18th December 2019
More than just a rehash of what worked 45 years ago, but the execution unfortunately feels lacking.
Despite preceding more recognisable slasher films and being one of the finest examples of the sub-genre, Bob Clark's Black Christmas remains (outside of horror circles) a bit of a niche entry into the genre. In a fair world, it would be beloved as widely as Halloween, Friday the 13th and other features with marketable icons that fans can dress up as on October 31st. It's a shame something so iconic and well-crafted isn't as known by the masses, but it was enough of an entity to get a 2000's remake (but then, so were plenty of other horror films). Over a decade on, it now joins a more selective club, in getting an additional update for more modern times.
As the holidays draw closer, Hawthorne College is quieting down, and many of the students are returning home. A group of young women left on campus find themselves stalked by an unknown stranger with murder on their mind. But this reinvention steps away from the shadowed figure hiding in the attic to have sorority sisters stalked by a more common threat; entitled white men.
One notable element in the 1974 original is how progressive it was, as the lead character came to blows with her boyfriend, adamant that she was going to have an abortion. While that topic remains a thorny one to this day, screenwriters Sophia Takal and April Wolfe are intent on tackling hot-button issues, such as rape culture, toxic masculinity, the problematic history of icons, and how people turn a blind eye to the horrors in front of them. There are good intentions in addressing these notable subjects, making this film more than just a rehash of what worked 45 years ago, but the execution unfortunately feels lacking. It's worth noting there's a musical sequence which works, bursting full of life and plays out as a much-needed moment of catharsis, but it's saddening scenes like this couldn't land more often through the 92-minute runtime.
No matter which version of Black Christmas you watch, one key aspect is the core friendships of these sorority sisters. The original managed to define each vital character and sell their relationships, through the briefest of interactions, the smallest of moments, and those subtly effective points are missed here. The film is happy to say who these characters are, and what their friendships are like, but we're missing the time taken to actually show them. Thank goodness for Imogen Poots, a bright spot that truly comes alive as Riley, the lead character that's a deserved successor to the original's Jess. She's a victim whose sexual assault was disbelieved by many, still struggling to move forward and speak up for herself. Poots sells the trauma through the smallest of moments, while making her characters journey feel completely natural.
Upon hearing the news this film would be rated PG-13, many reacted unfavourably to the very idea. This isn't fair, as a more accessible rating isn't a measurement of how frightening a film is, and I would maintain that the PG rated Coraline is more terrifying than any of the 18 rated entries into the Saw franchise. Sadly, there's some jarring edits noticeable throughout, which appear to be the work of cutting around gory elements made with a higher rating in mind. As a result, you're left unsure what's actually happened in some scenes, and are none the wiser about some characters fates. Despite a nod to Exorcist III, these evident edits really take you out of the picture and won't make your skin crawl.
Now, I acknowledge that this is review is written by a man, about a film made about women, written and directed by women. If this film resonates with their target audiences, then it's worth it, because this feels like the creators poured their rage about misogynistic injustices of the world into their feature. The filmmakers were mad as hell, and this film is their cry to not take this anymore. There was real potential in this product, and I just think audiences deserved better than what came to screen.
Just don't watch the trailer.