniest number with the spectacularly suggestive “It’s that Time of Year.” Honestly, Marli Siu deserves serious awards consideration just for being able to perform it straight.

This is a very funny film, but its also weirdly poignant at times. Despite all the gore and goofiness, the young ensemble is so earnest, viewers cannot stop themselves from investing in them emotionally. Ella Hunt deserves to be the breakout star of the year for the charm and forcefulness of her star turn as Shepherd. Again, Siu is simply unforgettable as Lisa. Malcolm Cumming’s John is such an achingly nice sad sack, we just want to give him a chuck on the shoulder and a pep talk about more-fish-in-the-sea. Mark Benton keeps it real and grounded as her protective pa, while Ben Wiggins adds electric energy and bad boy charisma as Nick.

Technically, Apocalypse is a feature work-up of the late Ryan McHenry’s short film, Zombie Musical, but the jokes are more outrageous and the songs are more tuneful in McPhail’s film. It is a lot more than just another zombie spoof or just another goofy genre musical. Honestly, your new holiday tradition is here—and it is fun for the whole family. Very highly recommended, Anna and the Apocalypse opens today (11/30) in New York at the AMC Loews Lincolns Square uptown and the Regal Union Square downtown.

PDXFF ’17: Secret Santa

Why are there so many Christmas horror movies? Because it is a family holiday. That is scary enough for many folks, but in the case of the Popes, it is absolutely terrifying—even before they are dosed with a psychosis-inducing drug. It will be coal for everyone in Adam Marcus’s Secret Santa (trailer here), which screens during the 2017 Portland Film Festival.

April is in charge of her family’s gift exchange this year—and boy is it going to be miserable. Her ugly duckling sister Penny will continue blaming her for everything wrong in her life. Their half-brother Jackson will show up with his latest stripper girlfriend, Jacqueline. Their divorced father Leonard has been banished from the house, but he will show up anyway just to make a point. Meanwhile, their high-ball guzzling mother Shari will make everyone feel terrible about themselves, especially Penny and the youngest brother Kyle, the one with a stammer. At least April has brought her boyfriend Ty, so she has back-up. One of the caterers also happens to be Kyle’s lover, but he is totally not ready to come out of the closet yet.

As if the night were not already fun enough, several family members suddenly turn into raging maniacs. At first, they feel suspiciously hot and then they lash out. The corpses will pile up, starting with creepy Uncle Carter, but Mother Pope steadfastly refuses to air any of their dirty laundry in public.

Wow, if anything, Secret Santa is less brutal when they shut-up and start stabbing each other. Think of it as The Ref, but with more bloodletting, if we can still safely reference a movie starring you-know-who. Regardless, this is one of the most wickedly funny horror films of the season. Who knew Marcus, the writer-director of Jason Goes to Hell: The Final Friday [which its wasn’t] and Texas Chainsaw 3D had it in him, but here it is.

His co-screenwriter Debra Sullivan is also spectacularly passive-aggressive as Ma Pope. As Pa Pope, John Gilbert has a slightly older and thinner Ron Perlman thing going on, which definitely works. Plus, you have to give Michelle Renee Allaire tremendous credit for being a good sport and showing off some decent action chops in her portrayal of Jacqueline. Likewise, as Jackson, actor-stunt artist Nathan Hedrick definitely came to play.

With Award-winning make-up artist Robert Kurtzman on-board as an executive producer and also providing his practical artistry, you can be sure there will be blood. This is turning out to be a banner year for holiday horror, with both Secret Santa and Better Watch Out destined to become annual Christmas traditions, along with Santa Stinks. In fact, they complement each other nicely, because they are both really twisted, but in very different ways. Highly recommended for horror and midnight movie fans, Secret Santa screens today (11/5), at this year’s PDXFF.

Better Watch Out: The Christmas Horror Movie We’ve Been Waiting for

The babysitter is always the prime candidate to be the final girl. That is even true during the Christmas season, if not more so. After all, whenever you see halls decked and chestnuts roasting in a movie, you know some kind of chaos will soon follow. Ashley was hoping to take a timeout from her personal drama by babysitting for a longtime client, but there will be no peace on earth for her in Chris Peckover’s Better Watch Out (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Luke Lerner has always had a crush on Ashley, so he is determined to finally put the moves on her before she moves away for college. He thinks a little champagne will help, but we know what happens when you drink in a horror movie. Of course, Ashley is not about to do anything inappropriate with him. She is already juggling a boyfriend who feels neglected and an ex who won’t take no gracefully.

