 A FilmExposed Film Review |
 Dir: Glen Morgan, 2006, USA, 84mins
Cast: Katie Cassidy, Michelle Trachtenberg, Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Oliver Hudson
The original Black Christmas (1974) is considered by some to be a forgotten classic that never gained the attention or notoriety of films such as Halloween (1978). While the horror market has shifted somewhat post-Scream, it seems that some things never change – audiences still jump at loud noises, killers always come back and teenage girls always take leave sense of their senses when there’s a psychopath on the loose. In this case, the killer is Billy Lenz, a young man who murdered and ate his family one Christmas morning and has been locked in an insane asylum ever since. The family home has subsequently become a sorority house full of nubile young girls and it’s no great surprise when Billy escapes the asylum, heads home and all manner of nastiness follows.
Make no mistake about it, Black Christmas is exploitation cinema through and through. It makes no pretence of being high art, nor does it attempt to reinvent the genre. Resolutely old-school in its sensibilities, the 2006 version stays true to the spirit of the original but does update certain aspects for its modern audience. Where the original offered no motivation for the killer, the remake is heavy on the back-story, showing how Billy Lenz grew into his role as cannibalistic murderer. While child abuse and a very unpleasant case of incest play their part, one gets the impression that what really tipped Billy over the edge was his alcoholic mother telling him that the Russians killed Santa Claus. The mother is shown as the most vile harridan imaginable and is the primary cause of Billy’s psychosis. While it’s possible to argue that the addition of a back-story diminishes one of the original film’s most horrifying aspects (that murder often lacks motive and random acts of violence are the most terrifying), the flashback sequences fit in well and help move the story forwards. Given that the sorority girls are largely identical and occasionally difficult to distinguish (except for Eve, who looks spookily like one of the Hanson Brothers in Slap Shot (1977)) giving the killer some character seems like a wise decision.
It’s a curious thing to discuss the entertainment factor of a horror film. What should appal us instead delights and Black Christmas serves this paradox perfectly. The acts of violence are disturbing, but the overall aura is that of a group of people having a good time. In this case, it’s obviously not the characters, but rather the filmmakers who seem to be having a ball. Working within the boundaries schlock-horror, they seem to have rolled up their sleeves and set about creating the most grisly entertainment possible. The combination of blood, black humour and the knowing sense of self combine to make Black Christmas a smart film masquerading as dumb fun. Needless to say, that’s a much more satisfying arrangement than the other way around. |
