The holiday horror classic makes murder a merry occasion.
The holiday horror classic makes murder a merry occasion.
Christmas break encroaches for college student Jess Bradford, who grapples with an unwanted pregnancy, contends with an alcoholic den mother and endures tirades from an anonymous caller threatening to murder her.
Directed by Bob Clark, “Black Christmas” follows a sorority house which is stalked and picked off one by one. As the house closes for Christmas break, each victim’s absence is assumed to be an early exit for the holidays.
The 1974 film is a near textbook showcase of tense, dramatic irony. While the characters remain unaware of the murders until the film’s midpoint, the audience is constantly clued into the slayings and where the killer hides — the sorority’s attic.
Casual conversations regarding home and the holidays are horrifically undercut knowing a killer stalks just above. Clark (“A Christmas Story,” “Porky’s”) emphasizes cruel voyeurism in his camera direction, showing the killer’s point of view as he breathily peers over his victims.
Jess, played by Olivia Hussey, leads the co-ed ensemble. The composed, cool-headed upperclassman pieces together what happened to the missing students. Hussey (“Romeo and Juliet,” “Death on The Nile”) lends Jess an air of resilience with a level headed demeanor, regardless of the character’s personal challenges.
Despite being a ‘70s slasher, “Black Christmas” takes a surprisingly progressive stance on women’s autonomy. A throughline to Jess’s story is contention with her boyfriend Peter over her pregnancy. Jess wants an abortion but Peter, played by Keir Duella, doesn’t.
Peter combatively explains his want to be a father and guilts Jess for considering otherwise. When Jess expresses discomfort at being a mother and wife, Peter reacts with barely restrained hostility, threatening violence and cruelly admonishing her.
The film’s depiction of emotional abuse, gendered killing and vulgar misogynistic phone calls paint a clear theme of men’s cruelty against women.
Jess’s best friend Barb, played by Margot Kidder, is a similar firebrand feminist. A crassly charismatic student, Barb chain-smokes, drinks and jokes in the face of law enforcement to push against feminine norms. Kidder (“Superman,” “The Amityville Horror”) embraces a free-flowing spirit as Barb — a sexually-liberated, willfully-enraged woman.
Despite its subversive themes, “Black Christmas” is still a slasher-horror with genre tropes — a mysterious killer, a cast of suspects and kills aplenty. What separates these elements from “Friday the 13th” or “Nightmare on Elm Street” is its thrilling use of restraint.
The kills are mostly bloodless, with a few even occurring offscreen. The film’s poster highlights the earliest kill, setting an anxious tone — gradual asphyxiation via plastic bag.
The film’s horror comes from its ambient space and vague shapes in the dark, knowing the killer could be behind any door or panel in the house. Similar to “Jaws,” the mysterious murderer rarely appears on screen.
A gargled voice, screeching over the landline phone is the only clue to the killer’s motive or identity. “Black Christmas” allows the audience to imagine their own horrors of what lies in the dark attic above.
Since its release, two remakes have attempted to recapture the chilling magic of “Black Christmas.” Both the 2006 and 2019 iterations fall short compared to the original’s unparalleled atmosphere and tragic narrative.
Now 50-years-old, “Black Christmas” still harbors a surprisingly feminist theme on gender violence and abortion. The film unsettles with anonymous cruelty and restricted killings. Its haunting direction and authentic cast imbue the Yuletide season with a palpable sense of paranoia.
Before dusting off Christmas decorations this year, make sure the attic remains vacant.
“Black Christmas,” rated R, is available on Peacock.
Brendan Parr is a fourth-year majoring in Film and Digital Media and minoring in Political Science. Since joining The Phoenix during his first-year Brendan's been a consistent presence. Covering film, television, comic books and music, his pension for review writing motivated his column, 'Up to Parr.' Brendan joined staff as Arts Editor in fall 2024.
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