Silent Night (By Phil Fasso)
Back in 2011, when I first established Death Ensemble, one of the promises I made to myself was I would never review a “Silent Night, Deadly Night” flick. Back then, I was reading a lot of horror blogs, and every December, the “SNDN” flicks glutted those sites. Forget that I didn’t enjoy any of the 9 “SNDN” films (the first has its sleazy charm, and the second has “IT’S GARBAGE DAY!” but beyond that, there’s nothing for me here); I’ve never been trendy, and so every winter I’d go about counterprogramming instead. But Phil, you ask, aren’t you breaking your promise by reviewing “Silent Night,” which is a reboot for the “SNDN” series? You would think so, but I’m really not. I’m actually reviewing a Christmas themed extension of Rob Zombie’s “Halloween” flicks. “Silent Night” is a redneck, misogynistic, ultra gory take on the yuletide season, that transports RZ’s Haddonfield to Sleazetown, USA, right down to the casting of Malcolm McDowell. And while I can’t believe what I’m about to type, “Silent Night” makes Zombie’s flicks look quaint and elegant by comparison.
If you didn’t know you were in for trash when you started watching, “Silent Night” keys you in right from the beginning. A guy in a Santa suit and cheap St. Nick mask electrocutes a man tied to a chair. The tool for the electrocution: a string of Christmas lights. The camera leers sleazily on the victim, lingering on both his agonizing death and the atrocious special effects. I hope you enjoy this combination of total rottenness of the human condition and unconvincing FX work; the former is the whole reason for this flick, and the latter is along for the ride.
I’d give a plot synopsis, but the plot isn’t the thing here. Rinse that first kill with blood and repeat, because director Steven C. Miller is more concerned with aping Rob Zombie’s kills in his “Halloween” movies than story. Miller hangs the murders on a whodunnit plot to discover the identity of the killer Santa, with suspects ranging from the sleazy St. Nick in the town square (Donald Logue, who provides the only merriment in the entire flick), a sleazy drug dealer, and a sleazy priest. But I conjecture Miller cares as little about the mystery identity as you will; Miller’s here to dredge up the blood and boobs from the bottom of the exploitation barrel. His “Silent Night” is here to please the exact audience who drools over that aesthetic, and no one else. Miller populates scenes with Girls Gone Wild-style escapades, following them with a naked female victim going through a wood chipper. I found none of this to be fun, and all of it to be gross. It’s violence, nudity and depravity for the sake of empty titillation, and I felt dirty as the end credits rolled.
The reliance on ultraviolence is appalling, but the worst element is the characters. Nearly ever male is a sleaze, a pedophile, a drunk, a misogynist, or some combination. These scumbags abound in what is supposed to be a quaint, little town in Wisconsin, guaranteeing I would never want to visit, and no woman ever should. Oh, and if you felt bad for the first victim killed by those Christmas lights, don’t; he was a scumbag too. Pitted against these fiends, Deputy Aubrey Bradimore works at solving the mystery and stopping Santa dead in his tracks before more people die. Aubrey is sorely underwritten, which undercuts actress Jamie King, who struggles to fill out her character. We’ll learn she loves her dad, a retired cop, misses her husband, who died unexpectedly, and feels inadequate at her job, which she is. That’s about it. Rob Zombie spent a full hour building up Michael Myers as a kid in “Halloween”; Miller doesn’t add that level of care or construction to a single character here.
While we’re talking character and RZ, allow me to address the film’s biggest sin: bringing in Malcolm McDowell and giving him next to nothing to do. Say anything negative you want about RZ’s “Halloween,” but I’ll argue he got the best out of McDowell. His portrayal of Dr. Loomis acts on a higher level from the rest of the film, and resonates because it’s the work of a great actor. Zombie knew how to elicit a top notch performance, and McDowell shines. I’m 125% positive that’s why Miller hired him to play Sheriff Cooper. But much like King, he’s buried in this abysmal material. He curses a lot, and threatens to kick ass. And watching Malcolm McDowell curse and threaten to kick ass will always have its charms. But as much as poor Malcolm tries to rise above both script and sea of snowy blood, he sinks.
The original “SNDN” was a tawdry little film that at least made a statement about the lingering effects of child terrors, and the concept of punishment. At the least, buried beneath the exploitation it had something to say. All Steven C. Miller’s “Silent Night” says is, “Here’s the gore and tits! Have a Nasty Christmas!” As the last entry of a series that had few highs, it’s the nadir. As a RZ “Halloween” ripoff, Miller can’t hold a Noel candle to Michael Myers’ cutlery.
