All I Want For Christmas Is An End to the Patriarchy

Bob Clark's Black Christmas is a true genre classic, a film that I love more deeply every time I watch it. From the glory of buzzed Margot Kidder taking no crap to Olivia Hussey unapologetically planning an abortion, it's filled with wonderful women and some darn effective horror storytelling. 

It was remade as a fairly of-its-time hard-R in 2008, much to the outrage of the horror community and whaddya know! Nine years later, history repeated itself, only this time, there was an added political punch. Not only was this version made BY women, but it also had the nerve to empower them in a battle against the patriarchy.

Internet boys were mad.

Quick Plot: Welcome to Hawthorne College, a private 200 year old university with a problematic namesake and a very attractive student body.  We start just before the winter break, when sorority girl Lindsay is stabbed to death by a mysterious masked man wielding an icicle. 

The next day, Riley and her sisters begin receiving ominous text messages that seem like a bad prank. No one is surprised, since Riley had previously riled a fraternity's featthers when she accused its president of rape. Her sisters stood by her, while campus security brushed it under the rug. With the encouragement of her activist pal Kris, Riley decides to serve up some sweet vengeance by publicly calling out the college's rape culture via a Mean Girls-ish flirty Christmas number at the greek talent show.

Naturally, the boys don't take it very well, but are they angry enough to embark upon a winter break massacre? 

It's hard to go too deep into Black Christmas without giving away key plot points, so spoilers will follow. If you haven't seen the film, pause here and do so. Yes, I'm in the camp of celebrating this movie, both for its politics and execution. Say what you want: I liked it.

So obviously, yes, yes these spoiled rich white boys are murdering women who scare them because much like the Reptile Boy episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, their secret cult is founded on male toxicity. The metaphor isn't subtle, but hey...it's horror. 

Black Christmas marked the first time Blumhouse produced a female-directed horror film, something so ridiculous to have to write in 2020. Cowriters Sophia Takal (also directing) and April Wolfe clearly approached the material with ambitious goals about calling out the patriarchy and empowering women, and you know what? YES PLEASE.

Look, I know there are A LOT of horror fans, both male and female (but let's face it: mostly male) who despised 2019's Black Christmas. Most of them also hated the 2008 remake when it came out, even though they have no memory of that and will gleefully tell you how much better that version is than Takal's. 

Does Black Christmas have an agenda? Of course it does. The fact that our protagonists' most important weapon is often a set of car kids should tell you a lot, and if you don't understand, then aren't you lucky.

I loved watching this movie. I enjoyed its twists, cared deeply for its protagonists, and found myself generally both excited and involved. Its staging won't give me nightmares, but its Stepford Wives-ish undertones certainly will. 

Give me more movies like this. 

High Points

Imogen Poots brings such a strong, deep well to Riley, managing to project so much carefully buried trauma. The scene where she tries to ask the head of campus security for help while having to SMILE through battling off his accusations is something truly remarkable, and one that almost any woman watching is going to feel as a gut punch for every time she's had to make her point while keeping her rightful anger under the surface

Low Points

I have no issue with PG-13 horror (and in more recent years, have come to fully embrace it when done well) but I'll concede that some of the violence feels muted or cut in a way that does detract from its effectiveness

Lessons Learned

The only way to lose a Diva Cup is with abandon

Every holiday is for looking sexy

Topple all the statues

Rent/Bury/Buy

Is Black Christmas a great horror movie? No. Is it a clever, entertaining, and fresh take on the genre filled with good satire from the kind of voice we need more of? Absolutely. 

Crushing On Valentine's Day With LoLicia Silverstone

Sometimes, all it takes is one scene--nay, 11 seconds--to transform a film from forgettable to mind blowing. In support of this statement, I give you--minor spoilers--the climax of 1993’s The Crush:

Sold, right?

Quick Plot: A sometimes American-sounding Cary Elwes plays Nick, a researcher and hack writer for a tabloid who moves to a sunny town to rent a house from a well-off family that includes the precocious Adrienne, a 14-year old Lolita so aware of her Lolita-ness that she introduces herself in short denim jeans and an iconic sunglass tilt. 

Before you can say fatal attraction, Adrienne is seductively leaning on walls in a way that makes her Aerosmith video hair look positively scandalous, much to the discomfort of Nick as he tries to woo his coworker (Bad Dreams’ Jennifer Rubin) and keep his job. Also in the way is Amber Benson (yes, Willow’s girlfriend Tara) as a suspicious pal of Adrienne and Adrienne’s tough guy dad who establishes himself as a tough guy by there fact that he’s played by Kurtwood Smith.

