I love going to the movies and love horror movies, so this week, I took myself to see Black Christmas. The trailers hinted at screaming and running and hiding and killing with sorority girls (AHEM WOMEN) and a creepy masked invader, all wrapped up with Christmas lights. Sounded fun! I went, with no other expectation than to enjoy myself.
I did enjoy myself!
And left with a head full of thoughts, unusual for a slasher movie, right?
The 2019 film, directed by Sophia Takal, and written by Takal and April Wolfe, is the second remake of the 1974 movie Black Christmas (which I haven’t yet seen) and shines a light on the world of being female. On the real horror of walking alone at night, of receiving creepy (but certainly harmless) DMs, of being looked down upon as weak, as incapable, as someone who doesn’t think with logic, but with unreliable intuition.
Real life scary includes men, who think women have a place, who think women will crumble without them.
This movie didn’t subtly slip these themes in, but set them on fire and screamed about it.
All in grand horror fashion. Calling attention to the wrongs of the world becomes much more fun with dark rituals, black goo, masks, and blood.
And I liked it. I loved the atmosphere, that huge, old sorority house was spectacular. The characters interested me, all different personalities and a bit more complex than the usual screaming girls (AHEM WOMEN) of slasher films. The cloaked villains added a nice splash of terror.
Horror provides the perfect shadowy corner to reveal human flaws, to mix the paranormal and creepy with everyday problems, giving a glimpse of the darkness we ignore, the terrible parts that get labeled as just how life is.
With the dark, we learn to find hope.
Because the power isn’t lost, only waiting.
Because hurt doesn’t mean broken.