Census Bloodbath: For Goodness Sake

Year: 1989

Director: Monte Hellman

Cast: Samantha Scully, Bill Moseley, Richard Beymer

Run Time: 1 hour 30 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

The genesis of Silent Night, Deadly Night III: Better Watch Out! is about as ignominious as a direct-to-video sequel can get. When director Monte Hellman was approached by his friend, who was producing the film, he only agreed to it because he had a wild fever and thought he was going to die. As it happens, he did not - in fact - perish, and he ended up at the helm of a low rent sequel to a low rent recut of an OK slasher in 1989, the year of the subgenre's ignoble death.

As you can imagine, the resulting film isn't exactly an undiscovered gem of 80's horror. But at least it's in reluctant continuity with the first two films, stretching itself rather farther than other - more prominent - franchises managed to do (Halloween III is notorious for not being about Michael Myers at all, but an evil mask company powered by Stonehenge. And it only took Nightmare on Elm Street one movie to turn into a gay body horror parable.). I mean, the film is insane, completely twisting the character of Ricky to fit into the post-Nightmare supernatural model, giving him a brain-exposing helmet that looks like a macabre terrarium and transplanting him from Utah to Southern California. But yes, this is actually a storyline worthy of commendation.

What passed for continuity in the slasher genre could only have survived in a decade powered by copious amounts of cocaine.

The film (when it finally begins after an interminably dull opening dream sequence where we see a girl sleep for two minutes then walk slowly around a white room for twice that) revolves around the exploits of drunk-on-science Doctor Newbury (Richard Beymer), who has a coma patient/ex-Santa Claus axe murderer named Ricky Caldwell (Bill Moseley of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2) under his care. He experiments with a psychic blind girl named Laura (Samantha Scully) and attempts to use her dreams to access Ricky's subconscious memories*.

After a drunk hospital Santa carouses his way into Ricky's room on Christmas Eve, the catatonic serial killer is awoken by the twin naughty sins of yuletide inebriation and terrible puns ("Who's your favorite singer? Perry Coma?"). His seasonal rage is reignited and he uses his psychic link with Laura to follow her to her grandmother's place in Piru (this sequel is so firmly entrenched in its region, it would be commendable if it didn't so boldly fly in the face of the beautiful Utah scenery of the first film). With his brain firmly ensconced in its space-age chapeau and his trusty knife in hand, he skulks around Granny's (Elizabeth Hoffman) farm, putting Laura, her brother Chris (Eric DaRe of Twin Peaks), and his girlfriend Jerri (Laura Herring) at risk.

While Ricky's on the prowl, he is pursued by Dr. Newbury and the police Lieutenant Connely (Robert Culp). Either the budget was too limited or Robert Culp was too important, but these scenes almost entirely take place inside the car en route, presumably shot through in the course of one evening. So the film switches between dreary horror and the oddly homoerotic tensions between the two pursuers as the doctor spouts thoughtful monologues like he had eaten a thesaurus for lunch and it was beginning to disagree with him ("[blowing smoke up your ass] sounds like an enterprise of great pith and circumstance...").

*After the success of A Nightmare on Elm Street, these types of paranormal elements began creeping into the even the most stalwartly traditional of slasher franchises. Jason became a zombie and fought a telekinetic Final Girl. Michael became the victim of a druid cult. And the Prom Night franchise got crossfaded with the movie Carrie and featured a magical prom ghost for two of its middle entries.

What a magical decade.

Centering the plot around a family returning home for the holidays is a good move. It keeps the Christmas spirit intact because it's firmly entrenched in the plot itself. This is a great benefit because Ricky no longer takes on his Santa persona and the number of Christmas-related kills is nil. Come to think of it, the number of actual kills is just about nil as well, considering that just about every death takes place offscreen. There are some brief, half-hearted gore shots (some intestines and a surprisingly decent-looking severed head), but they take place long after the fact and are entirely separate from the action of the moment. They're more like a brief series of grisly tableaux than actual special effects integrated into the film itself.

Because of the dearth of decent special effects and the lethargic pacing of the plot itself, the film perfectly captures the feeling of slowly drifting off to sleep. This may have been what they were going for, I suppose, but I do not feel willing to bestow the benefit of the doubt upon a horror film with such anemic, plodding scares. Even the attack scenes in the finale are staged with deliberate pacing and stuffy presentationalism like a particularly arid episode of Masterpiece Theatre. Not even the music is attempting to spruce things up, largely sitting out the big scenes, and filling the moments in which it does appear with a shrilly sustained pitch like a hyperactive dog whistle. In fact, one kill is literally accompanied by the sound of crickets.

Silent Night Deadly Night III is mostly not even bad-good, which is a register with which this franchise has proven itself very familiar, so it's quite a disappointment. It's merely a perplexing botchery of the cabin in the woods genre. The paranormal elements are ill-established and have no payoff (also, Granny is psychic enough to know when the phone's about to ring but not deduce that the silent man stolidly eating mashed potatoes at her dinner table with his brain exposed is about to kill her), the kills are limp dishwater, and there's not even any exploitation of particular interest. Although Chris' bathtub scene and prodigious pelt of chest hair are charming in a soothingly retro sort of way.

A cheapo exploitation horror movie that sees fit to include a bath scene, yet neither kills the characters nor has them bang is a thorough waste of time.

Never forget this image when you're watching evil Leo be evil in Twin Peaks.

The mystical pure 80's factor is present in enough of the film to keep the suitably historical-minded engaged despite the extreme defecits of the plot and presentation. It comes through with especial strength in scenes like the lieutenant extolling the virtues of his car phone, Jerri offering Laura a naturally carbonated water with a look of reverent wonder on her face, and the fashion. 

