Krampus (review)

The idea of “Christmas Spirit” has motivated almost as many movies as the ideal of romantic love. If movies represent a sort of philosophical consensus, what our culture takes for granted as true, then one of our most dearly held values is the sanctity of Christmas and what it represents. This includes but is not limited to its religious implications and roots. We seem to believe that Christmas, by uniting us in our desire to not only receive what we want but to be genuinely worthy of receiving it by means of self sacrifice, kindness, and love, possesses a benevolent power that we can access and petition and which will triumph even in face of adversity and/or tragedy.

The new horror film Krampus expands this belief to include a necessary opposite. Hollywood’s vision of Christmas has been noticeably non-dual. It is only benevolent and if you fail to live up to it you may be left alone and bereft (see Ebenezer Scrooge’s derelict and lonely grave) but there is no opposite of Christmas spirit. It is only good and is either present or not. Krampus accesses foreign lore, importing Germanic traditions of a malevolent goblin that feeds on ill will and in the absence of Christmas spirit arrives to drag people into the underworld.

 
Krampus manages the feat of being equally a holiday and a horror movie. It is not a slasher film. People do not die arbitrarily or for the purpose of fiendish gore. But neither is it a film for the whole family to gather around and share while decorating the tree. I for one would not show it to any child under thirteen. The PG-13 rating has rarely ever been so aptly and specifically well used. But more about that later.

The movie tells the story of the Engel family getting together for Christmas with relatives they do not care for. The Engels are affluent and liberal, the mother keeps house so carefully she is almost more a curator than a wife and mother. Her husband is a workaholic and they are noticeably growing apart. Their teenage daughter is growing up in that discomfiting way teenagers do and their son reflects his mother’s own futile need to control the situation and make their family perfect again. But whereas she tries by means of keeping a spotless house and cooking elaborately perfect meals, he tries by getting in fistfights over the existence of Santa Clause.

The other side of the family is a loud, conservative, rural clan whose father listens to talk radio, carries multiple weapons concealed in his Humvee and belittles his relatives for not owning guns or playing football. The film paints the two sides of the family in fairly broad strokes but their humanity is captured and presented with nuance by the cast. Particularly the sisters, played by Toni Collette as the affluent suburbanite and Alison Tolman as the conservative mamma-bear. Their scenes together contain sympathy, weariness, and regret that are not entirely there in the writing but embodied and communicated by the actresses.

In these families Krampus captures our cultural moment well. The political tensions taking precedence over family togetherness feels of particularly relevant danger, as though the world’s problems would be solved if we coul convincingly imitate our own favorite pundits and get that one perfect dig at our overly conservative/liberal family member.

This set up is not unfamiliar in Christmas movies and seems like the framing to a fairly run of the mill family drama. But that would only be true in a world where the lack of Christmas spirit only meant you had a lousy Christmas. In this movie’s version of reality though, Christmas spirit holds back something sinister, something ancient and pagan and elemental. A storm moves in and traps the family together in their home. Family members begin disappearing. The old grandmother closely tends the fire and it becomes obvious that something evil is outside trying to get in.

Krampus is a terrific horror movie. It delivers scares, surprises, and suspense with a headlong momentum. It never resorts to stomach turning gore or the sadistic so it remains fun in a refreshingly cinematic way. Movies have the unique ability to show us less than we think we saw and to tell us more than we are directly told. And Krampus through craft and control manages both objectives. Its set design makes us feel claustrophobic and vulnerable and its creature work has a real menacing weight and originality.

I mentioned before that the PG-13 rating is well applied here. This is not only because I would not feel ok showing it to anyone younger than that but also because thirteen is the perfect age developmentally to be faced with this film’s lessons. By the end of Krampus one not only wants to hug and cherish one’s family but also to re-consider the nature of holiday goodness and the importance of making a conscious choice to be kind and good. Because as the movie suggests there is evil in the world and neglecting to be good leaves room for things that are more than simply not-good.