Review: Violent Night (dir. by Tommy Wirkola)


“Ho Ho holy shit.” — Santa Claus

Violent Night (2022), directed by Tommy Wirkola, is a wild ride that shakes up the traditional Christmas movie formula by turning Santa Claus into a battle-hardened warrior. David Harbour stars as this unconventional Santa, who is far from jolly; he’s a grizzled, somewhat cranky, and disillusioned figure with a Viking warrior past. The movie sets itself apart with a premise that throws a group of ruthless mercenaries into a wealthy family’s Christmas Eve gathering, only to discover Santa isn’t the harmless old man they expected. Instead, he’s a fierce protector who fights back with brutal efficiency.

The story unfolds at the mansion of the affluent Lightstone family during their holiday reunion. The family is full of tension, with secrets and resentments bubbling just beneath the surface. When a gang of mercenaries led by the villainous Scrooge (John Leguizamo) invades the house to steal a fortune rumored to be stashed there, the family members become hostages. Among them is Trudy, a young girl who still believes in Santa and becomes an emotional anchor for the story. What follows is a chaotic clash as Santa unleashes his warrior skills in a bloody and often darkly humorous fight to protect Trudy and take down the intruders.

One of the strongest aspects of Violent Night is David Harbour’s performance. His Santa is not the usual cheerful holiday icon but a rough-around-the-edges hero with a quick wit and a fierce sense of duty. Harbour brings a compelling mix of grit and warmth, making Santa both intimidating and surprisingly endearing. His fight scenes are impressively choreographed, with inventive use of Christmas-themed props that add a unique flavor to the action. The humor, often delivered through clever one-liners and absurd situations, enhances the movie without overloading it, striking a balance between dark comedy and action thriller.

The action sequences are a highlight, filled with creative and over-the-top violence that turns traditional Christmas decorations into lethal weapons. From candy canes to Christmas lights, the film embraces its outrageous concept fully, often with a smirk and knowing wink to the audience. This approach to action and humor makes it feel like a holiday-themed grindhouse film, which will certainly appeal to viewers looking for something different from typical festive fare.

However, the film is not without flaws. The storyline sometimes leans too heavily on clichés and predictable twists, particularly around family drama and criminal motives. While the Lightstone family members are meant to add complexity to the narrative, many come across as caricatures, which lessens emotional impact. The pacing occasionally suffers as well, with some scenes dragging or feeling repetitive amid the barrage of action. Furthermore, the movie’s tone can be uneven—certain moments of humor or sentimentality clash with brutal violence, which might alienate viewers who prefer more consistent storytelling.

The supporting cast delivers performances that range from serviceable to over-the-top, fitting the film’s campy and exaggerated style. John Leguizamo’s Scrooge is a memorable villain with a sneer and attitude that fits the tone, while Beverly D’Angelo adds a touch of dark humor as the wealthy matriarch. The character of Trudy serves as the emotional heart of the film, grounding the chaos with a child’s innocent belief in magic and goodness. Yet, some secondary characters feel underdeveloped, existing mostly to provide fodder for the violence or comedic moments.

Visually, Violent Night embraces the glitz and cold grandeur of a wealthy family’s mansion, contrasted sharply by the gritty and bloody action that unfolds. The cinematography and production design showcase the holiday setting effectively, using wintery landscapes and elaborate Christmas decor as backdrops that add to both the festive and lethal atmosphere. The film keeps a brisk pace, aided by energetic direction, though it sometimes prioritizes style over substance.

In terms of themes, Violent Night plays with the clash between holiday cheer and harsh realities, exploring ideas about family, belief, and redemption through its unusual take on Santa Claus. It taps into a more cynical view of Christmas but ultimately doesn’t abandon the underlying message of hope and protection. This mixture, however, occasionally feels forced, as the violent antics often overshadow character development and emotional depth.

Overall, Violent Night is an entertaining and unconventional holiday film that is best enjoyed with an appetite for absurdity and dark humor. It stands out for pushing boundaries with its brutal action scenes and a refreshingly gruff Santa, offering a festive movie experience that fits more in the niche of chaotic fun rather than heartwarming tradition. While it may not win over purists looking for classic Christmas storytelling, it offers a distinctive alternative for those who want their holiday films with a hard edge and plenty of explosive moments. For viewers who can embrace its mix of camp, carnage, and seasonal spirit, Violent Night delivers a wild, memorable ride that defies expectations.

