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TIE-IN ME UP, TIE-IN ME DOWN: The “SILENT NIGHT, DEADLY NIGHT” Novelization Is A Bloody Gift Worth Unwrapping

Saturday, January 13, 2024 | Books, Reviews, Tie-In Me Up Tie-In Me Down

(Editor’s note: Tie-in novelizations were once a staple of horror. Although not as prevalent today, these adaptations and expansions of popular (and some not-so-popular) fight flicks were common. However, thanks to bold publishers such as Stop the Killer Games, the tie-in novel is making a welcome comeback, allowing even classic cult films to get some long-overdue literary love. In his all-new column, cheekily titled “Tie-In Me Up, Tie-In Me Down,” writer Joel Harley reviews both classic and all-new movie tie-ins in all their wild and wonderful iterations.)

By JOEL HARLEY

“Christmas is the scariest damn night of the year.”

Published nearly 40 years after the film’s release, author Armando Muñoz delivers the gift of SILENT NIGHT, DEADLY NIGHT all over again with the long-awaited novelization of Charles E. Sellier Jr’s terrifying alternative Christmas classic. Published by Stop the Killer Games, which recently brought us the novelization of the 1981 cult classic slasher My Bloody Valentine, also penned by Muñoz, this novelization follows the structure and story of the film, working from the original screenplay by Michael Hickey. As such, it opens with the formative traumatization of young Billy Chapman – forced to watch as his parents are brutally murdered on Christmas Eve by a man dressed as Santa Claus. Billy and his infant brother, Ricky, wind up in an orphanage where the boy’s trauma is only compounded. As with the film, the book is in no hurry to get to Billy’s killing spree, and these background events remain the most compelling and original part of the story.

If anything, SILENT NIGHT, DEADLY NIGHT has aged like fine (mulled) wine, and Muñoz uses the distance between its 1970s/1980s setting to inform and comment on the plot, with 18-year-old Billy taking in a viewing of a Friday the 13th film before his murderous rampage and investing in his first VHS player (soon used to feed his ever-growing porn habit, which in turn feeds into inevitable Catholic guilt and self-loathing). 

This novelization may be faithful to the structure and story beats, but that’s not to say it’s a mere rehash of the film’s plot. Muñoz expands on the characters in a way that only well-written fiction can, providing intense new insight into the inner workings of Billy’s dad and grandpa, Sister Margaret, Mother Superior and more. Seemingly innocuous lines of dialogue from the movie take on all new meanings as the characters’ perverse inner thoughts are revealed.     

 Muñoz’s version of Sister Margaret – and what he decides to do with her – is the author’s most troubling invention. Readers will never look at the film’s Sister Margaret (nor a pair of socks) in quite the same way again. Concurrently, a strain of latent misogyny is explained in the depiction of the Chapman men. An early chapter on Billy’s grandpa (the funniest in the book, showcasing a pitch-black sense of humor that is never far from the surface) proves that  Muñoz’ has no intention of playing things safe. (Add a stick of peanut butter-coated celery to that list – along with the socks.)

Muñoz amps up the nihilism and turns in his own more bizarre take on the source material, leaving young Billy adrift in a world of misogynists, sadists and perverts. Even the more well-meaning characters aren’t innocent (or should we say, nice), and by the time the good and the kind do reveal themselves, it’s too late,  as Santa Billy can no longer tell the difference between naughty and nice. While Muñoz tends to overdo it, exaggerating Mother Superior’s monstrosity to the point of caricature for example, his excesses are all in service of the story, building towards Billy’s ultimate fate.

And the book never loses sympathy for Billy, capturing the systemic failure which betrayed him in a way that the film does not. From the inept police force to the abuses of the orphanage to the town-wide cover that followed his parents’ murder, Muñoz paints a portrait of Billy, the victim, never losing sight of the terrified little boy hiding in the bushes, even as he grows into an axe-wielding hulk.

One thing the 1984 film does better than any other Christmas horror film is how it highlights the time of year as not so merry and bright for all of us. If I may digress: My brother died during the Christmas season of 2009, a life-shattering event that had me feeling not-so-very-Christmassy for years to come. Every Christmas song, every cup of eggnog, every mince pie since brought those feelings crashing back home in the years that followed – emotions only compounded by a lengthy stint spent working in retail.

SILENT NIGHT, DEADLY NIGHT so perfectly captures how Christmas consumes all, no matter how you feel about it or try to shut it out and get on with your life. Bah, humbug.

And the book gets that, too, with Muñoz cannily using Billy’s stint at Ira’s Toys to explore the consumerism of the ’80s, transforming the town of Christmas Falls into something akin to Amity Island in Jaws, missing only a corrupt mayor who refuses to cancel Christmas despite the murderous shark (sorry, Santa Claus) tearing a bloody swathe through the environs.

“This was no longer Christmas Eve; This was Christmas the 13th.”

After such a colorful build-up, Billy’s killing spree is a little more by-the-numbers but no less entertaining. Muñoz really cuts loose with the gore, both in scenes familiar from the film and some invented for the book. In one of the book’s most compelling passages, his version of a meeting between Santa Billy and a young survivor is turned on its head. Each of Santa Billy’s kills is described in intimate detail, worthy of the queasy violence that made the film so controversial in the first place.

Even more troubling is the book’s explanation of Billy’s sexual hang-ups, which can be traced back to a strict Catholic upbringing and the traumatic memory of his mother’s sexual assault. Scenes such as the attack on his mother and a stockroom rape are vividly illustrated, revealing that, for Santa Billy, there is no distinction between consensual and not – there is only naughty without nuance. And that’s not to mention Muñoz’s additions to the lore, including a flinch-inducing finger in the bumhole, one character’s reinvention as a closeted groomer and that ending. Certainly, this novelization is not to all tastes, but its source material never was, either.

Armando Muñoz’s SILENT NIGHT, DEADLY NIGHT is a deliciously naughty take on a classic slasher film – a celebration and a reinvention in equal measure. Viewing the film after reading adds new dimensions to the story and characters (for better and worse), bringing it to life all over again.

Ultimately, Muñoz’s adaptation is a generous gift to fans of SILENT NIGHT, DEADLY NIGHT, and an example of the novelization at its most deliriously inventive.

For more information on SILENT NIGHT, DEADLY NIGHT, visit www.stopthekiller.com.

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