During the early ’80s, the horror genre purged a slew of Christmas-themed takes on the holiday, many of which focused upon the character of Santa: Charles Sellier Jr.’s Silent Night, Deadly Night; Lewis Jackson’s You Better Watch Out; Edmund Purdom’s Don’t Open ’Til Christmas; and David Hess’s To All a Good Night. But how many of these are noteworthy outside of their seasonal relevance? More importantly, how many are entertaining, to say nothing of being actually good? For that particular answer, we must jump forward as well as backward to Bob Clark’s Black Christmas and Michael Cooney’s Jack Frost respectively. Now, granted, there are very, very few Christmas horror tales worth wasting one’s breath citing but, thankfully, not only does David Steiman give us another to add to the sparse X-mas list with Santa’s Slay, but he also issues us another great horror comedy to boot. How can you go wrong with a film which opens with Santa Claus, played by a Jewish wrestler, bludgeoning James Caan, Fran Drescher, and Chris Kattan right off the bat?
As for a plot summary, I’ll quote directly from the press package:
“It turns out that Santa Claus (WWE Superstar Bill Goldberg) is not really the sweet old fellow that we all know and love. In fact, he’s a devil and the only thing that’s kept his bad side in check was a bet he lost with an angel. After 1,000 years of playing nice, the bet is up and Santa is about to open up a can of holiday whoop-ass! The only glimmer of hope comes from an old man (Robert Culp) with a secret, his grandson (Douglas Smith) and his girlfriend (Emilie de Ravin, from TV’s Lost). Brace yourself for one really bad Santa, bent on spreading holiday fear!”
My question now stands: What’s not to love even before watching the film?
Hold it, wait, let’s pause for a second to excerpt the loving exchange between Caan’s character and Drescher’s prior to their demises before moving to the film proper:
Caan: Dear God, don’t let this bird [the turkey Drescher has cooked] taste like a shoe like it did last year. [He slaps his hand on the dehydrated turkey] Let it be tender and moist. Just for once.
Drescher: Yeah . . . moist. That would be nice. It’s called foreplay.
Caan: I don’t want to screw the bird. I wanna eat it.
Ahem . . . .
Okay, let’s begin with the grandson and girlfriend in question. Obviously, considering we’re dealing with a horror comedy, it’s not as simple as “grandson” and “girlfriend,” oh no, instead we have Smith (a young Brandon Frazer) playing 16 year-old Nicholas Yuleson and Ravin as his counterpart, Mary. Indeed, here we have Saint Nick and his little lady Mary in the flesh. Could we expect anything less from a film which makes Billy Bob Thornton’s character in Terry Zwigoff’s Bad Santa look downright jolly?
Predictably, Steiman and Co. leave no one-liner stone unturned. For instance, with the town upon which Santa descends being named “Hell Township,” the production gives way to a radio announcer (uncredited) stating that the current temperature is “near freezing in Hell” before we catch a fleeting glimpse of the police force’s slogan, which unabashedly reads “Crime Doesn’t Stand A Chance in Hell.” Granted, we have to dock a few points for the tad-too-hokey naming of a police sergeant “Dick Zucker” (Rick Ash), but we quickly catch back up to speed with the ingenious double entendre foreshadowing which takes place on the note that Culp’s character was once a Hell’s Angel ( . . . give it a second . . . ). And who can resist the always comical dual signs over the gas station/restaurant collectively reading “Eat Here” and “Get Gas”? Next we have the satellite radar tracking system, which is monitoring Santa’s progress, coyly titled “GONAD,” before we bid farewell with Nick murmuring that a person “sucks” as Ravin, refusing to miss a beat, offers “Caulk?” in hopes of garnering a referent, that is, the surname of Michael David Simms’s character, the police captain. When Nick fails to affirm, silence thereby leading to implied agreement, Mary irritably blurts out, “What is it with you and Caulk?” which leads up to Mary later complaining that Nick, “Hits like a girl,” to which our young lad retorts, “Yeah? Well you kiss like a guy.” Um . . . yeah . . .
. . . and this is just the naming of the various characters and places within the film. This says nothing of the remythologizing of the Santa legend by way of a juxtaposed immaculate birth by Erica, Satan’s bride, who begets Santa (what better time to take advantage of an anagram?). Upon the anniversary of Santa’s birth, December 25th, a Day of Slaying takes place, thus the genesis for the populace conducting an annual Mass of Christ (“Christmas”). However, sometime circa the 11th century, an angel takes human form and challenges Santa (F.Y.I. “Nick,” as in “Saint Nick,” is also a pseudonym for Satan . . . fun, fun), to a curling bet, which will set Santa back 1,000 years in his role of yearly scourge of the Earth if he loses. What’s more, all of this is brought to the viewer via a segue in the form of Rankin-Bass-style Christmas animation.
So, after the sardonic names, coinciding one-liners, and a satirical recasting of Christmas legend, we come to present day where Santa’s 1,000 year goodness penance has expired. Now, if you were Satan’s spawn forced to put on a happy face for ten millennia, what’s the first thing you would do once you got out of your goody-two-shoes lease? How about dumping those twelve scrawny reindeer for something more . . . demonic? Whaddya say to a bitchin’ Viking-esque bison (but keeping the red nose for old time sake)? Now, what do we do once we have our new navigational system in tow? How about running over . . . guess who . . . grandpa? Whoa, hold on a second, you can’t blame Steiman because you know damn well you’d be disappointed if he let such an easy one pass by the wayside.
And–before we wrap up–did you know that if you save enough “Llama Loot” (the poor man’s version of “Camel Cash”) you can purchase–scratch a measly t-shirt or a free ashtray–a bazooka? How many L-notes you ask? Well, according to Vinnie (Jimmy Herman), speaking through his voicebox, for the price of one measly lung, the hardware’s yours!
Sharing more cinematic DNA with Michael Cooney’s Jack Frost than Bob Clark’s Black Christmas, David Steiman’s Santa’s Slay is a highly creative, satirical, mile-a-minute working man’s horror comedy. Rarely, though albeit occasionally, setting his sights slightly above the belt, the director takes seasonal aim with his over-the-top premise which he relentlessly drives home. Indeed, worthwhile Christmas terrors are far and few in between, to say nothing of good X-mas horror comedies, but Steiman’s work is a welcome stocking stuffer for any self-respecting horror fan.
-Egregious Gurnow
- Interview with J.R. Bookwalter - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Andrew J. Rausch - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Rick Popko and Dan West - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Director Stevan Mena (Malevolence) - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Screenwriter Jeffery Reddick (Day of the Dead 2007) - January 22, 2015
- Teleconference interview with Mick Garris (Masters of Horror) - January 22, 2015
- A Day at the Morgue with Corri English (Unrest) - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Writer/Director Nacho Cerda (The Abandoned, Aftermath) - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Actress Thora Birch (Dark Corners, The Hole, American Beauty) - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Actor Jason Behr, Plus Skinwalkers Press Coverage - January 22, 2015