Of course, the fact that dad Kurtwood Smith keeps a working carousel up in his attic hampers his badassness slightly, but without said carousel, we wouldn’t have the aforementioned amazing climax.

So really, how can you complain?

The Crush is a shining example of 90s era trash cinema, making up for its lack of gore by instead cramming in ickily inappropriate sleaze. This is the kind of movie that has a 14-year-old Silverstone explain why she doesn’t like carousels with the pointed line “I ride real horses now,” and note she says this to her dad and titular crush with all the subtlety of Nomi Malone at the gynecologist. 

High Points

In her film and Shortening debut, Silverstone shows plenty of moxie (plus a huge skill at flipping her hair and sulking)

Low Points

Look, I appreciate the Dread Pirate Roberts as much as any child of the ‘80s, but there’s virtually nothing about Nick to make for a good online dating profile, much less focus of obsession for a beautiful and talented teenager like Adrienne

Lessons Learned

Wasps are social AND territorial (come to think of it, so are WASPs)

In the 1990s, real men wore pink dress shirts

Classy barbeques involve marshmallows and wine

Rent/Bury/Buy

As 90s nostalgia gets tastier with age, The Crush is a film that can make you giggle based almost solely on its time stamp. Trashy as a PG13 rating can allow, the movie isn’t by any means good, but it embraces its ridiculousness all the way through its foreshadowed wasp attack and heavy carousel creepily circling in an attic with a pull-down ladder. And no, there is no explanation for how exactly one moves a working carousel into an attic with a pull-down ladder (perhaps it’s some sort of growable carousel?) but that in itself makes The Crush the cheese sandwich that can satisfy any craving.

Saw 7: The Better Not Be Final Chapter

I’ve gone on record more than once regarding my gooey affection for the Saw series. Sure, the story is more tangled than Natasha Lyonne’s hair, the gore grosser than Natasha Lyonne’s bathroom floor, and the acting often patcher than Natasha Lyonne in a mesh t-shirt, but darnit, these movies are fun. Blackened humor fun covered in guts, but fun nevertheless. Best of all, the films actually take place in their own genuine universe, a place rich in rusty bolts, sinners, old timesy tricycles, and characters that actually return 6 entries later.

Basically, if you ever want to pick a fight with me, insult Saw. Unless you’re limiting said attack to Part V, I will bury you.

It was a sunny Sunday morning when I decided an extra hour of Daylight Savings given sleep warranted a 10AM viewing of Saw 3D. Having seen all but Part 1 in the theater I knew I owed it to myself (and the producers) to pony up $10 and don those plastic glasses for what could potentially be “The Final Chapter” (cause that was so true for Jason).

To give some basis for my Saw stance, below is my summation on each film:

I. A pleasant surprise, despite its collection of terrible performances from somewhat to very respected actors (Elwes, Glover). Notable for, at the time, feeling incredibly fresh and refreshingly nihilistic.

II. Probably my favorite of the series, a tighter film that successfully amped up the gore and game. Lots of great deaths, two neat twists, and one Wahlberg.

III. Though a lot of fans cite this as the best, I enjoy it far less than most of the other movies. Two unlikable protagonists, an ending that takes away too many interesting characters too quickly, pig guts, shouting, general ugliness. Not my favorite.

IV. For some reason, I seem to be the only cheerleader for this entry, one that  (in my opinion) boasts the only sympathetic lead. Plus, Donnie Wahlberg’s head gets smashed and the Mandylor gets revealed for all his Costasness.

V. Shit. For so many reasons, shit. Does nothing but give Jill Tuck a box. The Fatal 5 feels like the first draft of Part II and worst of all, the lone survivor (Lions Gate slave Julie Benz) seems like a Jigsaw cohort, is never confirmed, then never seen again. Boo.

VI. The most pleasant prize of the bunch, a clever (if ham-fisted) attempt to say something about healthcare, with some of the best traps and biggest surprises. Read my full review here

So. Knowing that part VI director Kevin Greutert was returning (against his will, since his fingers were pried off the Paranormal Activity sequel by contractual obligations), I was pumped. What follows will reek of SPOILERS, but to those who may stop reading here, know that if you enjoyed any of the other Saws, you will probably love this one.

Quick Plot: Um. Quick?

I swear this gets harder with every sequel.

Okay, breaking it down:

1.Bobby is a self-help celebrity superstar who cashed in on surviving a Jigsaw trap. Problem is, he never actually went through a trap which naturally means he’ll be the next subject in Jigsaw’s friends-and-family game. Think of his thread as the timeframe device, complete with a ticking digital countdown clock that apparently the apprentices bought wholesale.