Oh, the fashion! Chris, on top of looking like an anthropomorphic mop, drapes himself with denim to the point where I can only assume his underwear is likewise blue and scratchy. And Laura's outfit for a large portion of the film seems to be of a fashion movement entirely unknown to me called "business witch." 

Also, her earrings are, like, totally righteous.

On top of this, there are several (well, one or two) actively good elements of the film, though they rear their heads too rarely to actively applaud. First, the director seems to be somewhat present, unlike the previous films, festooning the movie with little visual fillips that are in a realm somewhere adjacent to cinema. My favorite of these moments is when Ricky gets up from his hospital bed, represented by a close-up of his IV unhooking. It's inelegant, but it evokes an image and an emotional response, something desperately lacking by most of the other moments.

And Scully is a decent Final Girl (the first legitimate character of that type in the series). She can't scream worth a lick, but there's a few lines of dialogue that feel lived-in and warm. Eric DaRe is another standout, his chemistry with the other actors proving to be a vital element in not wanting to drown oneself while watching the film.

Would you look at that? I'm ending on a high note. Silent Night, Deadly Night III: Better Watch Out! certainly doesn't deserve it, but hey. It's Christmastime.

Killer: Ricky Caldwell (Bill Moseley)

Final Girl: Laura Anderson (Samantha Scully)

Best Kill: Dr. Newbury is stabbed in the gut and during his death scene (like 20 minutes later) we get to see his intestines. This is the extent of interesting visuals in the film.

Sign of the Times: Chris' badass gun-totin' one-liner is "Is it live, or is it Memorex?"

Scariest Moment: Laura tries to rush out the door, but is blocked by Chris and Jerri coming back inside. It's.... not the scariest film I've ever seen.

Weirdest Moment: When a gas station attendant is off being decapitated, his girlfriend talks dirty through the phone on the desk.

Champion Dialogue: "Who said you had to be the world's champion blind orphan?"

Body Count: 11; not including a nurse who dies in a dream or a man whose eyes are pecked out by a bird on TV. Kills that appear in flashback footage from Silent Night, Deadly Night are in italics.

1. Ellie Chapman Caldwell has her throat slit.
2. Hospital Santa is killed offscreen.
3. Receptionist is killed offscreen.
4. Father O'Brien Old Man Kelsey is shot to death. 
5. PT Cruiser Driver is killed offscreen.
6. Gas Station Greg is decapitated offscreen.
7. Granny is hung offscreen.
8. Dr. Newbury is stabbed in the gut.
9. Jerri is stabbed in the chest offscreen.
10. Chris is choked with a shotgun.
11. Ricky is shot and impaled on a pool cue. 

TL;DR: Silent Night, Deadly Night III: Better Watch Out! is a boring sequel that keeps its best moments offscreen.

Rating: 3/10

Word Count: 1635

Reviews In This Series

Silent Night, Deadly Night (Sellier Jr., 1984)

Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2 (Harry, 1987)

Silent Night, Deadly Night III: Better Watch Out! (Hellman, 1989)

Silent Night, Deadly Night IV: Initiation (Yuzna, 1990)

Silent Night, Deadly Night V: The Toy Maker (Kitrosser, 1991)

Silent Night (Miller, 2012)

Kim Jong Oops

Year: 2014

Director: Evan Goldberg & Seth Rogen

Cast: James Franco, Seth Rogen, Randall Park

Run Time: 1 hour 52 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

It is at this point obligatory to point out that it's obligatory to point out the controversy surrounding Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg's new film The Interview. But all this hand-wringing will get us nowhere, so let's get right to it. Sony was hacked and theaters that premiered The Interview on Christmas day were threatened. You can read all about it in my article here. 

But after a swift backtrack (possibly having realized that thanks to the media coverage and first amendment-touting American audiences, they would make approximately a kerjillion percent more in box office than if the release were uneventful), Sony gave the film a limited release in a couple hundred indie theaters nationwide and allowed flag-hungry viewers to do their patriotic duty and purchase it via online streaming one day early. Everyone in the media and across the globe seems a little muddled about the ramifications of this decision, especially now that there's considerable evidence that North Korea might not have actually been directly involved. But let's just agree not to take anybody on the entire planet at their word at this point and look at the facts.

The Interview has been released. So far, nothing terrible has happened. And, from the physical evidence of the film itself I can conclusively say that if nuclear tensions arise from this decent but underwhelming comedy, then the world is in even worse shape than I thought. It was not wise of Sony to greenlight a film about the assassination of a currently standing leader, especially one as notoriously three-crayons-short as Kim Jong-un. Nor was it wise to release it on Christmas because seriously, who is programming these Christmas releases this year? American Sniper? Unbroken? I'm gagging on the gritty bioptastic jingoism.

But The Interview is a lark. It's just another frat comedy, using the background of a derelict regime to lend gravitas and irony to the parade of dick jokes.

In the measuring contest, the tank wins by a landslide.

As just about everyone in the solar system knows at this point, The Interview is about entertainment "journalist" Dave Skylark (James Franco) and his producer Aaron Rapaport (Seth Rogen), who are asked to assassinate North Korean dictator Kim Jong-un (Randall Park) when they score an exclusive interview with him. The two best buds see this as a way of pushing their careers forward, but when Kim and Dave form a fast friendship and Aaron falls head-over-heels for Sook (Diana Bang), a sexy propagandist, things get complicated.

And by "complicated," I mean "North Korean boner jokes." But I don't mean to devalue the film in its entirety. There are some genuinely decent moments of comedy and - it must be said - the dick jokes can be pretty great. As is to be expected by anyone who has been awake in the Anglosphere for more than five minutes, there are moments that tip into the less sensitive end of the spectrum, but the whiffs of misogyny, racism, and homophobia are not strong enough to be truly poisonous.

