RECENT WATCHES: Terrifier 3 (2024)

After spending far too much time pondering on it, I think I understand the central thesis of the "Terrifier" films. If you grew up in the eighties and early nineties, you probably remember the moral panic around slasher movies. That they were pornographic displays of sadism, nothing but gore, vile and evil. You'd stand in the horror section of the video store, look at the box art, and imagine what grotesque images could possibly be contained on those tapes. This was all bullshit, of course, exaggeration by cultural critics who hadn't seen the films in question. No eighties slasher was truly that bad. With "Terrifer," Damien Leone set out to design a slasher franchise that is actually as disgusting and amoral as those mythical movies long described but never unearthed. Whether the resulting films have been good or not is another question altogether. I was middling on the first, begrudgingly admired some elements of the second. They are popular though, astonishingly so. Movies made entirely for the hardcore gore hound audience have instead become mainstream. "Terrifier 3" opened at number one at the box office this past October and quickly became the highest grossing unrated film of all time. This was simply unprecedented for a low budget horror flick that went into wide release without passing by the MPAA's delicate eyes. Whether you like them or not, you can't be a horror fan and ignore "Terrifier" anymore. This is Art the Clown's moment and he is our modern Jason Voorhees. 

Despite being released two weeks before Halloween, "Terrifier 3" is set at Christmas. After his previous massacre, Art the Clown's body retrieves the new head born from Victoria Hayes, his mutilated victim from the original film. She now follows him, possessed by a demonic spirit. Five years pass. Sienna Shaw, who defeated Art last time, leaves treatment, scarred mentally and physically. She lives with her Aunt Jess and Uncle Greg, as well as her beloved niece, Gabbie. It's the holidays but Sienna is still having visions of Art the Clown. She attempts to reconnect with her little brother, now in college, who simply wants to move on with his life. Art and Victoria awaken and resume their brutal killing spree, the murderous mime donning a Santa suit. It's not long before they are tracking Sienna down at her new home. She is not simply a random victim. She shares a destiny with Art the Clown and his evil envoy. 

As in the first two entries, "Terrifier 3" is as much show reel for its extravagant gore effects as it is anything else. The movie is filled, top to bottom, with graphic displays of dismemberment and torture. As also in the previous films, the violence is not exactly realistic, always looking like the elaborate prosthetics they are. Also true is that the murder scenes show a vicious sadism, focusing on the agony and terror Art's victims feel as their bodies are torn apart in horrific new ways. Liquid nitrogen assisted attacks, an extensive application of a chainsaw to an exposed body, and a complete disregard for the lives of young children are among the most vicious moments here. As always, Art the Clown treats the mayhem he reaps as a big joke while obviously delighting at the misery he causes, an approach the film rarely retreats from sharing. Similar to my reaction to the first two, it should be easy to dismiss "Terrifer 3" as nothing but edge lord nonsense designed to push buttons and bloodily waltz past standards of decency. However, Leone and his team do show a degree of skill. Obviously, the gore effects are elaborate and well done, sinew and bone torn asunder often with the eyes of the ruined victims still moving or their bodies still twitching. Beyond that, "Terrifier 3" builds notable feelings out of the anticipation of this sickening violence. Once Art the Clown shows up at a mall or a college dorm or comes down the chimney of an innocent family's home, you know it's going to be bad. He's going to do something terrible and waiting for the hammer – and axe and chainsaw and box cutter and glass tube full of rats – to come down fills you with a sickly form of tension. It's not suspense, because that is based on the uncertainty of the outcome. It's dread, as you know what's coming is going to be awful but it is, unavoidably, for sure, coming. 

Again, these are films clearly made to make the most jaded horror fan gasp. As some sort of rejoinder to the vaginal trauma of the first film – and the following, totally understandable accusations of misogyny – the male genitalia is giving a similar extended punishment. This follows a woman's breasts being sawed through, somewhat avoiding whatever point of fair game Leone is making. Art doesn't simply tear down symbols of wholesome Americana, like Santa Claus or holiday gatherings or the crucifix, he eviscerates them extensively. And what the fuck does any of it mean? What stance is "Terrifer 3" taking? It's not subversive, not really, as there's no readable motivation behind Art the Clown's murderous rampage. It is cruelty for cruelty's sake, which is acknowledged in universe by now. The only real stand the movie makes is against the grotesquely insensitive true crime industry, as one of Art's victims is a podcast co-host with no sense of boundaries or good taste. 

At the same time, it's difficult to dismiss the movie as nothing but a pornographic deluge of nauseating violence. Because – and this is the part that fucks with me the most – these movies actually do care about their characters. While not quite matching "Terrifier 2's" 138 minute runtime, the sequel still dedicates extensive time to Sienna's lingering trauma. Lauren LaVera gives a thoughtful, serious performance. Her relationship with Gabbie is sweet, multiple scenes devoted to showing their bond. Her parents, the college roommate, the random building excavators, and the drunken Santa Claus are all people, fleshed out to various degrees. In its predictably gruesome final act, Art's misshapen and far chattier sidekick holds Sienna down. She tells her that there's no hope, no love, no God, that nothing matters. However, Sienna keeps resisting. Which means there's a sense of good and evil to everything that happens here. As much as "Terrifier 3" revels in unending and meaningless cruelty and sadism, it's not a nihilistic film. If anything, it's about holding out hope in the intrinsic goodness of certain principles – namely, a humanistic belief in the power of love and community – against an utterly heartless and black-souled world designed to destroy and corrupt whatever sincerity you have left. Does that mean Art the Clown isn't merely an immortal sadist in a Halloween costume, the modern fascination with evil clowns taken to its most extreme level, but a symbol for depression, hopelessness, and everything else about the world that makes us want to give up? After his act of mass violence at a shopping mall – which resembles any number of acts of real world terrorism – Uncle Greg watches a news story about it on the TV and gasps. Life is full of horrors but the love of those we care about keeps us moving forward. 

