Don’t Open Till ChristmasMight Be the Sleaziest Holiday Horror Movie Ever

You ’ve heard of Christmas cheerfulness . What about Christmas cheapness ? It much oozes off the screen in 1984 slasherDon’t Open Till Christmas , mastermind by Edmund Purdom — who also stars as a tec trying to figure outwho ’s been slaughtering peopledressed asSanta Claus . Ho - ho , oh - no !

There ’s nothing warm and cozy about thisholiday tale , which enthusiastically commits to its theme of uttermost sleaziness from the possibility conniption ; the first Santa to die onscreen — though we soon learn he ’s not the first victim — is stabbed while making out with a woman in the backseat of his auto . ( She ’s also stabbed to death , of course — while the murderer mostly targets you - know - who , Do n’t spread out Till Christmas would n’t dream of lapse up an chance for violence . ) The key image in the opening credits is a crummy Santa toy that ’s been set on fire ; it burns off to reveal a knife dig out of its center . The sequence is a nod to Halloween ( andHalloween II , which spread with a flaming jack o ’ lantern ) , but it also primes you for what ’s to number : an immolation of the total concept ofall thing mirthful and festive , with mid-1980s tackiness and some very dark bodily fluid to rush .

The Santas killed in Do n’t assailable Till Christmas are generally catch out of context . At least one is employed taking photos with kids in a department store , and one gets offed performing at a costume company . But these red-faced - suited quarry are far from wholesome ; we mostly see them stumbling around dark alleys , but other backdrops include grubby bathroom , a overrefinement museum , a creepy-crawly circus , and one especially memorable peep - show booth .

Festive! Yet also menacing!

Festive! Yet also menacing!Screenshot: 21st Century Film Corporation

The soundtrack throughout features familiar Christmas songs like “ Jingle Bells , ” but the renditions sound slenderly off - keystone — just one component of the product purpose here that spreads voluminous unease . Another is the abundance of handheld shivering - cam , often mate with heavy breathing so we know it ’s the killer ’s POV . Overall , Do n’t Open Till Christmas aims for a blend of hideous and titillating that is n’t so rare in broken - budget criminal offence movies from this geological era , but the Santa Claus angle add that spare fiddling jingle - bell spark .

The characters in Do n’t opened Till Christmas are lamentably underdeveloped , but there ’s just enough weird flair scatter around to make them interesting . After dainty Kate ( Belinda Mayne ) witnesses the death of her Santa - suit Padre , she ’s drawn into the type by New Scotland Yard ’s Chief Inspector Harris ( played by director Purdom ) and Detective Sergeant Powell ( Mark Jones)—and eventually turns sleuthhound herself . The movie tosses out some likely suspects , including Kate ’s mulleted boyfriend Cliff ( Gerry Sundcliffe ) , who ’s somewhat manifestly sponging off her wealthiness , has some unmistakable homophobia issues , is best friends with a pornography - y photographer who seek to pressure a fed up Kate into sitting , and who realise his keep by tootle his flute in the tube . Cliff may not be the liquidator , but you ca n’t assist but think he ’s probably guilty of something .

Despite Scotland Yard ’s determination — we get wind a deal about the cops ’ raring genus Bos , though we never actually see him — there ’s seemingly no fillet Do n’t Open Till Christmas ’ killer , whose ability to evade capture is almost as telling as all the different methods he practice to wipe out his prey . ( At one power point , the cops literally say to each other , “ Do you think we might have a psychopath on our work force ? ” Guys … yes ! Yes , you do . ) Their grand plan demand having cops go undercover dressed as Santa , a tactic that may have worked for Popeye Doyle in The Gallic Connection but is handled with much less nuance here — especially since this movie has more than ground that anytime we see a Santa on - projection screen , the Orcinus orca will suddenly materialize .

You SHOULD be worried, Santa!

You SHOULD be worried, Santa!Screenshot: 20th Century Film Corporation

Rather than following an actual plot of land , Do n’t Open Till Christmas is way more interested in cramming as many grotesque death scene into its 86 - minute running time as potential . Along with some middling standard stabbings and choking , there ’s a Santa who meets his closing thanks to a knife concealed in the toe of a boot ( used to kick him the fork ) and a studded glove ( used to murder his face ) ; a Santa shove headfirst into a grill of laugh at chestnut ; and a Santa who makes his grand entrance onstage … as a corpse … at a concert feature sequin - clad singer - actress Caroline Munro ( a cameo , but she ’s still the biggest name in the cast ) . We see eyeballs poke out , knife plunged into skull and emerging from oral cavity , a salient electrocution , and — in perchance the film ’s most notorious scene — a most unfortunate Santa separate from his Little St. Nick while he ’s mid - stream at the urinal .

With imaging like this , thing like the sea wolf ’s individuality ( pretty darn obvious as soon as the character ’s introduced ) and Grinch - y need ( shoehorned into the pic ’s last few minute ) become secondary business concern . Proudly nasty and absolutely untroubled to beat its Santa thingumabob into the background , Do n’t Open Till Christmas will not warm your heart and soul — unless you are a furore movie sports fan and/or a bloodthirsty gorehound , in which case it will enthrall your coal - black person . I watch it every year !

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You too, Santa!