This is literally all we can ask in a movie where every female character (of which there are a mere two) is immediately treated as a source of erotic pleasure, even if they're in a position of power - say, a CIA agent or a high-ranking official of a militaristic dictatorship. Here's a little experiment - next time you have a female judge at a hearing (although - since you are reading this blog - I am certain that you are a peace-loving, law-abiding, respectable individual and won't find yourself in this situation), wolf whistle as loud as you can and follow that up with a nice "va-va-voom" or two. See where that gets you and send me a note in the comments.

Science is fun!

There are plenty of fun, non-execrable comic moments, especially in the first half hour (in which the film focuses more or less exclusively on incisive pop culture riffs rather than uneven political satire), but none will have you carted off to the E. R. for a busted gut. And they begin to peter out once the duo actually arrives in North Korea, which isn't as thoroughly represented as it could have been, either through shyness or lack of current information. Although the destitution of the country is mentioned many times, it is almost never seen. In a way it makes sense - it's easier to understand why Skylark would have trouble seeing the problem, and this is a comedy - not a documentary. But if we're going the political route, which a movie like this inevitably can't avoid, why not go all in?

This sort of gradual wearing out as the film goes along is present in the aesthetics as well as the comedy. In fact, the very first moments of the film are its absolute best, using color theory, framing, composition, and juxtaposition to establish the bleak atmosphere of North Korea as well as the fact that Dave Skylark is an ill-informed man-child whose program can't hold up to the likes of hard news. This is all accomplished swiftly and efficiently in the opening minute and a half, a level of cinematic prowess that swiftly vanishes, like the very last of our Christmas cookies before I woke up this morning, damn it!

But despite its drawn-out decline, The Interview is never less than pleasant, though it evaporates from the tongue as soon as it's tasted. Riding as it does on the backs of a gaggle of strong performances, it may be wobbly but it never falls down. James Franco isn't far from his usual schtick, but his act of character creation is more than meets the eye, with subtle, ingrained tackiness that draws some big laughs. Seth Rogen is consistent as always, but Randall Park and Lizzy Caplan (as the sexy Agent Lacey) are the real standouts in this parade of malfeasance.

That's right, smoke that victory cigar.

I have sung Park's praises again and again, but he outdoes himself as the little-seen despot, finding outrageous humor in Kim Jong-un's stunted personality, but simultaneously harnessing a raw power that breaks through his cuddly teddy bear persona and makes him a character to truly fear. Any actor could have coasted on the realities of the dictator's presence in the audience's subconscious, but Park goes above and beyond to menace and create a subtle, cunning villain that elevates the cheery comedy into something even remotely meaningful.

And although Lizzy Caplan's character is nothing but a flesh shell with a great rack, she brings a warmth and humanity to the role, grounding even the most ridiculous one-liners into a realistically human character despite her remarkably minuscule screen time. Without these four performers, The Interview would collapse like a despotic regime after the removal of its leader.

All in all, The Interview is a decent way to kill an hour and a half, but it's nothing to write home about. It's especially nothing to write to North Korea about. Its ill-handled release is a source of great turmoil in the industry at the moment, but as the waters settle, let's allow this film to become a footnote rather than define the moviegoing experience of 2014. It's really not memorable enough to deserve much more than that.

If you take one thing away from this movie, please let it be that Randall Park deserves more starring roles. Make it happen, America.

TL;DR: The Interview is a forgettable bro comedy driven by several terrific performances.
Rating: 6/10
Should I Spend Money On This? That's your call. If you want to do your part for 'Murca, you can rest assured that you'll be pretty safe in doing so. If you want to skip it, you won't miss much.
Word Count: 1312

Census Bloodbath: Creep In Heavenly Peace

Year: 1987

Director: Lee Harry

Cast: Eric Freeman, James Newman, Elizabeth Kaitan

Run Time: 1 hour 28 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

I know it's December 26th, but why let the Christmas spirit die so soon? Just like the implacable killers of yore, let the festive activities return to life as we explore the improbable sequel to one of the most notorious slasher films ever created: Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2.

The mere existence of this film is a fluke. After a massive controversy got Silent Night, Deadly Night pulled from theaters, a studio bought the film negative and took to a team of editors, asking them to create a new film from the existing material. The editors asserted that this was pretty much impossible and suggested that they instead create a new framework storyline and use the existing footage as flashback material. They were given the studio's blessing along with a modest sum of money and thus Part 2 was born.

It is not, as you can imagine, a masterpiece.

This film was not the first film to use this gimmick, nor was it the last, but the fact remains that the first 45 minutes are just a parade of recycled material given the framework of Ricky (Eric Freeman), the younger brother from the first film, telling a psychiatrist (James L. Newman) about his older brother's killer Santa exploits. In a way, it kind of works. This sequence is just a TL;DR Cliff's Notes version of the original film full of rapid-fire kills, trimming the fat away from the pacing. Because of this hack and slash approach, much of the rapey nastiness of several sequences is also toned down, and you will never hear me complaining about a deficit of rapey nastiness.

The problem is that people who haven't seen SNDN won't really be able to make sense of the mishmash storytelling - the doctor himself doesn't even seem to completely follow. Given the fact that the character of Ricky is only in like twelve seconds of the first film, there's far too much time devoted to moments he couldn't possibly have known about and a lot of the character development is thrown out the window. Some names are changed too, but I'm not going to fly into a nerd rage about a Christmas slasher franchise, I'm really not. It's bad for the heart. But the flashback material inadequately coheres with the rest of the film, let me just give you that.