4 Shots From 4 Films: Special Udo Kier Edition


4 Shots From 4 Films is just what it says it is, 4 shots from 4 of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 Shots From 4 Films is all about letting the visuals do the talking.

In memory of Udo Kier, here are…

4 Shots From 4 Udo Kier Films

Flesh For Frankenstein (1973, dir by Paul Morrissey, DP: Luigi Kuveiller)

Blood For Dracula (1974, dir by Paul Morrissey, DP:Luigi Kuveiller)

Europa (1991, directed by Lars Von Trier, DP: Henning Bendtsen,
Edward Kłosiński, Jean-Paul Meurisse.  Released as Zentropa in North America)

Swan Song (2021, dir by Todd Stephens, DP: Jackson Warner Lewis)

 

Join #MondayMania For Deadly Dance Mom!


Hi, everyone!  Tonight, on twitter, I will be hosting one of my favorite films for #MondayMania!  Join us for 2017’s Deadly Dance Mom!

You can find the movie on Prime and then you can join us on twitter at 9 pm central time!  (That’s 10 pm for you folks on the East Coast.)  See you then!

Song of the Day: The Harder They Come by Jimmy Cliff


RIP, Jimmy Cliff.

Today’s song of the day is The Harder They Come, taken from the soundtrack of the 1972 Jamaican film of the same name.  This film and Jimmy Cliff’s performance and the soundtrack are all often credited with introducing reggae to the rest of the world.

Well they tell me im a pie up in the sky
Waiting for me when i die
But between the day your been and when you die
They never seem to hear or even cry

So as sure as the sun will shine
im going to get my share now of whats mine
And then the harder they come the harder they’ll fall
One and all
Ooh the harder they come the harder they’ll fall
One and all

Well the oppressors are trying to keep me down
Trying to drive my underground
And they think that they have got the battle won
I say forgive them lord, they know not what they done

Cause as sure as the sun will shine
Im gonna get my share now of whats mine
And the harder they come the harder they fall
One and all
Ooh the harder they come the harder they fall
One and all

And i keep on fighting for the things i want
Though i know when your dead you cant
But id rather be a free man in my grave
Than living as a puppet or a slave

So as sure as the sun will shine
Im going to get my share now whats mine
And then the harder they come the harder they fall
One and all
Ooh the harder they come the harder they fall
One and all

Monday Live Tweet Alert: Join Us For Street Asylum!


As some of our regular readers undoubtedly know, I am involved in hosting a few weekly live tweets on twitter and occasionally Mastodon.  I host #FridayNightFlix every Friday, I co-host #ScarySocial on Saturday, and I am one of the five hosts of Mastodon’s #MondayActionMovie!  Every week, we get together.  We watch a movie.  We snark our way through it.

Tonight, for #MondayActionMovie, the film will be 1990’s Street Asylum!

It should make for a night of fun viewing and I invite all of you to join in.  If you want to join the live tweets, just hop onto Mastodon, find the movie on YouTube and hit play at 8 pm et, and use the #MondayActionMovie hashtag!  The  watch party community is a friendly group and welcoming of newcomers so don’t be shy.   

Scenes I Love: Udo Kier in Suspiria


RIP to the great actor, Udo Kier.  He died yesterday at the age of 81, in Palm Springs, California.

Today’s scene that I love features Kier in the only version of Suspiria that matters, the original one directed by Dario Argento.  In this scene, Kier discusses witchcraft with Jessica Harper.

Review: John Doe: Vigilante (dir. by Kelly Dolen)


“They failed us… so what choice did I have?” — John Doe

John Doe: Vigilante, directed by Kelly Dolen and released in 2014, is a blunt and provocative take on the vigilante thriller, brimming with social commentary and visual grit. The film revolves around John Doe, played by Jamie Bamber, whose world is shattered by the violent deaths of his family members. Disillusioned by a justice system that barely delivers justice, Doe transforms himself into a vigilante, targeting repeat offenders who continually evade real consequences. The narrative takes a non-linear approach, jumping between timelines using mock interviews, courtroom debates, and TV news segments to piece together Doe’s story and the societal mania swirling around him.

The structure of the film is both one of its most engaging features and a source of occasional frustration. Rapid switches between documentary-style “talking head” interviews, real-time action, and flashbacks keep the viewer on their toes. While this can create some dramatic momentum, it also leads to a sense of disconnect, as the story sometimes trades clarity for style. Still, there’s an undeniable energy to this format. The movie feels urgent and relevant, throwing the audience directly into a conversation about law, order, and the places these systems break down.