Once again, these ideas coexist alongside what is basically 125 minutes of what a 14 year old boy you shouldn't leave alone with pets would imagine if you asked him to write down the sickest shit he could think of. What pisses me off about these movies is that Art the Clown is, by any definition, a despicable villain. He exists to do nothing but inflict horrendous violence on innocent people, entirely for his own sick amusement. That doesn't mean he's comparable to Jigsaw or Mick Taylor or Rob Zombie's Firefly brood or the faceless thrill seekers of the "Hostel" movies. The so-called "torture porn" of the 2000s pretended to have a sense of realism, of grittiness, with villains who were, if not grave symbols of their own missions, meant to realistically emulate real life killers. Art the Clown is a joke. He's an attempt to create a modern day Freddy Krueger or Chucky, a sarcastic smart-ass that we can root for in a sick way or at least find somewhat likable. That truly bugged me about "Terrifiers" 1 and 2 but... God forbid, I think the guy is winning me over. That's entirely because David Howard Thornton is so talented at expressing the silent Art's – dare I say – almost child-like glee at what he does. When faced with a massive puddle of blood after dismembering two victims, he does what comes naturally. After massacring a family on Christmas Eve, he eats the milk and cookies left out for Santa and washes the plate. He smirks with wicked satisfaction after gruesomely transforming a human being into a shattered Christmas decoration. While playing Santa or eavesdropping on soon-to-be victims' conversation, he vamps and mimes gloriously. The dude commits to the fucking bit. It is, I am ashamed to admit... Entertaining. What the fuck does that say about me? And everybody else that has turned this asshole into a Halloween decoration, an internet meme, an image on a T-shirt, and an action figure? And is it in any way different from doing the same to Freddy or Jason? 

I suppose what leaves me so conflicted about "Terrifier 3" is that it is, simultaneously, very dumb and trashy while obviously understanding the rules for creating compelling characters and effective suspense. Damien Leone's budgets have gotten bigger but I think his visual technique has backslid. Much of "Terrifier 3" is shot in medium close-ups with the characters talking exactly in the center of the frame. The more artistic moments – a close-up on a pill bottle, a homage to a famous shot from "Friday the 13th Part 3" – are short lived, nothing here to match the synthwave day-glo visuals of part two's funhouse finale. The mythology being built up around these characters, which takes precedence in the last third, isn't unlike something from an edgy nineties comic book. Exactly the kind of stuff Sienna's Dad – one of several Monster-Mania worthy guest stars – is shown to draw in a flashback. It's a story of angels and demons needing physical vessels here on Earth, battling for some fuckin' reason, right out of a "Spawn" or "Lady Death" issue. Fanfiction level stuff that I am, despite myself, slowly growing interested in. I've seen comparisons to what Don Coscarelli did with the later "Phantasm" films and it's not that cool or organic. However, a vision involving an infernal blacksmith hammering away at some holy armor while a living Madonna statue keeps it on a leash is worthy of a metal album cover. The film ends by blatantly setting up "Terrifer 4" and I guess I'm on the hook for that. 

Hopefully this review didn't come off as too pissy. Few films in recent memory has pushed me to such levels of "I hate this but I also kind of like this" as these. Is this what Roger Ebert felt when he gave "The Devil's Rejects" a thumbs up? Should I swallow my pride and admit that Art has charmed me? That I'm impressed by Damien Leone's gumption and belief in the horror fandom turning his micro-budget shock show into a proper blockbuster? Would I have made something very much like this as a teenager if someone gave me access to far more resources than I needed? Probably, and I guess that's what annoys me the most. I'm such an insufferable, self-hating nerd sometimes. Anyway, what the fuck is my point? I'm not sure. I think I talked myself into admitting I'm a fan of these movies now but I feel dirty about it. Merry Christmas, sickos. [7/10]

RECENT WATCHES: Something's in the Barn (2023)

Here in America, most of our Christmas traditions have their basis in popular culture. Our vision of the holiday has been shamed more by Clement Clarke Moore, Charles Dickens, and Coca-Cola than spiritual beliefs with deep, cultural roots. While I'm sure this is equally true across the sea, it has been refreshing to discover that Christmas is a little weirder in various enclaves and regions of Europe. Krampus tends to steal the show but a deep dive reveals other odd-ball or macabre creatures associated with the most wholesome of holidays. This has dovetailed with an international revival of interest in folk-horror. While I patiently wait for horror movies about the Mari Lywd or Badalisc, here's a Norwegian take on the idea. “There's Something in the Barn” is a yuletide horror/comedy built around the Nissie (known in Sweden as tomte), little gnome or elf-like creatures with long beards and funny hats. 

Following the mysterious death of a distant uncle, Bill and his family inherit a farm in the snowy Norwegian community of Gudbrandsdalen. Bill does his best to integrate into the new culture but runs into numerous roadblocks. His kids, teenage Nora and tween Lucas, hate the cold and being away from his friends. Though his newly acquired wife Carol practices a positivity-centric form of New Age thought, she too soon cracks under pressure. Lucas, however, makes an unexpected discovery: Living in the dilapidated barn on the property is a Nissie. The boy tries to befriend the elf-like sprite but his family's American Christmas traditions – namely, filling the area with as much light and noise as possible – pisses the entity off. It's not long before the ill-tempered elf calls down his friends to torment the family and take the property back over.

“There's Something in the Barn” is a Norwegian production, so Norwegian that its director's first name is Magnus. Despite that, the main characters are American and the film is mostly in English. You can tell this was a movie made with the goal of finding international audience. That naturally makes “There's Something in the Barn” a movie about culture clash. Bill attempts to embrace his Norwegian heritage, even choking down some lutefisk in one scene. Yet him and his family ultimately find the differences difficult to endure. Something repeatedly commented on is the lack of gun violence in Norway and how Americans are largely perceived there: crime-prone, hyper-violent vulgerians. With that in mind, this becomes a movie about Norwegians goofing on American culture. That the fish-out-of-water antics eventually results in the local little people causing chaos, means the stakes are higher than the usual comedy of this sort.

How amusing you find “There's Something in the Barn's” humor to be probably depends on a few things. Martin Starr – who previously appeared in “Dead Snow 2,” a somewhat similar film –  is actually rather on the dry side here. He plays the neurotic straight man to everything that happens around him. Most of the comedy here is derived from the elves being wacky little assholes. Do you find the sight of lawn gnome looking little monsters drinking, burping, farting, and trying to kill people inherently hilarious? I guess I must because “There's Something in the Barn” made me laugh pretty regularly. I imagine “Gremlins” was a big reference point here and this film captures a similar sort of live-action cartoon appeal. The film definitely veers too hard towards the wacky at times, such as a sled chase sequence. Yet, in its best moments, the film makes its monsters enjoyably ridiculous little bastards. 