The other problem (you'll soon find out that this film is comprised of almost nothing but problems) is that those who have seen the film won't need to see these moments again. No new context is given for the recut footage other than a slightly shifted perspective. But the difference between "I killed 9 people" and "my brother killed 9 people" is too subtle a distinction for a film so hamhanded as this. The pacing of these scenes occasionally improve upon the original, but my best suggestion for watching this sequel is to wait a year after the first one before you pop this baby in, so the events of Silent Night, Deadly Night have faded from your mind and you won't be bored to tears, but you'll have enough prior knowledge to fill in the gaps.

Once this segment ends and the film proper begins rev into gear, the film idles as it finds itself in the middle of an entirely new story about Ricky's murderous Christmas exploits avenging his brother (tossed in among copious murderous flashbacks in which the color red triggers Ricky like a yuletide bull). This reset throws a wrench into the already ropy pacing, but it's merely a brief catch. It's like blowing bubbles through a trumpet (don't ask). The soap has to twist and wind its way through the pipes, then it has to pause for a moment, building strength before it can bloom into a decadent, messy spectacle of iridescent beauty.

This is just the calm before the storm, buddy.

Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2 is bad. Damn bad. Don't let anybody try to convince you otherwise.  But it's the kind of pristine, gaudy piece of crap that keeps me watching these things. Many people are familiar with the Garbage Day scene thanks to its popularity as a viral YouTube sensation, but not even the vile depths of the Internet can prepare one for the movie theater scene (in which Ricky and his girlfriend Jennifer - Friday the 13th Part VII's Elizabeth Kaitan - go to the movies to see Silent Night, Deadly Night) or the jumper cable scene. Or the doctor commenting on the flashbacks like he's watching a movie ("It's fairly obvious where he was going."). Or the evil Charlie Brown music, the aged Mother Superior (Jean Miller) covered in boils, and the car crash meet cute. Or the anything. It's the gift that keeps on giving.

But all of these treasures would be nothing without Eric Freeman as the centerpiece. His elaborate, eyebrow-wiggling, non-acting is essential viewing for the bad movie fanatic. He's the whole package. Freeman is built like a brick house, which beefs up his rather chaste lovemaking sequence considerably. His laugh is practically a paternity test proving that he is responsible for Tommy Wiseau. And when his eyebrows aren't smugly waggling with every syllable like they're in the process of being electrocuted and trying to escape from his face, he delivers his lines like a concrete slab spitting out granite pebbles.

And he's one of the better ones. While Eric Freeman is busy performing like he's overdosing on Botox, the sparse sets and too-showy supporting actors do nothing to convince that this isn't merely a very long, very festive porn intro.

That takes some very dark turns.

There are only two actively good elements of the film, and neither are particularly commendable outside of the slasher grading curve. First, the victim of sexual assault in this film is not punished for being assaulted, which instantly makes this film less nasty-minded than its predecessor. Second, the kills are a cornucopia of cheesy, campy fun. Umbrellas, jumper cables, magnetic tape, and just about every part of a car are used to destroy unwary wrongdoers. Even when Ricky gets a gun (typically the signal for the most boring part of a slasher film), the kills are strange and creative enough to deserve praise.

But in spite of its tentatively positive and bad-good elements, Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2 is bogged down by an enormous lack of technical distinction. The editing is choppy, the camerawork is surprisingly ambitious but low quality, and the film as a whole suffers for it. It's not dissimilar enough from the legitimately quite good original film (it shares its atonal structure and lack of a traditional Final Girl - oh, and about 45 minutes of footage) to feel like its own being and the parts that aren't original are fun but can't be called "good" cinema under any circumstances, at least if I want to remain un-excommunicated from polite society.

It's a fun flick with some bat guano crazy moments, but it's a terrible double bill with the original film. But while it fails in its sequel duties, it's technically not even supposed to exist in the first place so I suppose it can be forgiven. Despite its problems, I'm glad we exist in a world where a film like this can happen.

Killer: Ricky Caldwell (Eric Freeman)

Final Girl: Sister Mary (Nadya Wynd), but not really

Best Kill: A vicious loan shark is impaled with an umbrella which then opens, covered in his guts.

Sign of the Times: Jennifer's ex-boyfriend, Chip (who stood her up, cheated on her, and ruined her best sweater), looks like Billy Idol got hit by a van full of yuppies in the middle of bleaching his hair.

Scariest Moment: While watching a movie, a man leans over to his friend (played by cameoing director Lee Harry) repeatedly to make comments, only to discover that Eric has taken his seat.

Weirdest Moment: Ricky sees a man taking out the trash, shouts "GARBAGE DAY?!" and shoots him to death.

Champion Dialogue: "You tend to get paranoid when everyone around you gets dead."

Body Count: 24; Not including Ricky, who is given a traditional "killer's still alive" shot, or the toy Santa, snowman, and televisions set that are unceremoniously axed. The kills that appear in footage from Silent Night, Deadly Night are in italics.

1. Jim Chapman Caldwell is shot to death.
2. Ellie Chapman Caldwell has her throat slit. 
3. Andy is hung with Christmas lights.
4. Pamela is gutted with a box cutter.
5. Sims is hit in the head with the back of a claw hammer.
6. Helen is shot in the back with a bow and arrow. 
7. Denise is impaled on deer antlers.
8. Tommy is thrown through a window and impaled on the glass. 
9. Mac is beheaded with an axe while sledding.
10. Father O'Brien Old Man Kelsey is shot to death.
11. Officer Barnes is axed in the chest.
12. Billy Chapman Caldwell is shot to death. 
13. Eddie is run over repeatedly with his own car. 
14. Rocko is impaled with an umbrella, which then opens.
15. Loudmouth Moviegoer is killed offscreen.
16. Chip is electrocuted with a jumper cable on his tongue and his eyes explode.
17. Jennifer is strangled with a car antenna.
18. Cop is shot in the head with his own gun.
19. Complaining Neighbor is shot.
20. Garbage Neighbor is shot.
21. Driving Man crashes his car and it explodes.
22. Doc Henry is strangled with magnetic tape. 
23. Charity Santa is killed offscreen.
24. Mother Superior is decapitated with an axe. 

