Calling Home for the Holidays: BLACK CHRISTMAS

Well, kids, it’s time for my favorite annual media stunt.  Yes, every December 25^th, TBS plays a 24 hour loop of the Bob Clark holiday classic, BLACK CHRISTMAS.  I don’t tune in, I have the movie on Blu Ray, and who watches cable anymore, but I appreciate the gesture.  So, if they can devote an entire day to the groundbreaking 1974 film, I can at least devote a blog post to it.

The Capsule:

It’s Christmas break at a small town Canadian university, and the sorority house is empty aside from a few stragglers, like frumpy housemother, Mrs. Mac (Marian Waldman), acerbic tongued lush, Barb (Margo Kidder), drowsy Phyllis (Andrea Martin), and no-nonsense Jess (Olivia Hussey).  Oh, and Billy, the psychotic prank phone caller who has moved into the attic, unbeknownst to anyone except the cat.  While Jess is busy ending her relationship with her remarkably incompatible boyfriend, Peter (Keir Dullea), and everyone else is distracted by a missing girl, Billy slowly makes additions to the corpses decorating his hiding spot.  By the time dogged cop Lt. Fuller (John Saxon) puts things together, will there be anyone left to warn that the calls are coming from inside the house?

Even though BLACK CHRISTMAS is not as well known as the big franchise names of the ‘80s it's largely thought of as the first slasher. It predates HALLOWEEN by four years. Yes, PSYCHO and PEEPING TOM both came before it, but though they share several elements, neither film fully embraces the kind of disreputable fun that the subgenre is known for.   

Like the other horror milestone released the same year, TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE, BLACK CHRISTMAS is surprisingly light on the red stuff, but can be incredibly disturbing none the less.  This is mostly thanks to the shadowy killer, Billy, or more specifically, his voice.  Billy’s giggling, horrendously obscene phone calls contain some of the most unsettling dialogue ever written, but the delivery seals the deal.  I don’t think I have ever heard a voice that sounds as authentically insane as his (or theirs, as the vocal work was a mix of actor Nick Mancuso, Ann Sweeny, and Clark himself). 

The other element that makes Billy such an effective villain is his mystery.  Unlike most horror movies prior or since, Billy just shows up with zero fanfare.  There are no news reports of an escaped mental patient, no desperate doctor warning the police to be on the lookout, no forewarning whatsoever.  If he had anything to do with the dead girl found in the park halfway through the movie, no one makes the connection.  The only backstory we get comes from Billy himself, a ghastly bit of family drama revealed in fragments—and through separate personas—during his calls.  Billy is not what we’d call a reliable narrator, so there is no telling how much, if any, of it is true.  Masks would become a prominent feature of slashers to come, but Billy takes it a step farther.  We are shown no face, disguised, disfigured, or otherwise, only an eye through a crack in the door.  He could be anyone.  He might be lurking in the shadow of your house right now. 

All the terror and gloom can’t cover up Clark’s impish sense of humor, though.  From a cussing Jewish Santa, to Barb getting a grade-schooler sloshed on champagne, to the constantly ridiculed simpleton cop, Nash (Doug McGrath). Clark uses a few moments of inappropriate levity to keep the story from becoming relentlessly bleak.   Marian Waldman’s performance is the most outlandish.  Her boozy housemother, Mrs. Mac, is straight out of a vaudeville routine.  She’s the kind of loving but crusty broad who keeps little bottles of hooch stashed throughout the sorority house, like hidden in a cutout book or bobbing in the toilet tank (a drastic hiding place, in my opinion).  I’m not sure why she couldn’t just keep them in her private room.  Perhaps she just had a compulsive need to be within five feet of booze at all times.   In addition to humor, she also provides the horror movie staple of the wandering cat.  Rather than being used for jump scares, Claude the cat’s primary function is luring people to their deaths.  Pretty sure he’s an relative of Jonesy from ALIEN.  

Clark is backed up by a solid cast.  John Saxon is great as always playing Lt. Fuller, perhaps the only competent cop in town. I wonder if this is the case that made him settle down for a quiet life on Elm Street?  Margo Kidder steals every scene as the foul mouthed, socially inappropriate lush, Barb.  She meanders seamlessly between being hilarious, sad, feisty, and cruel.  I’m pretty sure Barb could have kicked Billy’s ass if she hadn’t been passed out drunk at the time.  Special mention must be given to Art Hindle as a hockey-playing hunk who takes no shit and has enough swagger to casually rock a full length fur coat.  

Olivia Hussey may have played the genre’s first “final girl”, but she isn’t a typical one.  Jess is reserved, resolute, and analytical.  She certainly doesn’t fit the mold of a scream queen.  She is, however, the worst girlfriend ever.  At least, she is the worst girlfriend for a hyper-sensitive, emotionally needy artist like Peter.  I’m not sure if she’s supposed to represent an overly harsh version of the liberated woman, or if she just doesn’t suffer fools (human empathy) lightly.  In any case, Jess does need to work on her sense of timing.  Did she have to have a heart to heart with Peter an hour before his career defining piano audition for the music department heads?  “Peter, I’m pregnant with your child, and I’ve decided to get an abortion.  And no, I’m not going to marry you, because I don’t love you.  Anyway, good luck at your recital!”

My favorite bit with Jess is when she is on the phone with the cops after they learn that “the calls are coming from inside the house” (suck it WHEN A STRANGER CALLS, BLACK CHRISTMAS said it first).  The long suffering Officer Nash, who has thus far failed to do a single thing right in the entire movie, literally pleads with Jess  to leave the house immediately.  Jess promises to… as soon as she goes upstairs to get her friends.  Maybe grab a few essentials, pack an overnight bag, then she’ll totally leave the house.  It’s a common horror trope for the target of a killer to run upstairs instead of out the front door, but it’s usually due to stupidity, not stubbornness.  

BLACK CHRISTMAS has another notable departure from most slashers in that the movie ends on a wickedly ambiguous note.  One could view the resolution as Jess surviving the night of terrors and getting a well deserved rest, or that she is still in danger and in a far worse position than when she started.  Clark leaves the answer up to us, but I have the strong suspicion that the holiday season is not going to end well for Jess.

 In addition to birthing the entire slasher genre, BLACK CHRISTMAS has spawned two remakes itself, one in 2006 and another just this year.  I haven’t seen either, since I highly doubt they have any fur coat wearing hockey players badgering the police.  For the sake of mixing things up , though, I am willing to break from my annual tradition slightly and watch the original on the TBS all day marathon.  Let me just check the schedule to make sure it starts at midnight…

Oh, fudge.

C Chaka