Despite the fact that just about every movie in production right now is being filmed in Canada, there are precious few Canadian movies. There are even fewer still of any significant value, which might explain why, when asked about Canadian cinema, most people assume you mean publicly funded documentaries about polar bears or French language wank-a-thons. A few cinephiles might reference the work of Atom Egoyan or David Cronenberg, but really that’s it. Blame the close relationship between Anglophone Canada and the United States and the resultant cultural bleed-over for the wishy-washy cultural identity of Canada.

It’s ironic, then, to note that a small Canadian horror film is probably one of the most massively influential horror films ever produced. I’m talking, of course, about Black Christmas. Released late in 1974 (the same year as The Texas Chainsaw Massacre), Black Christmas came and went with little fanfare. Pretty much dismissed by every critic on the planet, it still managed to be a modest hit, grossing $4 million on a paltry $600,000 Canadian budget. It must’ve been seen by just the right people, however, because it’s fingerprints have been all over the horror genre ever since. I'd go so far as to say that Black Christmas created the template for the modern slasher film, a template that's still rigidly adhered to, even more than thirty years later.

Black Christmas is influential in other ways beyond the stalk and slash formula it helped pioneer.

The most obvious influence is the holiday, or date- theme horror film. Halloween is usually credited as the progenitor of that trend, but Black Christmas beat it by nearly four years. Black Christmas also pioneered other elements that are now considered staples of the genre: the camera that suggests the POV of the killer, the group of nubile young girls being stalked and picked off one by one, the “nice” girl who is the survivor.

The film opens on the beginning of Christmas break at the Pi Capa Sig sorority house. While the university students revel in holiday festivities, an unseen intruder is stalking, peering in windows at the girls. This unseen intruder climbs up a trellis and sneaks into the house. Downstairs the girls get a call from an anonymous pervert they have dubbed “The Moaner”. This particular call is far more sickening than any that preceded it and ends with The Moaner stating: “I’m going to kill you”.  One of the sorority girls, Claire is upset with the tempestuous Barb for telling off the Moaner. She goes upstairs to pack since she is planning on spending the Christmas holidays with her family.

The next day Claire fails to meet her father at a prearranged pick up spot. He is dismayed to learn that the sorority chaperone, the boozy Ms. Mac, has no idea where Claire is. At first the police are hesitant to do anything but when another girl is reported missing and ultimately found dead, the police make the connection between the threats of the obscene caller and the two missing girls. A wiretap is set up to try and ascertain the identity of the caller and perhaps the murderer as well. Meanwhile the terrified Jess is used as bait and soon comes to realize that the evidence is starting to suggest that her boyfriend Peter (Keir Dullea) may be the killer. 

Incidentally, it’s interesting to note that the role of the survivor as she’s typically been portrayed in American slasher films is actually an interpretation of Olivia Hussey’s character Jess in Black Christmas. Jess is not a virgin. Far from it in fact: Black Christmas opens with her pregnant out of wedlock and considering an abortion. That stands in stark contrast to characters such as the virginal Laurie Strode in Carpenter’s Halloween, or Alice in Friday The 13th. It’s an interesting contrast of the difference in sexual mores between Canada and the US. I find it kind of odd that American filmmakers seem to shy away from dealing with the issue of teenage pregnancy in slasher films. Such a subplot was deleted from the 2003 remake of Texas Chainsaw Massacre and marginalized in Friday The 13th Part 3. For a genre that so slavishly sticks to the formula established in Black Christmas, it’s very telling that this one element is changed in just about every American iteration of the story.

One of the best aspects of Black Christmas is the ambiguity of it’s ending. We never find out who the killer is, why he’s doing what he’s doing. There seems to be some connection between Jess’s pregnancy and the killer’s rants about “not killing the baby”, but then again that could just be a coincidence. Who is Billy and, possibly even more importantly, who is Agnes and what did they do? It’s actually refreshing to watch this 32 year-old-movie that doesn’t spoon-feed us the answers.

The obscene caller motif employed in Black Christmas would later be used in When A Stranger Calls (1979) and yet another Canadian slasher film, Prom Night (1980).  This element of the plot would be largely ignored through out the rest of the 80’s and 90’s, though it would be made immortal by becoming a twist as part of urban legends, campfire tales and other modern folklore.  An updated take on this element (involving cells phones) would appear in the Scream films (starting 1996).