TL;DR: Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2 is insane and inadequately differentiated from the first film, but full of fun campy moments like strange stocking stuffers.

Rating: 6/10

Word Count: 1631

Reviews In This Series

Silent Night, Deadly Night (Sellier Jr., 1984)

Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2 (Harry, 1987)

Silent Night, Deadly Night III: Better Watch Out! (Hellman, 1989)

Silent Night, Deadly Night IV: Initiation (Yuzna, 1990)

Silent Night, Deadly Night V: The Toy Maker (Kitrosser, 1991)

Silent Night (Miller, 2012)

Census Bloodbath: All Is Calm, All Is Fright

Year: 1984

Director: Charles E. Sellier, Jr.

Cast: Robert Brian Wilson, Gilmer McCormick, Toni Nero

Run Time: 1 hour 19 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

Merry Christmas, everybody! If you celebrate the holiday, I hope you have a great time ignoring your family to read this review. If you don't, hopefully a festive slasher feels enough like counter-programming that you'll stick around anyway. I oh so adore holiday horror, and the Christmas season is rife with gaudy gruesome flicks filled with puns like Santa's Slay, Black Christmas, Satan Claus, Santa Claws, The Gingerdead Man, and so many others that you would require a small nation's entire output of boxes and wrapping paper to slip them under the tree.

One of the most notorious of these titles is Silent Night, Deadly Night, the poster for which caused a national uproar as anxious mothers picketed and petitioned against its depiction of Santa Claus as an axe murderer. The upset was so thorough that Siskel and Ebert (who never shied away from declaiming splatter movies like a pair of tetchy schoolmarms) publicly shamed the crew by name on their show. After only two weeks, the film was pulled from theaters and thus a legend was born.

Obviously, those of us in the horror community will vehemently seek out any film decried in the public media, pushing implacably forward like the Terminator until we finally have a chance to view it. The thing about Silent Night, Deadly Night that sets it apart from many other shamed fright flicks is that it's actually pretty decent. It's by no means the best slasher ever made. It's not even the best slasher released on that day. But it's a gruesome holiday treat that, while it can be a tad mean-spirited from time to time, embraces the humor and fun present in the scenario and mixes it with some surprisingly affecting shocks.

Also the angry moms let the psycho santa flicks To All a Goodnight and Christmas Evil slip right by them four years previously, so let us never say that angry reactionaries are accurate and rational human beings.

The tale of Silent Night, Deadly Night begins with an extended, bifurcate prologue depicting the development of a young boy named Billy (played by Jonathon Best at Age 5, Danny Wagner at Age 8, and Robert Brian Wilson for the remainder of the film) and his fear of Christmas. After an ominous warning from his comatose grandfather (Will Hare) on Christmas Eve, Billy watches as his parents are brutally murdered by a robber dressed as Santa Claus. He and his little brother Ricky (Alex Burton) are then sent to an orphanage run by nuns, where Mother Superior (Lilyan Chauvin) teaches Billy all about the consequences of premarital sex and the value of punishment.

Billy thus grows up believing Santa Claus to be some sort of avenging angel, punishing the naughty with swift and brutal death. When he turns 18, the kindly Sister Margaret (Gilmer McCormick) helps him get a job as a stock boy at a toy store run by Mr. Sims (Britt Leach) and Mrs. Randall (Nancy Borgenicht of Halloween 4). He nurses a crush on pretty cashier Pamela (Toni Nero) and reluctantly works alongside the foulmouthed, penis-peddling Andy (Randy Stumpf). When the guy they hired to be Santa during the Christmas season calls in sick, Billy is chosen to don the outfit on Christmas Eve and after a couple drinks and a little provocation in the form of Andy nearly raping Pamela in the back room, Billy finds his personality completely subsumed by Santa's and goes on a merry killing spree.

As he wanders around the town murdering the naughty, Sister Margaret and Officer Barnes (Max Robinson of Halloween 5) attempt to track him down and protect Mother Superior and the kids at the orphanage. That's quite a lot to chew on for a 79-minute film, so for that reason the whole thing adopts a brisk pace that never lets up, save for the very end.

How is it possible to be bored with so many bosoms and axes afoot?

There's only one resolutely Christmasy death (Andy is hung with a string of lights), but in every set the halls are decked with holiday cheer, providing an ironic twinkling backdrop for the fairly decent slasher mayhem. At least in the unrated cut, there's plenty of drippy blood and unnecessary topless scenes to keep the slasher engine running well into the night until not a creature is stirring.

The cheesy music (although all the songs are Christmas-themed, the 80's can't resist poking its head in and the arrangements sound anywhere between the Cheers theme song and what can only be described as reggae electrosynth caroling) and the flop-sweaty exploitation (there's more boobs in this film than wreaths, and we're delivered this cheerily inane line as a couple makes out on a pool table: "2 ball in corner pocket.") are enough to keep spirits high, but it must be said that some scenes are a little tough to stomach.

Although thankfully no rape occurs during the course of the film, there are several protracted scenes that, if allowed to continue, would have gone all the way. Plotwise, this is ostensibly to trigger Billy's buried memories, but moviewise, it leaves a layer of grime caked over the whole thing that isn't entirely eradicable. But there are enough gritty or tense moments that play in that register and succeed (the robber Santa, for one, and the grandfather's stern admonition) that it evens out the rougher ones and allows Silent Night, Deadly Night to tend to be more frightening than the average slasher flick.