Despite how knowingly goofball most of “There's Something in the Barn” is, I did find myself actually caring about the characters before the end. There's this theme running throughout the film that maybe people can put aside their differences and work out an unsteady peace, largely through references to the Oslo Accords. This sets up a typically sarcastic joke in the end but I do think the film's themes are sincere. You also see this in the journey its characters go on. By the end, Bill's kids adapt to their new home and learn to love Norway. I'm especially touched by the way Lucas – played by Townes Bunner, who is ten but acts much younger – tries to befriend the elf before the shit hits the fan. As flippant as the movie is, it's good to know that there's some sincerity when it comes to its ideas.

The other reviews on “There's Something in the Barn” have been mixed, as far as I've seen. I don't think the movie lives up to its awesome premise or title. (Though “Don't Go in the Barn!” would've been an even better title.) If you're looking for a Christmas-themed horror/comedy about evil elves from Scandinavia, this doesn't come close to topping “Rare Exports,” its most obvious counterpart. And if you're looking for a folk-horror tinged homage to “Gremlins” in 2023, you'll do better checking out “Unwelcome.” Yet “There's Something in the Barn” isn't bad either. If the tomte are going to become a regular part of American Christmas iconography – and it seems to be getting a major push lately – then I fully support there being a horror movie version of it as well. [7/10]

RECENT WATCHES: The Sacrifice Game (2023)

In 2018, Jenn Wexler would direct “The Ranger.” Though it's hard for a retro-leaning slasher movie to stand out in our modern indie horror landscape, Wexler's film managed to put her own twist on the premise, largely by bringing a punk rock energy to the proceedings. A woman making a name for herself in horror usually attracts attention. I'm sure the momentum of her career was paused slightly, thanks to COVID. However, Wexler is finally back with her second feature, “The Sacrifice Game.” And, hey, what do you know, it's a Christmas set fright film. This “Game” dropped on Shudder earlier in the month, where horror nerds can judge where this falls in the Christmas mayhem canon. 

In the mid-seventies, a quartet of killers are terrorizing a small town in the weeks leading up into the holidays. They enter homes and butcher people in ritualistic manners. The looming threat terrifies Samantha, a young girl left at Blackvale Academy as Christmas approaches. The only other student stuck at the school is the mysterious loner, Clara. The Christmas Killers show up on the academy's steps, worming their way inside by faking an injury. Soon, they trap both girls and a teacher in their twisted game. The murderers intend on summoning a demon with their bloody ceremony, as Christmas Eve slowly turns into Christmas morning. However, who the victims are and who the monsters are in this scenario is not immediately apparent...

When most Christmas horror movies are slasher films or anthologies, it is refreshing that “The Sacrifice Game” goes in a slightly different direction. For the first half of its runtime, this is unmistakably a twist on the home invasion movie. Granted, it's a mostly empty school being invaded by a band of roving psychos, not a home. Yet the intent is the same. The killers don't just murder their victims and get out. They tie them up, force them to participate in a twisted Christmas dinner, and play a number of psychological games with them. You can see the DNA of “Funny Games” or “The Strangers” here, though “The Sacrifice Game” isn't as sadistic or purposely intense as either of those. Largely because the murderers are a bit too exaggerated to take seriously, especially Mena Massoud as vamping ringleader Jude. It's also because “The Sacrifice Game” foregrounds its Christmas ambiance so much, creating an obvious ironic contrast to the violence on display here. 

When I saw that “The Sacrifice Game” is set in the seventies, my first assumption was that this is simply an aesthetic decision. Filmmakers like Wexler often set out to emulate the look and feel of retro movies, simply because they love them. Yet I do think “The Sacrifice Game” does invoke the decade in ways that aren't so superficial. Jude and his gang bring to mind Krug's family from “The Last House on the Left,” which was naturally inspired by Charles Manson and his inner circle. This reflects the lingering fears of the hippy subculture, of the changing cultural tide, still relevant at the time. One of Jude's group is also a Vietnam veteran, radicalized by his time overseas. While it could never do this the way actual movies from the seventies did, “The Sacrifice Game” does earn points for working the anxieties of its time period into its script. 

Unfortunately, the film takes a big narrative turn about half-way through. The home invasion premise essentially plays out to its logical end point. The story then continues pass that, slowly turning into a supernatural horror movie. This simply isn't as compelling, largely because the film feels the end to explain the mechanics of its demonic ritual a little too much. The movie really does feel like it's filling time until the finale, splitting characters up and leaving certain parties off-screen until the plot needs them. That last act features some really goofy attempts at scares, via monsters leaping into frame or a very mouthy villain. Wexler is attempting to turn audience's expectations and sympathies on their heads, via switching around who are the victims and who are the monsters. Yet it doesn't land, simply because none of these people are that well defined and the situation is too exaggerated to generate much tension.  

It's a bummer that “The Sacrifice Game” peters out so harshly before it's over. I was really enjoying the earlier sections, how it balanced a grim tension with a campier sense of throwback horror fun. “The Ranger” did that too, so clearly it's something Wexler is good at. Yet I think the script was trying too hard to be too clever, by subverting audience's expectations and catch us off-guard. If it wanted to do that, it probably shouldn't have foreshadowed its own twist quite so much. Still, I've got to give credit where it's due. The film looks good, has a solid cast, and works quite well before it starts to go off the rails. Of the roughly twenty Christmas horror movies that get made every year, this still isn't anywhere close to being the worst one in 2023. [6/10]

RECENT WATCHES: It's a Wonderful Knife (2023)

Despite only coming out six years ago, “Happy Death Day” has proven to be a surprisingly influential film. That film's success proved you really could put a horror/comedy spin on a classic movie premise and people would show up for it. Since that slasher movie take on “Groundhog Day” came out, we've gotten the inevitable sequel, a gory take on “Freaky Friday,” and a masked murder version of “Back to the Future.” And now, unsurprisingly, here's the Christmas version. “It's a Wonderful Knife” was assuredly conceived as a title first and a screenplay second. However, when I saw that Tyler MacIntyre, of the delightful “Patchwork” and “Tragedy Girls,” was in the director's chair for this one, I was intrigued. Once “It's a Wonderful Knife” started to win some decent reviews, I knew I had to add it to my December watchlist. 

Winnie lives in the town of Angel Falls. Her dad, David, works for land developer Henry Waters, who hopes to build a fancy shopping center. An elderly home owner – the grandfather of Winnie's best friend – is the sole holdout on he deal. On Christmas Eve, a maniac in a white robe murders the man, Winnie's friend, and several more people. Winnie defeats the killer, who turns out to be Waters. A year later, her family is more successful than ever but Winnie is heartbroken. She blames herself for everything bad that has happened and wishes she was never born. Her wish comes true and Winnie awakens in an alternate version of Angel Falls where no one knows her. Waters is mayor, her family is full of drug addicts, and the town is in squalor... In addition to the murderous Angel still roaming the streets, claiming more victims than ever. Now Winnie must find a way back home and unravel the mystery behind the murders. 