The film is almost unbearably intense at times, and director Bob Clark shows a sure hand when it comes to establishing and maintaining mood, but he’s also not afraid to allow a bit of levity into the picture. Margot Kidder plays Barb, probably the booziest, flooziest role of her career and absolutely devours ever scene she’s in. She’s great fun to watch, but she never becomes a caricature and never crosses the line into camp. I wish the same could be said of Marian Waldman as Mrs. Mac. Its kind of funny to see her compared with the acerbic tempered Barb as a younger and older version of the same person, but she’s far more one-dimensional, and far less entertaining. John Saxon plays the type of role that virtually defined his career; he’d play pretty much the exact same character ten years later in Wes Craven’s A Nightmare On Elm Street. Additionally, enough cannot be said about Olivia Hussey’s Jess. One of the more accomplished actors in a strong cast, Hussey is able to make Jess seem sympathetic and yet flawed at the same time. She’s largely a passive character (the gung-ho female heroine is one of the few genre staples this film did not pioneer), yet never comes off as seeming weak. Despite the passivity of her situation, she is still a woman who is in charge of her own life and makes her own decisions, for better or worse.   

While Black Christmas doesn’t have as high a profile as it’s American progeny, it nevertheless has a sizable and devoutly loyal cult of followers. It’s even being remade this Christmas by Glen Morgan who directed another remake of a 70’s cult film, Willard. The difference here is that while Willard was a clunky and not very good film, Black Christmas really needs no updating. It’s chilly winter milieu and gritty feel is just as effective today as it was 35 years ago and the final shot of the film is just as haunting as the final shot of Halloween or Psycho. I’m not being the least bit ironic when I say that Black Christmas is a film worth of mention in the same breath as those two horror classics.

Black Christmas is presented for the first time in anamorphic widescreen. The image is extremely grainy, but that’s consistent with the source material. The opening sequence has some distracting compression artifacting. Compression issues reoccur throughout the film in shadowy areas. On the plus side, the print is mostly clean and free of blemishes such as scratches. Let’s face it: Black Christmas is never not going to look like a low budget Canadian film from the seventies. I feel pretty confident saying that, short of a major digital overhaul, this is as good as we can expect Black Christmas to look on regular DVD.

Included here are three audio tracks: English 5.1, English 2.0 and Français 2.0. Conspicuously absent is the English mono track from the previous Critical Mass release. Purists will decry its absence here and bemoan the 5.1 track which sounds, to my ears at least, not simply remixed by largely newly created. As such, it’s aggressive in an almost showy way. It’s occasionally distracting as some sound effects in the rear surrounds are far too clear, but overall I must say that I was very pleased with it.

Extras

Another release, another batch of extras, none of which have been carried over from the previous Critical Mass release.

First up, we have two newly discovered soundtracks for existing scenes. I really didn’t care about some alternate sound effects and a slightly different sound mix to these scenes. I’m not even entirely sure why they included these when they didn’t include the original mono track or some footage with the theatrical mix for the purposes of comparison. Audiophiles who are very well versed in the sound design of Black Christmas may find it fascinating, but honestly I didn’t care. 

Next we have 12 Days of Black Christmas, a new documentary running nearly twenty minutes. It’s not bad, but there’s nothing here particularly illuminating for fans of Black Christmas, and John Saxon’s staid narration doesn’t help spark any interest. There’s also a lot of overlap in material covered in this documentary and in the other supplements.  

Also included is 20 minutes of footage from a Q & A session held after a midnight screening of Black Christmas. On hand are Director Bob Clark, star John Saxon and composer Carl Zittrer. There are some interesting anecdotes (I never knew that Edmund O’Brien was originally cast in John Saxon’s part) and the speakers are cordial and engaging.

There is a video interview gallery composed of individual interviews with Olivia Hussey, Margot Kidder and Art Hindle. Running 17, 22 and 24 minutes respectively, these interviews mostly contain material that was not used in the documentary. Olivia Hussey starts off a bit cold and aloof, but soon warms to talking about her experiences while making the movie. However, she has little insight in to the finished product as she admits to being unable to watch horror films. Margot Kidder and Art Hindle, on the other hand, have a lot of insight to offer with regards to the making of the film and just the general climate for Canadian actors in filmmakers in the late 60’s and early 70’s; Margot Kidder is especially frank and engaging. Being Canadian, I enjoyed their insights very much.

Black Christmas is a no-brainer, and this release is easy to recommend for people who don’t already own it. It’s an effective and influential little shocker that’s been criminally overlooked by the mainstream and deserves a rightful place in any horror fan’s stocking this holiday season. Fans who have the previous edition will probably want to hang on to it since it has better supplements than this release, but the improved A/V quality here is worth a double dip. Black Christmas and horror completionists will want to own both and considering the low SRPs on both, I’d say that’s not a bad idea.