And who doesn't love creepy nuns?

The mostly smooth pacing gets a little wonky when the third act culminates in a race-to-save-the-day police thriller atmosphere, but it's still got plenty of camp involved that keeps interest up. One of Billy's favorite activities is to leap out of nowhere and scream "PUNISH!" while brandishing an axe, and if that's not the funnest thing to watch even 45 minutes later, maybe this film isn't for you.

Silent Night, Deadly Night is unique because of its in-depth look into the mind of a slasher villain, justifying his fervent opposition to promiscuity (because, let's face it, Jason and Michael might as well be the Virginity Police) and even grounding the campy Santa costume in some semblance of psychological reality. This is the most thoroughly thought-out holiday horror vehicle of the decade, and the fact that it is capable of giving the jitters is just one huge stocking stuffer.

There's no traditional Final Girl, mask, or filmic structure, but Silent Night, Deadly Night is a slasher for the ages. Its nastiness and uneven quality prevents me from unconditionally loving the thing, but when you're penning your letter to Old Saint Nick, it might do you well to include this DVD on your list if you're so inclined.

Killer: Billy Chapman (Robert Brian Wilson)

Final Girl: Sister Margaret (Gilmer McCormick)

Best Kill: Classic Scream Queen Linnea Quigley is impaled on one of those wall-mounted deer heads. Topless, because that's how the 80's worked.

Sign of the Times: Young Billy is punished with a truly unfortunate mullet.

Scariest Moment: Billy's catatonic grandfather bursts to life when they're alone together and warns him about the dangers of Santa Claus before laughing hysterically and slipping back into his stupor.

Weirdest Moment: When he meets a little girl who has done nothing naughty, Billy rewards her with a bloody box cutter.

Champion Dialogue: "Are you having a religious experience or did you pee your pants?"

Body Count: 13; not counting a snowman that gets decapitated.

1. Convenience Store Clerk is shot to death.
2. Jim Chapman is shot to death. 
3. Ellie Chapman has her throat slit.
4. Andy is hung with Christmas lights.
5. Pamela is gutted with a box cutter.
6. Sims is hit in the head with the back of a claw hammer.
7. Mrs. Randall is shot in the back with a bow and arrow.
8. Denise is impaled on deer antlers.
9. Tommy is thrown through a window and impaled on the glass.
10. Mac is beheaded with an axe while sledding.
11. Father O'Brien is shot to death.
12. Officer Barnes is axed in the chest.
13. Billy is shot to death. 

TL;DR: Silent Night, Deadly Night is uneven and a little nasty, but it's a fun slasher with a heaping helping of Christmas cheer.

Rating: 7/10

Word Count: 1403

Reviews In This Series

Silent Night, Deadly Night (Sellier Jr., 1984)

Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2 (Harry, 1987)

Silent Night, Deadly Night III: Better Watch Out! (Hellman, 1989)

Silent Night, Deadly Night IV: Initiation (Yuzna, 1990)

Silent Night, Deadly Night V: The Toy Maker (Kitrosser, 1991)

Silent Night (Miller, 2012)

Labor Pains

Year: 2007

Director: Alexandre Bustillo & Julien Maury

Cast: Alysson Paradis, Béatrice Dalle, François-Régis Marchasson

Run Time: 1 hour 22 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

Because Sergio is awesome, he knew that a French horror film would be a great Christmas gift for Yours Truly, but he had no idea how serendipitous the decision to toss Inside into the package was. You see, the movie is set on Christmas Eve! What a world. So please, sit down, and enjoy my first horror-tinged offering for the holiday season.

Inside (aka À l'intérieur) is a late example of the French Extremism genre, a group of turn-of-the-century films that operate on the foundation of large scale gore and body trauma. However, like its sister films Martyrs and Haute tension, Inside is not without a solid emotional core and has high-caliber filmmaking at its disposal. It's like ever since the New Wave in the 1960's, France's filmmakers mutually decided that they should be better than everybody else at anything they ever did from then on.

Scissors = France. Wall = Hollywood.

It's true that the story and characters are shallow in relation to the deep pool of gore present in the film. It's true that the overlarge cast of players on hand to provide said gore trip up the pacing and believability, especially in the second act. It's true that the film opens on its worst moment - an off-putting CGI approximation of a fetus in a womb. But Inside is crafted with such skill that the flaws don't even register when it takes you on its thrill ride.

Inside is a film about - you guessed it - the insides of things. Its lead character, Sarah (Alysson Paradis), is nine months pregnant and many moments are viewed from her baby's perspective. Inside her womb. Her husband died in a car crash and she is struggling to suppress her grief. Inside her mind. When trouble is a foot, she locks herself away. Inside her bathroom. And when a mysterious woman (Béatrice Dalle) appears the night before the baby is due, she seems dead set on making sure that Sarah's insides become her outsides.

The plot is simple. Sarah wants to survive. The woman that has slipped into her home uninvited wants to stab the crap out of her and scoop out that baby if she can. Family members, coworkers, and policemen may come and go (mostly violently) from the house, but nothing will stop her from pursuing her bloodthirsty quest.

She also moonlights as an interior decorator.

One of the most important elements in Inside is its strong female presence. We can hem and we can haw about the societal construction of gender and that our biological sex doesn't define us. This is all valid and this is all true. But the fact remains that childbirth is the sole domain of the biologically female, and that intimate, inimitable blood link between a mother and her child is the taut rope that the rest of the film hangs on. Both protagonist and antagonist are connected with this link in one way or another and are prepared to fight for it by the skin of their teeth.