The most famous part of “It's a Wonderful Life,” George Bailey seeing what the world would be like if he had never been born, tends to overshadow the rest of the movie. That truly only occupies the last third of a two-hour runtime, in a story that details a man's entire life up to that point. “It's a Wonderful Knife,” meanwhile, lasts a brisk 87 minutes. Michael Kennedy's script has to set-up a similar amount of narrative legwork as Frank Capra's classic. There's a whole subplot about an evil land developer and various dramas involving Winnie's brothers and friends. “Knife” definitely feels a bit top-heavy, overwhelming viewers a little bit with an excess of characters and storylines right out of the gate. And that's before the slasher shenanigans even begin. I'm all for keeping movies like this as quickly paced as possible but maybe a little more room for all these developments to breathe, before we even get to the alternate universe events, would've been a good idea.

Luckily, like MacIntyre's previous horror/comedies, “It's a Wonderful Knife” does have a fairly likable set of leads. Jane Widdop, who has mostly done television up to this point, plays Winnie. Widdop has an adorable energy throughout that makes it easy to like her. Considering she got into this crazy situation through no fault of her own, the determination Widdop brings to Winnie, her drive to put right what has gone wrong, is especially a winning combination. Widdop also has strong chemistry with Jess McLeod as Bernie, the outcast that she befriends on this journey. I'm not sure why Justin Long – who mugs horribly, adopting a weird voice as Waters – was cast in that part when Joel McHale, whose natural smarminess is leashed as a fairly forgettable role as a dad. 

We associate the slasher genre with elaborate bloodshed. MacIntyre certainly proved he was capable of just that with his past films. Yet “It's a Wonderful Knife,” despite what the title might make you think, is focused more on stylishly displayed violence than gouts of blood arching through the air and bodily dismemberment. An axing scene is set against the flashing lights of a Christmas display. A movie theater proves to be a good location for a chase sequence, while a stabbing against a glass door is another notable moment. The film also manages to find a cool holiday theme for its masked murderer that doesn't go back to the often visited well of a killer Santa Claus. A white shrouded killer, with an indistinct face, brings both an angelic tree-topper and a ghostly spectre of death to mind. They give the killer a cool weapon too, a knife with handles like an angel's wings.

“It's a Wonderful Knife” is also proudly queer, featuring several gay characters in relationships and even going in a surprisingly frank direction in its last third. In other words, “It's a Wonderful Knife” has all the ingredients to become a cult favorite... Which makes it odd that I didn't love the movie more. Honestly, that rushed first act and Long's irritating performance really put me off. Maybe the film will grow on me more with repeated seasonal re-watches. The world isn't wanting for Christmas-themed horror movies but it is wanting for good Christmas-themed horror movies, so I imagine I will revisit “It's a Wonderful Knife.” [7/10]

RECENT WATCHES: Thanksgiving (2023)

In hindsight, an extended homage to the exploitation films of the seventies and eighties was never going to appeal to a wide audience. Even with popular directors like Tarantino and Rodriguez behind it, “Grindhouse” was destined to become a cult classic, not a mainstream success. A fan favorite is exactly what it became, with people demanding full length expansions of the fake trailers presented in the double feature. After Rodriguez turned “Machete” into a real movie, horror fanatics immediately started hoping Eli Roth would turn his outrageous “Thanksgiving” trailer into a full film. And Roth seemed eager to do that. We know this because, every few years, Eli would talk about how he was just about ready to start production on “Thanksgiving.” This was the state of affairs for sixteen years, most people giving up hope that the movie would actually ever arrive. Providing further evidence that we are in the end times, “Thanksgiving” would finally go before cameras last year. Now, chopping into theaters in the days leading up to Turkey Day, slasher fans can finally see if Roth could make a movie that lived up to that fantastically trashy trailer.

In the town of Plymouth, Massachusetts, Thanksgiving is a community-wide event. Teenager Jessica Wright and her friends – including baseball star boyfriend George – head to her father's department store for the Black Friday sale. That's when a huge riot breaks out, resulting in several deaths and numerous injuries, including George's arm being broken. A year later, the town is still recovering, many criticizing the Wright family holding another sale. That's when someone in a John Carver mask and a pilgrim hat begins to brutally murder those who were at the riot. As Thanksgiving approaches, Jessica and her friends start to receive threatening Instagram messages. It becomes evident that “John Carver” plans to invite them all to a Thanksgiving feast where the main course is terror. 

It's been over two and a half decades since Roth made his original “Thanksgiving” preview and five years since he last put out a movie. I guess that was enough time for me to forget what kind of stuff Roth makes. During its opening Black Friday mayhem, “Thanksgiving” features folks screaming profanity at each other in a rowdy and wild crowd. Awful people act in exaggerated manners, before dying in ways that are equal parts brutal and comically unlikely. Oh yeah, now I remember why Eli Roth's movies are so divisive. The transition from this grating opening sequence to the traditional slow first act of the slasher movie – dedicated to introducing our teen heroes and their dynamics – threw me for a bit of a loop. That gear shift takes some getting used to.

Another reason why it took me a while to find my groove with “Thanksgiving" is how different it is from the fake trailer that inspired it. The “Thanksgiving” from “Grindhouse” is beholden to the past, an over-the-top parody of the tropes and visual motifs of the eighties slasher flick. 2023's “Thanksgiving,” meanwhile, attempts to move these same tropes thoroughly into the modern age. The protagonists here carry their cell phones with them everywhere, much the way modern teens actually do. They whip them out to record events happening around them, footage within the footage that Roth revisits repeatedly. “Thanksgiving” announces its modernity early on, by goofing on the obnoxious trademarks of the shallowest, most sensationalist Youtube videos. Instagram and live-streaming are plot points in “Thanksgiving,” which the killer uses to taunt his victims and the authorities. While a number of films have attempted to update the formulas of eighties slasher films for zoomers, “Thanksgiving” actually succeeds by keeping the story structure essentially the same but pairing them with modern technology. 

