Black Christmas (1974)
Dir. Bob Clark
Scr. A. Roy Moore
Starring: Olivia Hussey, Keir Dullea, Margot Kidder,
Andrea Martin, Marian Waldman, John Saxon, Doug McGrath,
Lynne Griffin, Art Hindle, Les Carlson, Nick Mancuso
Review By Greg Klymkiw
A lone figure stumbles through the snowy bushes surrounding a gorgeous old mansion. He's breathing heavily. We only see what he sees, we do not see him. Through his POV we see warm light pouring out of the windows and the sparkle of Christmas lights. As he gets closer to the house, his breathing becomes more heightened as he looks into the windows and spies a bevy of young beauties. He passes by a sign noting that the old manse is a sorority house. He then begins the arduous task of climbing up the wall and eventually into a remote attic.
Bad shit is going to happen.
Now if the aforementioned seems familiar to you, it should. It's the opening few minutes of Black Christmas, but most of all, it's an approach to horror film malevolence that's been used ad nauseam by virtually every slasher picture ever made. The whole killer POV thing was first popularized in North America by Bob Clark's Yuletide Horror Classic and if you first saw it in 1974 like I did, you'd be jaw agape at its original creepiness (unless you, like Clark, had been a giallo fan and seen a whole whack of Bava and Argento pictures by that point).
But that, frankly, isn't the only original, terrifying and brilliant ingredient of terror in the picture. Working from a layered and beautifully written screenplay by A. Roy Moore, Clark fashioned a horror movie that's as kick-ass scary as it was then and aside from a few elements ripped-off by subsequent films, Black Christmas is replete with all sorts of superb touches that most horror films made afterwards can only dream of.
In spite of the raft of pictures in North America that were influenced by Black Christmas, it still feels like it hasn't dated. Sure, there are obvious elements that could only have existed in the 70s and don't exist now (rotary dial telephones, the insane methods of tracing calls in the "old days", clothing and hair styles which, frankly, have come and gone so many times, they feel contemporary, etc.), but the fact remains that Clark's directorial style and the clever touches in the script are only of their time in so far as they feel ahead of their time. In terms of contemporary filmmaking, the style and craft is miles ahead of most genre pictures being made now. Hell, I'd argue it feels like a contemporary picture that's also a period picture.
Right from the start, scribe Moore quickly lets us know that someone is living in an attic which hasn't been entered in a long time. In fact, it's either been long forgotten or isn't even known about. Ah, but the lovely young ladies downstairs in the sumptuous, comfortable sorority house living room know nothing about malevolence - never mind the evil which lurks within their home and hearth away from home.
They're busily preparing for Christmas celebrations in the sleepy college town which include dolling the sorority house up for the party they're going to be hosting for orphans, making last minute travel preparations to go home for the holidays, giving their den mother a sexy gift and dealing with the men in their lives.
Moore's writing is exceptional throughout, but especially in establishing full-blooded characters - most of whom we're going to care about, and one of whom will be a fairly convincing red herring.
Then the phone calls begin. The girls have received them before. This time, the calls appear to be far more disturbing than they ever have been. The language and threats are so extreme that these days, many audiences would be as shocked as they were in the 70s, but I'd argue even more so since most English language films made now would never utilize such violent language so grotesquely and effectively.
Then the murders begin. The first killing is so shocking we can't quite believe our eyes - especially considering who gets killed. Hitchcock did this in Psycho, but at least his first victim was seen lolling half naked in the sack and was an embezzler to boot - not so here.
The killings become so vicious, the scares so intense that we're clutching our armrests or biting our nails with such horror that we could even injure ourselves (biting down to the cuticles and ripping away the fleshy bits on each side of the fingernails HURTS LIKE HELL). Amidst the chills and kills, Moore and Clark never forget the human factor nor the dramatic resonance the characters bring to the proceedings.
Delightfully, they also know the importance of how humour must be wended throughout - nothing tongue in cheek, but all connected to character and situation. Marian Waldman as the den mother with a taste for the sauce, Margot Kidder as a delectably foul mouthed heroine and Doug McGrath as the straight-faced dimwit police sergeant who comes across like a perverse cross between Buster Keaton and Don Knotts' Barney Fife, all contribute to some genuine knee-slappers.
In spite of stupid American flags everywhere to make the film more commercial, the atmosphere of the film is quintessentially Canadian - everything from the snow, the parkas, the boots, the toques, the scarves, the actual breath pouring out of peoples' mouths like clouds of smoke and the strange amalgam of WASP primness and hoser gaucherie. One harrowing sequence involves the whole college town engaged in a massive hunt for a missing girl in the bitter cold. This is imbued with that stalwart Canadian sense of commitment in the face of all the elements. A Canadian knows that no matter how cold it is, you just bundle up, eh.
There are a couple of logic lapses, of course, but you don't really begin to notice them until after you watch the movie and even then, after subsequent viewings, the movie is so wonderful you begin to supply your own explanations. My own, of course, seem perfectly valid to me.
And then, there is the killer, Billy. That's all we know or even need to know. We never see him, save for his murderous hands, we only hear him when he's breathing or making obscene phone calls and maybe, just maybe Clark reveals a teasing element or two which chill to the bone. Billy is a serial killer who puts Jason, Freddy and Michael to shame. We know what their respective beefs are, but with Billy, all we know is that he wants to kill. Somehow that's a lot more scary than the silly back-stories given to all the slashers who followed.
Black Christmas is not only a GREAT horror picture, but most significantly, you'll leave the cinema with a whole new appreciation for the word "fellatio". That, my friends, is worth its weight in gold.
THE FILM CORNER RATING: **** 4-Stars
Black Christmas is available in an exclusive new "Season's Grievings" 40th anniversary Blu-Ray/DVD from Anchor Bay Entertainment Canada. In addition to a gorgeous transfer which accentuates all the glorious 70s grain and garish colours (but sadly bereft of the great mono mix, replaced here with a ho-hum 5.! mix), the edition is bursting at the seems with extras. The all-new extras including a superb new documentary Black Christmas Legacy directed by George Mihalka (My Bloody Valentine) and Justin McConnell, the 40th Anniversary Panel at Fan Expo 2015 featuring John Saxon, Art Hindle, Lynne Griffin & Nick Mancuso, a hilarious Commentary Track dubbed Billy Is Watching (featuring Nick Mancuso, the original voice of Billy) and exclusive to the Blu-Ray is a terrific Black Christmas Retrospective Booklet created by Rue Morgue Magazine. The other extras have been ported over from the previous edition and include 12 Days of Black Christmas doc, Black Christmas Revisited doc, Interviews with Olivia Hussey, Art Hindle, Margot Kidder, Bob Clark and John Saxon, a Midnight Screening Q&A with John Saxon, Bob Clark and Carl Zittrer, Two original scenes with a new vocal soundtrack, the Original Trailer, the Alternate Trailer, both Original English and French Trailers, Original TV and Radio Spots and Alternative Title Sequences.
In Toronto only Black Christmas plays Tuesday, December 15 at 9:00 PM (with Kier Dullea in person) at TIFF Bell Lightbox and Saturday, December 19 at 7:00 PM at the Royal Cinema with Lynne Griffin and Nick Mancuso.
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