As their game of cat-and-mouse continues throughout the film, the fountain of blood and grue satisfies the gorehounds in the audience (and if you're not one, beware) but it also forges a vast web of powerful symbolism. Also it's frickin' awesome, but I'm pretending to be professional over here. There's waterfalls of blood in this film, coming from just about every implement and direction the comfortably macabre mind can imagine. There's probably more blood in Inside than is contained in the bodies of every person in France combined.

The gore is exquisitely crafted, the cinematography is dusky and pristine, and the score shifts effortlessly from lush, swelling romanticism to staccato aural assaults. The middle third has a tad too many characters shuffling in and out like a grim-faced Noises Off, and the characters exhibit universally lousy decision-making, but it's all in service of an exuberant non-stop thrill ride that frightens just as well as it shocks and titillates.

Some might say this hideout is like a womb of her own. Others might push that person down on the playground.

The film is fraught with tension and the interplay between the taut editing and moody cinematography dredge out every chill from your spine. But the overwhelming sense one gets from the film is just how woefully pretty it is. Even a shot of glass cracking is imbued with an otherworldly sheen that aesthetically pleases as much as it psychologically torments. 

And the costume design! Oh, the costume design! The madwoman is cloaked in a billowing black dress that calls to mind the Angel of Death, swooping and flowing with her every movement and counterbalancing her bold brutality with delicate, airy movement. It's the single most perfectly simple costume I've ever seen in a feature film.

And I've gone off on the dress again. Perhaps it's time to wrap this up. Inside is one of those indelibly French films that plucks at the audience's strings like a finely tuned harp. It's fresh, fearless, gleefully grim, and absolutely a blast. It's creepy, gooey, gorgeous, and just about everything that makes a horror fan squeal.

The tone is a bit bleak, the characters are a bit shallow, and the CGI fetus checks in from time to time to remind everyone exactly how weird it looks, but overall, Inside is an unforgettable piece of bloody good cinema with a ropy, dynamic pace and expertly crafted mayhem.

TL;DR: Inside is a little shallow, but provides a tense, dynamic, waterfall of gory good fun.

Rating: 8/10
Word Count: 945

The Sony Will Come Out Tomorrow

As I'm sure you've all heard by now, on November 24th, the Sony computer system was infiltrated by hackers calling themselves "Guardians of the Peace." On the 27th, five new films were leaked online, including the upcoming holiday epic Annie. Also leaked were the films Mr. Turner, Still Alice, and To Write Love on Her Arms, which, let's face it, weren't exactly a big loss. Personal information, including passports and visas of several Sony stars was also compromised, and workers at Sony received personal threats of violence if they didn't sign a statement repudiating the company.

As personal emails from the Sony system began to be leaked, gossip columnists took charge of the hack coverage, diverting attention from the real problem. But all that changed on December 16th when the hackers (or somebody masquerading as them and jumping onto the breached system) demanded that the upcoming film The Interview be pulled from distribution, threatening acts of terror upon cinemas that screened the movie on Christmas day.

The Interview's plot revolves around two celebrity journalists played by Seth Rogen and James Franco being sent to North Korea to assassinate Kim Jong-un, leading to speculation that the hack was perpetrated on behalf of the North Korean despot. Two days ago, after many theaters backed out of distribution, Sony decided to pull the release of The Interview entirely. This led to a social media furor, but seeing as Twitter explodes with rage at just about everything from Kim Kardashian's butt to the new episode of Teen Mom, this was to be expected. At least, for once, it's about something actually important.

People are arguing that Sony's decision is undermining the American right to free speech and that by letting the hackers succeed, we're merely inviting more attacks against just about any movie that anybody doesn't like. Which categorically includes just about every film ever released except possibly The Oogieloves in the Big Balloon Adventure.

But what kind of world would that be?

There is a lot of validity to their arguments. But while Sony's decision is politically shaky, it's largely financially and socially sound. Although the threats may have never come to fruition, people would have been afraid to go to the movies on Christmas, one of the biggest days for the cinema. Not only would the skittish have avoided The Interview, they would have steered clear of theaters in general, for fear of being caught in the crossfire, damaging the box office receipts of every other film released that day as well.

It's not like box office is the most important thing in the world, but the pressure on Sony is almost unbearable to think about. Their response is regrettable but perfectly understandable. And after the events at the Dark Knight Rises screening in Aurora, people don't need another reason to be afraid of leaving their homes to go catch a movie. Plus, the buzz around The Interview by supporters of satire and free speech alike will ensure a plentiful box office when it is eventually, inevitably released somewhere down the road.

That is about the extent of an argument that I am suitably informed to make on the subject, but I would like to use my significantly larger entertainment industry prowess to further an argument that - while certainly less socially significant than the free speech vs. cyber terrorism debate - has likewise been weighing on my mind.

In the whirl and fervor of coverage about The Interview, many apologies and defenses have been made to and for James Franco, Seth Rogen, and Evan Goldberg. But there is one person the mainstream media has been ignoring, largely because his presence is more symbolic as a catalyst than as a human being: Randall Park, the actor who plays Kim Jong-un himself.

Oh yeah, that guy.

From the coverage I've read, the North Korean leader might as well have been playing himself in the movie for all the attention payed to this particular part. It makes sense why he has been overlooked. Park isn't exactly a celebrity of Seth Rogen/James Franco wattage. But the Korean-American actor (who has been working dutifully in Hollywood for some time now) was on the cusp of his big break, only to have it ripped away. Hopefully the buzz this film ignited will do the same for his career as it will likely do for ticket sales, but for the time being the unfortunate man is in limbo yet again.

