Wholesome and profane

‘Krampus’ offers holiday horror; plus Joe’s favorite films of Christmas past

In 17th century Germanic lore, Krampus is something of the bad cop to Santa’s good cop. A towering hunchback—cloven-hoofed and horned—he’s a demonic perversion of St. Nick, who carries a sack not to bring gifts, but to kidnap misbehaving children and banish them to eternal exile in Hell. Or worse. Germans were a cheery bunch back then.

Amidst the subversive cinematic traditions of Yuletide fear, from “Silent Night, Deadly Night” to “Rare Exports,” writer/director Michael Dougherty’s atmospheric and fun second feature film “Krampus” stands memorably apart.

Set in American suburbia, the movie introduces us to Tom and Sarah (Adam Scott and Toni Collette), the thirty-something parents of two kids, Max and Beth (Emjay Anthony and Stefania LaVie Owen). It’s two days before Christmas and the clan (including Tom’s aging German mother, played by Krista Stadler) are expecting a visit from Sarah’s sister, Linda (Allison Tolman) and her side of the family—military fetishist husband Howard (Dave Koechner) and their children, Stevie, Jordan, and Howie Jr.—who inadvertently arrive with their unannounced and unwelcome Aunt Dorothy (long-time rowdy character actress Conchata Ferrell).

Max has written a heartfelt letter full of Christmas wishes, bound for the North Pole, which is stolen and read at the dinner table by one of his incorrigible cousins, who mercilessly mocks him for still believing in Santa Claus. After a fight, the dejected Max tears the letter to pieces, tossing it into the frosty night, where it’s borne on the wind with unnerving purpose, and instantly kick starts a raging blizzard. The power goes out. Creepy looking snowmen sprout from nowhere. 

Because that’s not weird at all, the clueless Tom and Sarah let their daughter Beth venture up the street in search of her boyfriend. When she doesn’t return, Tom and Howard go out after her—finding instead a frozen limbo filled with inexplicable horrors.

Dougherty (with co-writers Todd Casey and Jack Shields) has crafted a Joe Dante-esque, often unapologetically dark family horror film. Dougherty has played in this realm before, specifically in his modern cult-classic, the Halloween anthology “Trick ‘r Treat.” He has a creative knack for reinventing pagan folklore, rendering those myths in often imaginative ways with a clear love of classic ‘80s horror.

With cinematographer Jules O’Loughlin (“Sanctum”) and an inspired creature FX and art design team, as well as a lovely score by long-time composer Douglas Pipes, Dougherty captures some truly surreal and frightening moments of desolate tension, while imperfectly balancing the horror with a semi-comedic family drama—early on, the film feels like a bland version of “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation,” with Koechner’s Howard recalling Randy Quaid’s Uncle Eddie.

Most everyone is playing it straight here, and they shine most when the tension is on, but the great disappointment of the movie is watching a cast of so many talented comedic actors wrestle with material that’s not particularly funny. Koechner seems to strike the truest chord between funny and serious (whilst shot-gunning murderous gingerbread man cookies).  

Dougherty is better at eliciting scares than laughs, but the film’s initial awkwardness quickly smooths itself out when the chills kick in. Once they do, “Krampus” consistently ascends into an improbably wild, endearing, and often memorably creepy ride. 

Nostalgic classics

We all have our favorite Christmas films. There’s an inherent nostalgia to them that reminds us of the nascent joy we felt for the season as children.

Movies like “A Christmas Story” are still a comfortable joy to be shared. For children, it captures the magical fantasy of Christmas while being grounded in a familiar reality—the desperate wishing, the dysfunctional parents, the promise of Santa from afar and the disappointment of him up close. But watching it now, the film is arguably richer, revealing a subtle sarcasm you never quite noticed or fully appreciated as a child. 

Thankfully, the vacuum created by that loss of innocence is replaced with a deeper, more adult appreciation for the wholesome—and the profane. But then, I always preferred the latter. 

“Bad Santa” (2003)
In a Christmas movie for misanthropes, Billy Bob Thornton plays a “Leaving Las Vegas”-level alcoholic reprobate who seasonally works as a thief, using his job as a shopping mall Santa to rob retailers with his elven sidekick (the late Tony Cox). Thornton’s Santa is redeemed (sort of) by a sexy barmaid (Lauren Graham) with a Santa fetish and the world’s most hapless Latchkey kid. Unapologetically rude, explicit, mean-spirited and un-PC, “Bad Santa” somehow winds up being amiably satisfying. As the nebbish mall manager, John Ritter, in his final live-action role, steals every scene he’s in. 

“Scrooge” (1970)
This formalist, musical adaptation of the oft-told holiday staple stars Albert Finney as the miser Ebenezer Scrooge and a pre-Star Wars Alec Guinness as his ghostly former partner Jacob Marley. The ornate and textured production design, catchy songs (I still sing “Thank You Very Much” to myself on occasion) and delightfully unhinged performance from Finney, while dated as hell, are framed in a gauzy, glowing sumptuousness that captures the look of Christmas like only the British can. On top of that, it’s dark. Like, dancing-on-coffins dark. It’s no wonder I turned out this way.        

“A Christmas Story” (1983)
There’s a reason this gets played for 24 hours straight on cable. It’s arguably the perfect Christmas movie. Director Bob Clark (whose ironic credits include “Porky’s” and the gritty slasher favorite, “Black Christmas”) channels the spirit of the season, crafting an endlessly entertaining comedy that somehow captures the innocence of the era without, as if by a miracle, the cloying sentimentalism, thanks to its subtle satire. The cast is great. The tone is affectionately comforting. You’ll never lick a frozen flagpole again. And don’t forget to drink your Ovaltine.            

“A Serbian Film” (2010)
Just kidding. Unless you really want to ruin things. Google it, though.

“Die Hard” (1988)
Between the comedies, horror films, and morality plays (aren’t they all?) there has to be room for John McClane killing the shit out of terrorists. One of the greatest action films ever made, this Irwin Allen-inspired high-rise thriller finds an ex-cop on the outs with his wife, trapped in an L.A. skyscraper with a group of militarized, professional thieves who hold her Christmas party hostage. It’s a stone cold classic that changed action movies forever and made Bruce Willis a bona fide star—while also being a depressing harbinger of the “good guy with a gun” fantasies of 2015. Ho, ho, ho.   

“The Irony of Fate, or Enjoy Your Bath!” (1976)
I watched this on a dare years ago, and it’s stuck with me ever since. This strange, mid-‘70s Russian propagandist “holiday” film (at over three hours) finds a group of friends getting catastrophically drunk at the public bath. Pavlik is supposed to fly to Leningrad, but when he passes out, along with co-reveler Zhenya, their shitfaced cohorts put Zhenya on the plane instead. Owing to the uniformity of Soviet-era apartments, Zhenya thinks he’s going home to his fiancée to celebrate the New Year, and believes that until the real tenant, Nadya, arrives. What follows is an oddly charming romantic comedy-of-errors with a one-of-a-kind soundtrack, and retro-surreal performances. A total product of its time that improbably captures the spirit of Christmas in a place where it actually wasn’t allowed to exist.

For more from Joe, read his reviews of "Brooklyn" and "Entertainment."