2. Jill has gone to the rat squad of the FBI (yes, I watch too much Law & Order: SVU) to finger Detective Hoffman as Jigsaw’s current working apprentice. Agent Gibson ( a hilariously southern Chad Donella) takes the case.

3.Hoffman, now scarred and still so jacked he can’t bend, orchestrates a few new side games targeting Neo-Nazis, Jill, and Gibson. It’s funny, because Costas Mandylor remains an increasingly hilarious presence. I just can’t believe this is an actual person.

What can one even say about the 7th Saw film? That it’s just as gory, perplexing, funny, and ridiculously as enjoyable as IV & VI? Take, for example, the simply amazing cameo by Scream Queens Season 1 champ Tanedra, who returns with one arm to scream at a Jigsaw Survivors Support Group (yes, that this group exists in itself is fabulous):

“The only good thing that came out of my experience is getting handicapped parking at the goddamned mall!”

Why was I the only one in my admittedly uncrowded theater laughing at that?

Other points of giddiness:

-The fact that FBI agents continue to enter the lairs of supergenius serial killers without calling backup

-The fact that none of the many agents killed last year by Hoffman thought to leave a post-it saying “Hoffman might be killer. Confronting him now. If I die, see other post-it” 

-The new lead FBI Agent and everything he did, including addressing Jill solely as “Crazy” and checking the tiny corner of a bathroom crime scene to see if Hoffman had been hiding there for the last seven hours

-Tobin Bell, in his signature flashback cameo, wearing a backwards baseball cap and dungarees. A BACKWARDS BASEBALL CAP!!!

-For whatever reason (I say that a lot with the Saw movies) there’s a Changeling-esqe wheelchair just hanging out in the lair and a random kill takes place in a garden gnome factory

Like every entry before it, Saw 3D has received its share of criticism. I can’t imagine why. Yes, it reuses a subplot we’ve seen in every film since part 3, but it also introduces new traps and expands the Saw universe in pretty neat ways. The idea that past survivors continue to exist in Saw’s chronology offers some good potential for future films (because we can all agree “The Final Chapter” is just something to say for theaters not showing it in 3D, right?) and also hits on one of the more interesting aspects of the Jigsaw’s nature. Ever since Amanda first uttered, through reverse bear trap scars, “He...helped...me,” there’s always been that curiosity of if and how his macabre lessons actually play out. Here, we get to see a few more.

Yup, Doct-ar Gord-on! (as I can only say in my best Michael Emerson shout) is back, sporting a few extra pounds, a mild limp, and the same lovably awful American accent we first heard seven (!!!) years ago. That in itself is a mild treat to Saw devotees.

What else can we ask for? A screaming and useless chick getting burned to death? Check. A smarmy self-help phony pulling out his molars and inserting hooks into his nipples? Done. It’s understandable that such things won’t make everybody happy. Just don’t insult the people that it does.

High Points

The film’s biggest group trap includes a speeding tire, arm ripoff, and skinhead superglued to his car. It’s lovely. Similarly, one trap involving a blinded character navigating an unfinished floor (while wearing a ready-to-activate noose) is surprisingly tense

Low Points

While the 3D seemed more relevant than something like Piranha or The Final Destination, it still didn’t quite meet my expectations. C’mon, Saw. You’re the granddaddy of Rube Goldbergian kill-traps for this generation. Couldn’t you find something else to throw at us than piles of intestines?

Lessons Learned

When being chased by a bloodthirsty sadist, hiding in an exposed little nook between book shelves with no weaponry isn’t really the best way to save your life

Carinal rule of horror continues: any female with a T-starting name will demonstrate slut tendencies. And die a fairly painful death (in this case, in front of hundreds of morning shoppers)

Matters of the FBI are best kept between agents. There’s absolutely no need to call more than two reinforcements in at any point, even if you happen to be tracking a serial killer with a larger body count than Jason Voorhees

It’s incredibly easy to tamper with FBI evidence, especially when it involves one of the biggest cases in criminal history

See/Skip/Sneak-In

Unless you’re packing your own glasses, you can’t really sneak in now can you? Good, because if you love the Saw franchise, you might as well drop a few bucks down and enjoy another round of ridiculous gutty fun. Have a few drinks first, gather up your friends, and settle in for some master lessons in smarm from the hopefully always employed Costas Mandylor.

The man deserves to sell his own wine. Or something that puts his face on a label. It's like a Guess Who character come to life!