Oddly enough, Roth is not paying homage to the golden age of slashers here. Perhaps because so many throwback films inspired by eighties exploitation followed in the wake of “Grindhouse” –  or simply because enough time has passed that the definition of what is retro has changed – “Thanksgiving” is clearly more indebted to the post-”Scream” wave of body count flicks from the late nineties and early 2000s. A stalking scene through an eerily empty school recalls Wes Craven's classic, as does the whodunit structure and the killer giving a big speech after being revealed. In some ways, the script plays things fairly straight. Many of the supporting characters are ridiculous, such as the gun-totting drug dealer or Jessica's cartoonish dad, and quite a few exaggerated Masshole accents are heard. Yet the primary heroes, and the scenarios they face, are treated seriously. Roth even attempts to generate some actual suspense, such as several sequences where the heroines are hiding from the lurking killer. 

“Thanksgiving's” attempts to function as something like a serious horror movie, in-between outrageous moments of gore, is probably why the movie didn't work for me as well as I'd hope. There's nothing especially unlikable about the young heroes. Nell Verlaque is serviceable as Jessica. I even liked her chemistry with Gabriel Davenport, as resident black guy Scuba, and Jalen Thomas Brooks, as Bobby. The much publicized casting of TikTok celeb Addison Rae isn't as distracting as you might fear, Rae not embarrassing herself playing a largely indistinct character. Yet I'm not sure I exactly cared about any of the heroes either. “Thanksgiving” seems a little too eager to copy films like “I Know What You Did Last Summer” or “Urban Legend,” in that the young cast is ultimately more boring than endearing. 

Roth is clearly still aware why fans of the “Thanksgiving” trailer are here. Gory murder scenes that messily subvert holiday traditions were promised. The film does deliver, with a bloody literalization of “50% off,” several spurting decapitations, a fatal meat tenderizing, and a human taking the place of a turkey inside a large oven. As satisfyingly gruesome as “Thanksgiving's” mayhem is, it can't help but fall short of Roth's original vision. Whenever the feature directly homages the original “Grindhosue” experience, the results are disappointing. As nasty as “Thanksgiving” gets, it's simply not mean enough. Several odious characters are left alive at the end and you can feel Roth easing off the throttle whenever the movie seems primed to go into full-blown mayhem. There's an unsteady push-and-pull here between an attempt to craft an outrageous experience for life-long gore hounds, the underpinnings of black comedy, and something more palatable to mainstream tastes anticipating a “normal” horror movie.

The result is a film that peaks early and never lives up to its full potential. The Thanksgiving dinner to die for is easily the highlight of the film, the fun factor quickly draining away during the exposition-heavy last act. Then again, I always hate the last act of the “Scream” movies too. “Thanksgiving” is certainly a lot of fun at times. When rolling along through a decently assembled mystery, with some solid gore gags and competently orchestrated suspense, I was compelled. It's ultimately still one of Roth's best features. And I'm not surprised that fans, who have been waiting for a proper Thanksgiving slasher their entire lives, have embraced it. Maybe it was impossible for any feature film to live up to that perfectly gross fake-trailer. I'll continue to fantasize about that “Thanksgiving” while begrudgingly accepting this as  a fairly solid adaptation. [7/10]

Halloween 2023: September 27th

Burn, Witch, Burn (1962)

Re-titling movies for foreign markets might be a bit of a lost art, at least in America. Back in the exploitation movie days of the sixties and seventies, it was really common. One such example: The 1963 Anglo-Amalgamated production, “Night of the Eagle,” was released on U.S. shores as “Burn, Witch, Burn!” Much like the previously reviewed “Night of the Big Heat/Island of the Screaming Damned,” this is a good example of American marketers realizing that we have no use for the subtly and tact that the British value here in this country. As for the movie itself, it is an adaptation of Fritz Lieber's “Conjure Wife” – formally filmed in 1944 as “Weird Woman” – from two renowned authors of the weird in their own right, Richard Matheson and Charles Beaumont. Overlooked for decades, the film has slowly gathered a reputation as a hidden gem in recent years.

Norman Taylor has recently begun teaching psychology at a prestigous British university. Though he and his wife, Tansy, have made friends with several of his colleague, he remains a controversial appointment at the school. Norman believes strongly in logic and reason but his wife, after a frightful encounter in the Caribbean, has developed an interest in witchcraft. When he burns the omens and symbols of protection she's created, bad luck begins to fall upon the household. A student accuses Norman of rape, her boyfriend threatens to kill him, he's involved in a nearly fatal car accident, and Tansy is only acting stranger and stranger. Might there be more to witchcraft and curses than the rational man first assumed? 

One of the most commonly revisited themes in horror is that of rationalism versus superstition. Being the genre it is, too often, stories like this usually have a skeptic being punished for questioning the supernatural. Or, alternatively, they'll go the “Scooby-Doo” route and dismiss all otherworldly events all together. “Burn, Witch, Burn” finds a satisfying balance between these two extremes. Norman's dismissal of the uncanny is what motivates the plot and the film comes down, fairly firmly, on the side of magic being real by the end. Yet “Night of the Eagle” seems to grapple more fully with the question of belief. Are the spells and curses Tansy practices really real? Or does she believe in them so much that they might as well be real? Even during the more explicitly paranormal events, most of what happens in “Burn, Witch, Burn” is explainable through hysteria or pure chance. This raises the question of what “magic” truly is. The powers of the human mind are more than enough to make anything seem real. Our ability to assign meaning and significance to events and the quirks of the mind, through ritual and superstition, is all the magic that needs to exist.

Furthering this theme of psychological shadows making the fantastic real, “Burn, Witch, Burn” features effectively moody and intense visuals. Cinematographer Reginald Wyler – who coincidentally also shot “Night of the Big Heat” – often focuses on the character's faces. The opening credits play over an image of Janet Blair's blinking eye, which proceeds a dreamy POV shot later in the film. The interiors always seem cramped, creating a sense of unease between the characters before anything weird begins to happen. Tracking shots of hands or pistols further this sense of being watched. The frequent placement of a prominent eagle statue overlooking everyone makes it seem like an ominous overseer even before it springs to life in the last act. Shot in striking black-and-white, “Burn Witch Burn” really goes out of its way to wrap the audience up in its paranoid ambiance. 

Continuing its theme of the power of the human mind, director Sidney Hayers and Beaumont/Matheson's screenplay reveals something just as insidious as witchcraft behind the story's events: Resentment among co-workers and the strangled passion of campus life. Though Norman and Tansy are ostensibly accepted among their peers, neither can escape this feeling that they are both outsiders. This becomes especially evident after the professor is accused of assault by a student with a crush on him. All throughout the script, there's this idea of wants and passions deferred by the bounds of professionalism. When this is revealed as the motivating factor for the film's actual antagonist, it falls right in line with the film's worldview. Magic may or may not be real but emotions pushing humans to extreme actions and beliefs is undeniable. 