Strange things start happening when the pizza they didn’t order shows up. Then someone cuts out the wifi and phone lines. They quickly find themselves trapped in a mash-up of Home Alone and When a Stranger Calls. However, Peckover has a devious game-changing twist up his sleeve. It is so gleefully evil, he could probably only get away with it in a subversive horror comedy, but fortunately that is exactly what Better Watch Out happens to be.

Olivia DeJonge looks like a typically bland CW TV star, but she plays Ashley the sitter with appealing energy and grit. We really pull for her on an emotional level, just as we dig hating her tormentor. Levi Miller and Ed Oxenbould show comedic range that you just have to see to understand as young Lerner and his nebbish best pal Garrett. As a bonus, Virginia Madsen and Patrick Warburton have a blast parachuting in and out as Lerner’s bickering parents, Deandra and Robert.

It is tricky to get into much detail with Better Watch Out, because so much happens beneath the fold. However, it is safe to say devoted horror consumers will appreciate its attitude and sly, knowing humor. Even though it goes for laughs just as much or more than scares, it really is the Christmas-themed horror movie we have been waiting for. No question about it, this movie kicks Red Christmas’s butt. Highly recommended for horror fans and anyone who never wants to see Home Alone again, Better Watch Out opens this Friday (10/6) in New York, at the AMC Loews 34^th, as in Miracle on.

Santa Stinks en Français

What’s a merry Christmas without a little collateral damage? Fortunately, the French are there to remind us how aggressively crummy the holidays are. If you spent December 25th alone, Jean-Marie Poiré’s Le père Noël est une ordure will make you grateful. Demurely translated as Santa Stinks (trailer here), this French yuletide favorite is now playing a special holiday engagement at MoMA.

Pierre and Thérèse are WASPY volunteers at a suicide hotline working Christmas Eve for their well-to-do busy-body supervisor, Madame Musquin, who will spend most of the night stuck in the elevator. She will be the lucky one. A flamboyant transvestite caller, their mega-pregnant client Josette, and her nebbish but psychotic husband Félix will reduce their evening to anarchy, periodically interrupted by visits from their immigrant neighbor Preskovic, bearing ever more unlikely dishes of his scatological native cuisine.

If the basic premise of Ordure sounds familiar that is because Nora Ehpron neutered it with her American remake Mixed Nuts. In truth, a film like this could never be made here today. The professionally aggrieved, most definitely including GLAAD and CAIR, would have a seizure. Truly, there is something to offend everyone: gay jokes, foreigner jokes, sex jokes, animal husbandry, and language that would make rappers blush, even in subtitles. Basically, it is everything you could every ask Santa for wrapped up under the tree and since it is screening at MoMA, you can even get your film snob on while you watch.

Based on a stage play mounted by the Le Splendid company Ordure is wickedly funny, but not exactly an acting workshop. Frankly, Splendid trouper Thierry Lhermitte mugs something awful as Pierre, but you can’t say he isn’t working for his laughs. Yet, he is downright subtle compared to Christian Clavier’s cross-dressing Katia. Perhaps Anémone gives the driest, most understated turn as Thérèse, but it is only by comparison to her colleagues’ unrestrained lunacy.

Ordure is so shamelessly unrepentant, it comes as a breath of fresh air. Surly and dirty-minded, it has the attitude of a mid 1970’s Mel Brooks movie with an inflamed skin rash. As a longstanding Christmas tradition, it gives one a new appreciation for the French. It also makes you want to keep them at a distance. Highly recommended, but absolutely not for children or the easily offended, it screens through Monday (1/2) at the Museum of Modern Art. Happy Holidays.

Finnish Cheer: Rare Exports

All Pagan Claus ever gave kids were the willies. The candy and toys came after those mean old Christians co-opted him. However, the old school Santa returns to a small Finnish village with an army of wrinkly old elves in Jalmari Helandar’s Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale (trailer here), which opens today in New York.