Forgive my name dropping, but I had the opportunity to meet Randall Park when I was working as a PA on the web series Awesome Asian Bad Guys, and he was one of the nicest, most respectful actors I've ever had the opportunity to work with. He's a down-to-earth guy with huge dedication and real talent. Even in minor roles, he throws his all into his performance, dragging laughter from the audience like an expert angler with a fish hook.

The Hollywood system is tough to navigate for Asian-American actors, but he's worked his way through a series of scene-stealing small parts in The Office (as Asian Jim) and films like Dinner for Schmucks, Larry Crowne, Sex Tape, They Came Together, and Neighbors. This year he's finally been given a chance to show off his comic talents on a broader arena with The Interview and the upcoming TV series Fresh Off the Boat.

And while I have the utmost faith in his skills and ability to endear himself to popular audiences, it's a real shame that this had to happen to one of the biggest movies in his career, especially with a role he performed so indelibly, Evan Goldberg himself said, "He was the only person we auditioned or discussed. He just delivered." Randall Park is a man to watch out for. His star has been rising imperceptibly but implacably over the last few years, and he's about to shoot into the sky. It couldn't happen to a better man.

Or a man with cooler glasses.

While my opinion on Sony pulling distribution of The Interview remains unchanged, so has my opinion on Randall Park. So here's my advice to you. Go to his IMDb page. Look through his surprisingly dense list of successful, high quality movies. And in between your seasonal screenings of Team America: World Police and It's a Wonderful Life, please make room for a Randall Park somewhere in your viewing schedule. I promise you it'll be worth it.
Word Count: 1069

A Real Stand-Up Guy

Year: 2014

Director: Chris Rock

Cast: Chris Rock, Rosario Dawson, Gabrielle Union

Run Time: 1 hour 42 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

With the cinema of diversity, there's always a line being toed. Top Five is part of a massively important movement in fringe Hollywood, allowing non-white performers to take major positions in front of and behind the camera. Their continued success is vital in paving the way for change in a rigidly biased economic and artistic system. That said, anybody of any race can make a film with wan comedy, meandering storylines, and an unskilled aesthetic, and that is unfortunately exactly what has happened here.

When your film literally opens with outtake footage, it's hard to care a tremendous amount about the structure of the rest of it.

Chris Rock's third directorial feature stars himself as Andre Allen, a washed-up comedian and recovering alcoholic who is struggling to turn his wacky film career in a more serious direction. His impending wedding to reality star Erica Long (Gabrielle Union) is weighing on him, as an eternal commitment to a shallow materialist broadcast nationwide is wont to do. When he is paired up with Chelsea Brown (Rosario Dawson), a reporter with a heart of gold, they stroll around the New York streets together experiencing a series of comic-lite vignettes while she interviews him about his his career hopes, dreams, and fears.

Throughout their day together, Chelsea and Andre learn a lot about each other and their relationship deepens as they visit a series of cameos who pop in and out for a scene or two. There is the constant looming threat of the wedding two days from now and the bachelor party that night, but other than that there is next to no narrative drive at all. It's the Once of ensemble comedies.

It's perfectly fine for movies to be in this more relaxed register (read: Once), but the largely improvisational structure of Top Five leads to some jarring continuity in the editing, and the film as a whole really isn't funny enough to sustain the format for longer than ten minutes at a time. There are some pristine moments to be sure, including a series of interviews, a couple fantastic stars playing themselves, and any moment where Rock is actually allowed near a comedy stage, but the rest is tepid, blah, or grossly prejudiced.

You mean a movie about vapid reality stars, hoes, and closeted gays who just crave a good fingerbang is misogynistic and homophobic? What?

When it's not being actively gross or offensive (J. B. Smoove plays a character whose entire personality is based around him aggressively catcalling overweight women), it's indulging in underwhelming chatter between actors who have admittedly solid chemistry, but nothing much of interest to say. Most of these guest players are other stand-up comedians taking day trips to the set, with varying degrees of success.

Sherri Shepherd and Leslie Jones shine in brief roles, but Tracy Morgan looks like he's so bored, he decided to astrally project his consciousness to a theme park while he recited his lines. The leads are similarly mismatched. Rosario Dawson keeps the reality of the film in check with a solid, down-to-earth performance, but Chris Rock turns in a piece of work that I can only assume stems from a family crest that reads "When in doubt, bug out your eyes and shriek."

He settles into his role by the halfway point, as does the cinematography (which up until this point, leans heavily on a quasi-documentary handheld aesthetic that looks more like reality TV by way of the SyFy network), and the movie is generally more enthusiastic about its characters from that point on, but it's a slog to get there.

At least we can gaze upon Dawson's rad as hell haircut during the slower moments.

Perhaps one of the most inhibiting elements of the film is the score. When it's not endlessly repeating co-producers Jay-Z and Kanye West's single "N*ggas in Paris" like a surly white teen with tattoos on his knuckles is in charge of the jukebox, it's bleating music that wouldn't be out of place in a hotel elevator. I'm pretty sure I was put on hold to one of the songs when I called Jamba Juice customer service (don't ask). It reduces the tone of the whole thing to that of a crackerjack commercial.

It's a pleasant enough film to watch, but it's utterly inconsequential. The narrative beats are relentlessly predictable, nothing of much import happens, nothing of much humor is said, and even the title is halfhearted. "Top five" refers to a game Andre and his friends play in which they list their five favorite rappers. I imagine this particular diversion gets old after the first round, and it's a lackluster choice for the film's namesake.

Although perhaps it's perfect, because the film as a whole is pretty lackluster too.

TL;DR: Top Five is underwhelming, dull, and occasionally offensive, though it's not grating to watch.

Rating: 5/10

Should I Spend Money On This? I'd think not.

Word Count: 843