An uncommonly smart screenplay and some deeply glowering photography allows “Burn, Witch, Burn/Night of the Eagle” to build towards a nicely intense finale. The film is not as well known as the work Matheson and Beaumont did on “The Twilight Zone” but it's of a similar pedigree, ironic twist coming seconds before the final shot included. (And it's easily superior to “Weird Woman,” though that one's not bad either.) Hayers only made a few more movies you could call “horror,” mostly spending the rest of his career in television, which is a bit of a shame. He clearly showed an aptitude for it with this one. By the way, both titles are equally appropriate. The U.S. title is actually a line of dialogue spoken during a fiery event, falling in line with a story about witchcraft. The British title, meanwhile, accurately describes the climatic sequence. I think you can fairly say that night belong to that eagle. [8/10]

Bloodstone: Subspecies  II (1993)

In the early nineties, the booming video store market allowed low-budget producers to build long-running franchises off of fluke successes. (As long as the movies could be filmed in commercially viable places like South Africa or Eastern Europe.) This is why they made so many sequels to “Kickboxer,” “The Howling,” and similarly themed motion pictures. Nobody took more advantage of this than Charles Band's Full Moon Pictures. Clearly, “Subspecies” was a big enough hit for the company to expand on it the way they did the “Puppet Master” and “Trancers” series. Band had such confidence in the vampire saga – which surely had something to do with lucrative deals he made with Romanian partners – that second and third Radu adventures would be filmed back-to-back. “Bloodstone: Subspecies II” would appear on video store shelves in 1993.

Seemingly minutes after the end of the first “Subspecies,” Radu recapitates himself. He immediately takes his revenge on his brother, Stefan, and sets about making Michelle his fledgling. She escapes with the Bloodstone, making it to the near-by city of Bucharest. Michelle's sister, Rebecca, soon arrives in Romania, in search of her sister. While Michelle struggles with her new vampiric desires, Radu teams up with his mother – a mummified witch – in retrieving the Bloodstone and fully bringing Michelle over to the dark side. Rebecca teams up with a local American law enforcement officer and a professor of Transylvanian lore to find and save her sister before it's too late. 

Even more-so than the first movie, “Bloodstone” represents an interesting blending of two styles of horror. This is a Full Moon movie, through and through. There's outrageous gore – like Radu staking his brother and drinking from the fountain of blood that escapes – and gratuitous shower scenes for both of its leading ladies. Having Radu's mom be a literal mummy is exactly the kind of goofy, comic book elements you expect from a Full Moon movie. And yet “Subspecies II” clearly represents an attempt to court the goth/vampire subculture that was flourishing at the time. As in “The Hunger,” Michelle frequents a club where a gothic metal band moans on-stage. Much emphasis is placed on Michelle's angst from being a vampire, regretting her desire to drink blood and her attempts to hold onto her humanity. She does all of this while looking very glamorous in fancy dresses. Meanwhile, Radu attempts to temp her to the side of evil. The eternal beauty but endless agony of being a bloodsucker were such common themes in vampire fiction at the time. “Subspecies II” fits right in.

Much like the first “Subspecies,” “Bloodstone” was shot in the actual Transylvanian region of Romania, utilizing many genuine historical locations. Castles, tombs, and relics ancient with authentic age is the kind of production values that can't be made in any studio. The sequel takes place in the urban location of Bucharest, making great use of the gorgeous scenery and architecture. A glass coffin Michelle sleeps in just the most notable example of a nice production values this location afford the film. Director Ted Nicolaou and cinematographer Vlad Paunescu further attempt to elevate the movie with some shadowy visuals. “Subspecies II” gets a lot of mileage out of Radu casting his grasping shadow, massive and ominous, on stone walls. 

What truly makes “Bloodstone” superior to the first film is a surprisingly strong cast. Anders Hove as Radu, speaking solely in a raspy whisper while under grotesque make-up, remains an unforgettable horror villain. Denice Duff steps into the role of Michelle, replacing Lauren Tate from the first film and being a noticeably improvement. Duff projects vulnerability, while seeming to believe totally in the script's overheated melodrama. She's also a creditable seductress, when called upon to be a slinking vampire babe. Melanie Shanter – yes, Captain Kirk's daughter – is a likable co-heroine and has strong chemistry with Kevin Spiritas, as the inexplicably American cop in Bucharest. The movie also earns a lot of points for filling out its supporting cast with quirky characters. Like a Bucharest detective obsessed with American cop shows or a lovably eccentric folklorist, an exposition spouting role truly brought to life by Michael Denish.

I could never go so far as to refer to “Subspecies II” as “classy.” Very few Full Moon movies rose above the juvenile sensibilities of monsters, babes, blood, puppets, and boobs. Yet the crew of “Bloodstone” really tried their damnedest to elevate the goofy, melodramatic mythology it builds around its vampire shenanigans. The movie looks surprisingly good, the cast works way harder than necessary, while the script remains fast-paced. Ultimately, it's a highly entertaining slice of monster movie nonsense. To further that comic book feeling, the movie ends on a cliffhanger that will lead us right into “Subspecies III.” As if to say “Come back next month for more chilling tales, boils and ghouls!” It's hard not to love that... [7/10]

Cabinet of Curiosities: The Murmuring

The first season of “Cabinet of Curiosities” concludes with an episode from Jennifer Kent, her much anticipated return to the horror genre since “The Babadook.” To make it all the more exciting, Essie Davis starred in this hour as well. “The Murmuring” follows Nancy and Edgar Bradley, celebrated ornithologists. They have traveled to an isolated Scottish island to studying the murmurations – elaborate flock formations – of the local dunlins. The Bradley's marriage has gone frigid since the death of their daughter, which Nancy refuses to discus. Staying in the quiet home, the dunlins strangely roosting in the attic, Nancy begins to see and hear strange things. As the haunting grows in intensity, Nancy digs into the home's past and uncovers its buried secrets.

Guillermo del Toro has spoken, at lengths, of his admiration of the English ghost story. He has put his own spin on the genre with “The Devil's Backbone” and “The Orphanage.” “The Murmuring” represents del Toro, once again, setting foot into this style. This haunted house is unusually quiet. Nancy is awoken in the night by unusual whispers, strange voices, and half-glimpsed apparitions. The isolation and solemnness of the home quickly creates an atmosphere of unease. Jennifer Kent is, of course, equally good at creating an ambiance of chilly unrest as well as more full-throated scares. There are some in-your-face, shrieking ghosts here. Yet, even when aiming for bigger shocks, “The Murmuring” never forgets the heartache and guilt that drives the spirits. 