Young Pietari is not looking forward to Christmas. Strange things have started happening since a wealthy American eccentric began excavating the nearby mountain. The reindeer herd has been decimated, leaving his hunter father distinctly out of sorts. The rest of the town’s children have also mysteriously disappeared, but oddly, Pietari seems to be the only one concerned about it. Increasingly obsessed with creepy pre-Christian Santa Claus legends, he is convinced the less than jolly old elf is behind everything.

Rare works best when exploring the strange Pagan precursors to Santa Claus. Helandar’s ironic use of the advent calendar is similarly effective. Unfortunately, none of the characters are sharply drawn and the film indulges in a lazy anti-Americanism that needlessly distracts from the story.

Fundamentally, Rare is a half-pregnant film. With its sorta-kinda heartwarming ending, it is not nearly subversive or edgy enough for midnight movie patrons, while it is far too macabre for audiences looking for remotely conventional holiday cheer. As a result, it is hard to ignore the film’s glaring logical holes.

There are some witty bits to be found in Rare, but their promise is never long sustained. Cinematographer Mika Orasmaa’s gauzy lensing also nicely captures a sense of child-like wonder and dread. Yet despite an amusing premise, Rare never fully gels. At least Helandar keeps it moving along, wrapping it up in a manageable eighty minutes. It opens today (12/3) in New York at the IFC Center.

A French Christmas Tale

It’s time to get your Bah Humbug on, en Français. It might be the Christmas season, but there is little comfort and joy when the Vuillards get together. Instead it is family dysfunction of the highest order that comes to the fore in Arnaud Desplechin’s A Christmas Tale (trailer here), opening today in New York.

The Vuillards have issues. Ever since the oldest child Joseph died of cancer at age seven, the family dynamics have been out of kilter. Now the children are physically grown, but remain emotionally stunted. Holidays are an ordeal for everyone, but they have been spared the presence of the middle son Henri. After nearly bringing financial ruin on the Vuillards, his younger sister Elizabeth made good on his debts, but at the price of banishment from the family. Henri does not understand how he inspired such resentment, aside from nearly bankrupting the family and just being a complete louse in general.

However, Henri might hold a trump card. His mother Junon has been stricken by the same disease which killed his brother, and so far no family members have proved compatible bone marrow donors. With Faunia, his amused Jewish girlfriend in tow, Henri joins the family for a miserable Vuillard family Christmas and some blood tests at the local hospital.

Tale’s trailer is somewhat misleading. While there is dark comedy, most of the lines in the preview which sound like jokes are said in deadly earnest. This is a largely loveless family of hopelessly incompatible people. Junon the matriarch was too vain and disinterested to love her children. The cold-blooded Elizabeth is incapable of forgetting her grievances. Her son Paul seems to have inherited the recessive underachieving genes which surfaced his black sheep uncle. For his part, Henri takes perverse pleasure in mismanaging his life, while Faunia finds the spectacle of it all amusing. Only their sensitive patriarch Abel shows any kind of capacity for familial love. We know he is a man of substance and depth from the music he studies and enjoys, including jazz compositions by Charles Mingus and Cecil Taylor.

Desplechin’s domestic train wreck is all too believable, particularly because it resists explaining every little behavioral quirk. People hold grudges and blow each other off for reasons that remain obscure. That’s life. Catherine Deneuve is perfectly cast as Junon, the Mother of the Year. As Henri, Mathieu Almaric deftly portrays a multi-faceted character who is simultaneously charming, boorish, self-destructive, and passive aggressive. Not exactly comic relief, as Faunia, Emmanuelle Devos effectively provides an ironic vantage point on Vuillard family reunion.

Tale is a smart drama, but it is about as much a Christmas film as Kubrick’s Eyes Wide Shut. The holiday is an obligation for the Vuillards, not a celebration. While Tale might sound depressing, Desplechin strings together one fascinating scene after another, making it’s nearly two and a half hour running seem much quicker. It opens today in the City, at the IFC Film Center and the Lincoln Plaza.