But, at the same time, Blumhouse did bring us Get Out in
2017 with Jordan Peele at the helm, and that film nails its political
points and received acclaim because of it, and that was a full-length
directorial debut. There are ways to get this right that this film has
apparently nailed so catastrophically that people are not only
highlighting how it stumbles from a feminist perspective, but also how
it apparently does a disservice to the #MeToo movement as well. What
went wrong? How could this all have gone so badly?
Then
I looked up the critical response to the initial 2006 remake, and
everything just seemed to make even more sense. It raises the question
of who thought this was a good idea in the first place, especially if
you were going to be experimenting with a feminist narrative that needed
to work to come close to pleasing audiences. This just seemed like a
bad idea from the start, but nobody told whoever originally conceived of
it to stop and reconsider. As such, Sophia Takal
was tasked with something that seems impossible from the outside
looking in. But I don’t entirely sympathise with her entirely. After
all, she did write the film too, and thus had some control over the
integration of the feminist elements of the narrative. Also, can you
tell I’m stalling and have been for the past three paragraphs? Okay
fine. Let’s get on with it. How’s the film?
Whoa. I’m honestly not sure what to make of this. And this is not a Midsommar case
where the film is just so fucked up that it demands attention
regardless. This is a rare one. A film crippled by one key flaw that
sees the whole thing hilariously unravel. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a
well-intentioned film like this as fundamentally misguided as this one.
And that aforementioned problem is subtlety. I don’t know who, but someone left it out. There is no subtlety in Black Christmas.
And while that might not be a problem in some cases, when a film is
trying to act as a feminist political commentary about sexual abuse, a
blunter script just makes the film feel horrendously one dimensional,
even more so than Last Christmas, a film I already didn’t like for its thin political stance.
But at least that film’s one dimensionality lead to some charming moments. Because, let’s not forget, Black Christmas is
a horror movie. And on that note, let me give the film the slightest
hint of credit: the horror sections are not terrible, with the first
death being easily the best moment of the film. It’s intense as the
character runs from door to door through thick snow, trying desperately
to find anyone who will help her, before being stabbed to death with an
icicle. Of course, while the drama might be all well and good, it’s all
undercut in the end anyway, in one of the most self-satisfied,
ungratifying and downright lazy ending to a film that I’ve ever had he misfortune of exposing myself to.
But
while that opening moment of horror might work in that moment. The rest
of the film is mostly set in dark halls. Fine, I can roll with that.
That is, if the horror wasn’t so slow. Yes, the acting might not be
consistent, but it’s not like the direction Sophia Takal
is giving them to work with is allowing them to properly emotive. I’m
sorry, but young women slowly plodding down a corridor as the editing
cuts between close ups and hazy wide shots is not intense in the
slightest.
Although,
I do kind of feel sorry for the actors for the script they were given.
Not only do a lot of the girls play to broad stereotypes, it doesn't
feel like there’s anything to the characters beyond just being toys for
the main antagonist, the protagonists sexually abusive ex (or they might
not have even been in a relationship at all I don’t know or care).
And
I suppose that takes us to our main theme: women and sexual abuse. And
to be brutally honest, I’m not sure anyone associated with this film
knows what either of those things are. Seriously. The first scene that
tackles the theme, four of the girls are scantily clad, dressed in Santa
costumes, and performing a cutesy dance on stage to an audience that
our antagonist is among. This just reads as a cutesy kiss-off rather
than anything of substance, a considerable problem when you consider the
theme in question is sexual assault. You really don’t want to be
accosting sexual abuse with the cutesiness of a scene like this.
Of
course, I’m not trying to suggest that it gets any better, or even
explores the theme any more than that. Sure, the current boyfriend of
one of the girls (I can’t remember names and can’t be bothered to look
them up) does get into an argument, suggesting that the main girl is
antagonising all men (something the film does more than the characters),
and there is that idea of the police not believing the girl who claimed
she had been sexually abused that is mentioned in one scene, but that’s
it. The film’s climax is more centred around the broader theme of
patriarchy rather than anything close to specific, and how some people
have fallen victim to the system, thinking that’s it’s just normal. And
this is where the fact that the film is devoid of all subtlety in the
writing comes through the most and hurts this film hard. The writing is
so declarative and devoid of metaphor that the antagonist comes across
as woefully pathetic in the film’s closing moments. Not helped by the
fact that all the girls magically come back to life anyway, and if no
one associated with this film cares about dramatic stakes, why should I
care about this film. The answer is I shouldn’t.
And speaking of those closing moments, our main character is staring at a burning building of their own doing. But in Midsommar,
that shot was haunting, highlighting the new beginning that lies ahead
for our protagonist; a literal burning away of what came before as she
finally finds her peace in the most unlikely of places. Black Christmas meanwhile
is not only the shallowest and most basic attempt at a political
commentary, it’s also the shallowest and basic attempt at a horror movie
I’ve ever seen. And in a year where I’ve learned to appreciate the art
of horror more than ever before, I can only hope and pray that it gets
forgotten. I thought Wild Rose had a lock on the worst film of the year title as the year neared its end. I might have been wrong after all.
3 / 10
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