As in the best ghost stories, the unsound spirits and the shadows of the desolate home represent and reflect on the protagonist's own psychological hang-ups.  As in “The Babadook,” this is a story of repressed grief. Nancy has never processed the death of her child and it's destroying her marriage. Edgar wants to renew the passion with his wife, trying to urge her into love-making several times. This also coyly reflects the breeding season the birds they've come to study are in. Yet Nancy grows far more obsessed with the ghost story she's uncovering. That this mystery she's drawn to involves a dead child and an ignored woman is surely why she's so interested. The murmuring of the birds connects with the whispering of the ghosts but also with the thoughts and feelings Nancy can't bring herself to verbalize. 

The backstory of the haunting, slowly uncovered throughout the hour, is classical stuff. There's an affair, a child born out of wedlock, and heartbreak. Unsurprisingly, Kent finds a feminist reading to this material as well. “The Murmuring” is set in the 1950s, a decade when men were not really expected to listen to their wives. More than once, Nancy expresses frustration with her husband. Not just with his need to push his wife back itno physical intimacy, when she's not ready, but with his disregard for her struggles as a woman in a male-dominated profession. Yet “The Murmuring” is, more than anything, concerned with bringing a voice to shunned, shamed feelings. It's a classy, well-produced hour of ghostly atmosphere. [7/10]

Chucky: Chucky Actually

Season two of “Chucky” wraps up with a Christmas episode, which I find horribly distasteful in the tail end of September. But I've come this far, so I might as well wrap it up. Picking up several months after the previous episode, Lexy has just left rehab. Jake and Devon are visiting her mom's place for Christmas dinner. Meanwhile, Jennifer Tilly/Tiffany visits Glen in the hospital, successfully transferring her children's souls into the same doll. Using Dr. Mixler's body, Chucky has once again escaped death. As the holiday rolls around, he plots revenge on the kids. Tiffany arrives at Mayor Cross' home on Christmas Eve as well, looking for the Belle doll that was gifted to Caroline.

“Chucky Actually” is basically an extended post-script to season two, rather than a grand finale. It confirms that Jake and Devon's relationship has been stormy, while implying that they'll stay together. It shows Lexy overcoming addiction. If it doesn't conclude the subplot involving Tiffany, Glen, Glenda, and Nica, it at least brings things to a good pausing point. Naturally, the finale also makes sure that the titular killer doll has survived, with a few lingering storylines that a third season can pick up. Some of these are more promising than others. I really don't care about Lexy's little sister and her possibly growing into a killer strikes me as a desperate story thread to develop. Yet it is nice that the teens have been brought to a satisfactory place. 

 

My tolerance for episodes like this, that exist largely to put the various subplots into position for the next story arc, is usually low. Yet “Chucky Actually” does touch on an interesting theme: Fucked-up parenting. Through a roundabout course of action, Lexy ends up re-conciliating with her enormously selfish mother. Chucky and Tiffany have been shitty parents to their children as well, with Glen/Glenda finally being allowed their own destiny here. The show seems to be moving towards the point that, while our flawed parents may effect how we live our lives, they don't have to define us. 

That's not the reason we watch this show, of course. We watch “Chucky” to see Chucky fucking people up and being a vicious little smart-ass. “Chucky Actually” provides plenty of that too. The episode may, in fact, feature the most fucked-up death scene in not just the series but perhaps the entire franchise. Setting such carnage against the Christmas holiday does provide some novelty as well. (Even if I'm not personally in the mood for December frivolity at this very moment.) Hearing Brad Dourif's gravelly voice put a spin on classic Christmas carols and themes did bring a sick little grin to my face.  [7/10]

And that was “Chucky: Season Two.” Overall, I would say it was a big improvement over the first season. Season two saw the show embracing its own campy spirit more often, taking the characters and settings into wilder directions. Focusing more on established characters from the films made up for the sometimes lackluster melodrama of the younger cast. Introducing multiple different types of Chuckies led to a lot of goofy fun, while expanding the franchise's mythology in more imaginative ways. The program still suffers from a lot of the same bullshit writing choices that hamper most serialized TV shows. Yet season two was, on the whole, funnier, gorier, and nuttier than season one. I'm calling that a win. I hear season three will be set in the White House? Intriguing... [Chucky: Season Two: 7/10]

CHRISTMAS 2022: The Leech (2022)

Let us consider the career of Jeremy Gardner. As a director, Gardner made low budget zombie fave “The Battery” and quirky creature feature “After Midnight.” As an actor, he's appeared in films from indie horror auteurs like Benson and Moorehead, Mickey Keating, and the aforementioned Joe Begos. (In fact, he even popped up in “Christmas Bloody Christmas.”) He also appeared in “Sadistic Intentions,” a film from director Eric Pennycoff. I haven't seen that one or even heard of it before. Yet I felt compelled to check out “The Leech,” Pennycoff's follow-up, anyway. Perhaps that's because I like Garnder or maybe it's just because it's a Christmas-set horror movie that's not about Santa or the Krampus or anything like that. It's nice to have some variety in the holiday horror genre.

Catholic priest David leads a congregation of exactly one, with his assistant Rigo seemingly being the only person who attends his church at all. On the way home from another practically empty sermon, David meets Terry. Following an argument with his girlfriend, the foul-mouthed Terry is facing homelessness. David decides to take the man in, despite his obnoxious habits and vulgar opinions. It's almost Christmas after all. Soon afterwards, Terry reconciles with Lexi, his girlfriend. She moves into David's house too. As the holiday draws closer, David finds his capacity for forgiveness and charity tested by his increasingly depraved house guests. They'll continue to challenge the priest's resolve, pushing him further to the edge of sanity.

“The Leech” has a clever set-up for a dark comedy that quickly pushes towards horror. David endeavors to live his life like Christ. He wants to help the helpless and is happy to invite Terry, someone who has fallen on hard luck, into his home. Yet this is a house guest that quickly pushes the limits of Christian charity. It’s an easy story to relate to, of wanting to help someone but also wanting to protect your own sanity. Most of us have experiences with guests that have overstayed their welcome and “The Leech” pushes that as far as possible. Terry refuses to respect boundaries, blaring heavy metal throughout the day and night, constantly swearing, and seemingly delighting in exposing the priestly David to drugs, alcohol, and sexual acts. Under these circumstances, we’d all crack eventually. 

