By DR. BENNY GRAVES
Starring Riley Dandy, Sam Delich and Jeff Daniel Phillips
Written and directed by Joe Begos
Shudder
Look, I’m not here to tell you that the true horror of Christmas is consumerism or weaponizing religion or any of that other obvious stuff. You know all that already if you’ve got enough jingle bells rocking in that precocious little skull. I’m also not here to say that we don’t have enough A+ Xmas horror flicks. Black Christmas (The OG, though I have a soft spot for the eye-gouge-loving remake) decimates most of the competition. What Bob Clark’s beautiful, dread-soaked classic lacks in schlock and awe is well covered by Don’t Open Till Christmas, Christmas Evil, Silent Night Deadly Night and (After a few extra merry nogs) Jack Frost. However, I do lament that there aren’t enough Christmas horror movies about people like us. Of course, I’m talking about horror and heavy metal degenerates – folks whose holiday soundtrack is “No More Presents” by King Diamond (second place goes to “Christmas With The Devil” by Spinal Tap) who recognize the feral pleasure of swigging bourbon out of a bottle in the falling snow. Forget frankincense and myrrh, we’re the crowd looking for Frankenstein and Sammy Curr. (Okay. I’ll workshop it) Our dark prayers were answered in 2022 when director Joe Begos sent us a savior in the form of an evil cyborg Santa. You’re either fully on board with this CHRISTMAS BLOODY CHRISTMAS in the first five minutes or you are not fit to ride in this one-horse abattoir with yours truly.
We are introduced to the world of the movie via a series of ads that feel like an homage to the TV vignettes in Paul Verhoeven’s Robocop. Along with commercials featuring bourbon for the whole family and a shredding St. Nick, we get an ad about military-grade cyborgs repurposed into benign, interactive Robo-Santas. What could go wrong?! Cut to Christmas Eve and record store owner Tori (Riley Dandy) is wrapping up her work day. When we first see her, she’s smoking a joint and wearing a jacket emblazoned with Cathy’s Curse and RidingEasy Records patches. She has a Spookies poster in her store and wears a Scream Bloody Gore T-shirt. (I’m in love.) Obviously, Tori is not looking for a life-changing romance or a new lease on the Christmas spirit this holiday season. She just wants to get drunk and get laid. Unfortunately for Tori, a cyborg Santa has been installed at the toy store where her pals work. A glitch in programming reverts the initiative for dreams of sugarplums to its original directive of sinister slaughter. It comes down to Tori to face off against the relentless violence of this mechanized Santa and its coal-black robot-heart.
After my first watch, CHRISTMAS BLOODY CHRISTMAS immediately became a part of my annual holiday watchlist. (Snag the Blu-ray or check it out on Shudder). The first half of the movie feels like a hang-out flick in the best way. Begos nails the banter between Tori and her friend, whether they’re shitting on each other’s musical taste or shitting on each other’s movie taste. I’ve heard criticism that no one talks like these characters. All of my friends talk like this, and I’m sorry your social interactions are so criminally boring. We truly grow to like Tori and company, which makes the threat of the robotic killer all the more potent.
Robo-Santa wastes no time in amassing a body count, turning human flesh into playdough with mechanical viciousness. The execution of these kills is done predominantly with practical effects, which always warms my heart. Santa’s also been designed to take some serious damage and Tori more than earns her Ripley/Sarah Connor stripes before the credits roll.
Bego’s visual style works wonderfully. His neon-and-day-glo-soaked winter wonderland makes for some fantastic set pieces. Lest I forget, there’s also a title track by Deth Crux that sounds like The Sisters of Mercy’s answer to “Santa Baby.” So spike that eggnog, roll an electric coffin nail, crank the devil music and hang the mistletoe… This one’s for you animals.
Death to False Horror,
Dr. Benny Graves
