While the feminism grotesque lore is fresh, the narrative sinks Black Christmas down.
Black Christmas offers a progressive premise incorporating feminism and home-invasion slasher. It’s a well-intended remake of Bob Clark’s slasher classic of the same title. The idea is not highly revolutionary, but, from the corner of the eye, it is commendable in an idea-pitching award. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. The remake falls where it should not be.
The feminism-invasion slasher takes place in sorority houses where a survivor, Riley (Imogen Poots, Green Room) and other sorority women are terrorized by black-hooded killers with some medieval weapons. The killers are no other than some frat boys—endorsed by a supernatural force that doubles down their patriarchal pride which has made them somehow invincible. Only after the women began to speak up, the male supremacist force started to feel the urge to supernaturally enable the male underlings—those linked with the perpetuity of toxic masculinity, rape culture, white supremacist, and, basically, everything against #MeToo movement.
The thing with Black Christmas is, it feels like some collections of Twitter arguments, which are randomly attached to a home-invasion thriller. Sophia Takal and April Wolfe’s script never tries to subtlety blend the elements altogether to create a moving, preposterous story. The final narrative output is rather campy, if not too tongue-in-cheek. Instead of making us sympathize with the characters, the script never gives us a proper attachment to the characters, even when we’re invited to Imogen Poots’ character time and time again.
With some poorly contrived jump-scares and non-memorable on-screen deaths, the horror doesn’t feel convincing as well. The final showdown is supposed to be the feminist feast, but the fun has never arrived. The movie’s lack of energy culminates in the final battle as well. Somehow, I felt very embarrassed and just want this to be over soon. It’s an enticing idea they offer, but it’s the very same enticing idea they stained with the execution.
In the end, you’ll wonder where’s the Christmas but the setting of time?