This puts us in David’s corner. Clearly, Terry and Lexi are the villains in this scenario, right? Yet “The Leech” has a nice layer of ambiguity to it, by slowly revealing that David is not all he appears to be. There’s a suggestion that his current puritan lifestyle was born out of a past as a partying homosexual. (Which the film nicely doesn’t explore too much, leaving the audience to wonder.) When the topic of Lexi being pregnant comes up, David goes on a disingenuous anti-abortion rant. After the house guests push him too far, David begins to enforce his own morality on them in creepy ways. Yes, he seems to have some hang-ups about his dead mother too. “The Leech” shows all of its central trio slipping into depravity and instability, making this more complex than just a story about uninvited guests driving you nuts. 

David does get driven nuts though. He slips more and more into madness as “The Leech” goes on, the film getting more hallucinatory as the violence and embittered speeches get more intense. Pennycoff’s direction is strong during these moments. He makes good use of Christmas lights for mood coloring and has a good handle on dream logic. (Even if the cinematography is a bit too dark in general.) Yet “The Leech” does loose its footing some the more out there it gets. Luckily, the performances remain compelling. Graham Skipper has a pleasant avuncular quality as David. Watching his kind exterior slowly melt away towards bitterness and madness is rewarding. Jeremy Gardner goes amusingly over-the-top as Terry, clearly relishing a chance to play a character who disregards all tact and good taste. 

"The Leech" does have its fair share of Christmas atmosphere too, even if it's only tangentially about the holiday. The story of someone striving to be Christ-like during the holiest of seasons, and eventually failing spectacularly, touches on the meaning of the day more than most December films do. Coming in at a compact 87 minutes, "The Leech" doesn't overstay its welcome the way its characters do. It's an amusingly nasty dark comedy that satisfied my desire for a twisted spin on the Christmas holiday. [7/10]

CHRISTMAS 2022: Christmas Bloody Christmas (2022)

If you follow the independent horror scene, you've probably heard the name Joe Begos. Begos started to make a name for himself in 2013 with sci-fi slasher flick, “Almost Human.” By 2015's “The Mind's Eye,” his aesthetic started to emerge. Begos makes throwback horror flicks that are heavy on the gore, neon lighting, colorfully and profane dialogue, with soundtracks that alternate between synths and heavy metal. His movies are often frequent homages to Fangoria favorites of the past. “The Mind's Eye” was obviously inspired by “Scanners,” “VFW” clearly drew from “Assault on Precinct 13,” “Bliss” was his riff on “Driller Killer.” Unfortunately, I've yet to see a Begos movie I've actually liked, as I find his style to be self-indulgent and obnoxious. Yet when I read his next film was a seasonal slasher named “Christmas Bloody Christmas,” I knew I would once again take a chance on a Begos joint. 

Should we continue to discuss “Christmas Bloody Christmas,” we must accept the main facet of its premise: That military contractors have created highly advanced, humanoid robots for war-time operations and then, for some reason, re-purposed them as utterly life-like Santa Clauses for toy stores. One such robot is residing in a toy store, near the vinyl/video stores Tori and Robbie work at. On Christmas, they head out for a night of drinking and partying. That's when the Santa robot reverts back to its murderous programming. The machine goes on a killing spree, targeting Tori's friends before following her back to her sister's place. The ax-wielding mechanical Claus chases her to the police station afterwards, turning December 25th into a blood-soaked nightmare.

“Christmas Bloody Christmas” represents Joe Begos' style at its most self-indulgent. Nearly the entire first half-hour is devoted to Riley Dandy and Sam Delich, as Tori and Robbie, trading self-consciously vulgar dialogue. They talk about drinking, sex, music, and horror movies. To make sure the hardcore genre fans in the audience know Begos is One of Us, “Pet Sematary Two” and the Crypt-Keeper Christmas album are among the discussed topic. (Alongside oral sex, analingus, and Lemmy.) “Fuck” is seemingly every other word. Nearly the entire film is lit in neon and blurring metal and synth fill out the soundtrack. And, as in Begos' previous films, this is a blatant homage to a certified genre classic. In this case, it's “The Terminator,” which is obvious when the Robot Santa attacks a police station and then reveals a robotic skeleton under its human-like skin. 

Now, it's a matter of opinion whether you find any of the above charming. Personally, I mostly find it incredibly irritating. Dandy and Delich do not make these broad, loud characters endearing. The non-stop profanity is just another facet of their aggressively in-your-face personalities. Horror movies don't have to have likable characters but, when trying to raise tension or create thrills, it helps. When you don't care about whether these people live or die, it's hard to be too invested in anything that happens. This means “Christmas Bloody Christmas” is mostly one of those slasher flicks that's just about gory special effects. Sadly, those aren't too impressive here either. The robotic Santa mostly executes people with simple axe swings, the dismembered bodies and crushed heads looking very rubbery and fake. 

I can't help but feel like “Christmas Bloody Christmas” is not a film that's meant to be taken seriously. The robotic Santa premise is absurd, after all, and the plot is full of contrivances. The fake looking gore and loud-mouthed characters further suggests this is a horror/comedy of sorts.  Yet if that's the case, the film is never especially funny. Its horror sequence are largely grim and downbeat, including the death of a child. The second half is a relentless chase scene that goes on and on, the robotic Santa pursuing Tori until the final seconds of the movie. In fact, I was left wondering why it's a killer Santa movie at all. The murderous Claus doesn't do anything festive or seasonal, not even speaking a ho-ho-ho. For that matter, why is this a robot movie either when all the murders are done with an axe? A regular person can kill people with an axe! Aside from robotic sound effects, the killer looks and moves like a normal person throughout most of the film. Kind of defeats the purpose of the idea, don't you think?

In other words, “Christmas Bloody Christmas” feels like a half-assed attempt at yuletide mayhem  to me. It doesn't really utilize any of its defining gimmicks in meaningful ways. The story feels directionless and the pacing is meandering. Really, the entire film feels like an exercise in Joe Begos just putting random shit he likes into a movie, wrapped up around the loose theme of a Christmas slasher flick. And that's great, for Begos and the folks that share his enthusiasm for screaming fuck, debating the quality of horror sequels, and floppy fake body parts. I can't count myself among this crowd though. A lot of people seem to enjoy this one so to each their own. [5/10]