A major focus of the film is on the media’s influence over the public’s perception of vigilantism. The mixed portrayal of John Doe as both a monster and a folk hero reflects how quickly public sentiment can tilt depending on who’s doing the telling. There’s an uncomfortable suggestion that cycles of violence and public outrage are not only connected but sometimes dependent on the news cycle to fuel them. The film hammers this point home repeatedly, sometimes at the expense of nuance. It isn’t shy about waving its message in the viewer’s face, with characters often delivering speeches about justice, victimization, and the failings of society.

Despite some heavy-handedness, Jamie Bamber’s performance is the glue holding everything together. He plays Doe with a haunted distance rather than unrestrained rage, showing a character who’s been hollowed out by tragedy and driven by a cold, relentless sense of necessity. He’s not a cartoonish avenger—his actions clearly torment him, and his moments of uncertainty make the character believably conflicted. However, the supporting cast doesn’t fare as well, with most roles feeling thin and underdeveloped. Journalists, detectives, and secondary victims drift in and out, often serving mainly as delivery devices for the film’s ceaseless thesis statements about crime and morality.

The violence in John Doe: Vigilante is unflinching and rarely sensationalized. Confrontations come fast and harsh, depicted with practical effects that drive home the ugliness of the acts themselves. This directness serves to emphasize the horror of violence, whether enacted by criminals or by Doe himself. The film’s refusal to sugarcoat these scenes will appeal to viewers who prefer realism and discomfort to stylized action, but it may push others away due to its unrelenting bleakness.

On the plus side, the movie does succeed in keeping the viewer guessing about its core question: Is Doe’s crusade righteous or an invitation to chaos? His victims are almost unfailingly depicted as monsters, which blunts some of the intended ambiguity, but the reaction from the world around him—copycat crimes, protests, media manipulation—spins the plot in more interesting directions. The broader implication is that once a society loses faith in the courts, retributive justice becomes both appealing and very, very dangerous. While the film mostly sticks to familiar genre beats, it does occasionally land a punch that lingers. Scenes showing a growing vigilante movement in response to Doe’s actions are particularly thought-provoking, inviting viewers to consider how collective anger can quickly spiral out of control.

However, the film repeatedly stumbles over its own desire to make a point. Its depiction of evil is strikingly black-and-white, and the justice system is rendered in frustratingly broad strokes. Very little time is spent on the possibility of innocent people being caught in the crossfire or of criminals ever achieving redemption. All the nuance falls to Bamber’s performance, as the rest of the characters serve mostly as echoes of his trauma or mouthpieces for the script.

Dialogue can also be a weak point. Characters often speak in loaded, over-serious refrains about crime and victimhood. If you’ve seen other media with vigilante themes, especially ones grappling with morality, John Doe: Vigilante might give you déjà vu. It isn’t particularly subtle and tends to repeat itself, particularly in the latter half, as perspective shifts and news segments rehash similar arguments. By the time the final acts come around—with a pivotal, tension-drenched scene of Doe delivering his last “message” to the public—the narrative momentum has already started to lag.

Still, the film isn’t without its bright spots. Its editing, especially the way flashbacks are woven into the present narrative, is creative and keeps certain plot elements hidden until just the right moment. There are a few bold narrative choices—one involving a child’s perspective near the end is a standout—that briefly elevate the film above its otherwise standard revenge-thriller fare. These are the moments that will stick with viewers long after credits roll.

At its core, John Doe: Vigilante is angry and bruising, with its heart firmly pinned to its sleeve. It wants to provoke discomfort and debate, not offer easy answers or escapist fun. The movie wrestles with questions of what justice really means when institutions fail, and whether violent reckoning is ever justifiable—even for the worst of the worst. It doesn’t ultimately land on a satisfying conclusion, but that may be the point.

John Doe: Vigilante stands as a solid and sometimes stirring entry in the vigilante genre, bolstered by a committed lead performance and raw intensity but hampered by heavy-handed dialogue, weak supporting characters, and a lack of moral complexity. For viewers who enjoy gritty crime films and are open to films that raise difficult, unsettling questions, John Doe: Vigilante is worth checking out. Just don’t expect it to pull its punches—or to give you any tidy resolutions.

Review: Silent Night (dir. by John Woo)


“I can’t speak, but I’ll make them listen.” — Brian Godlock

Silent Night (2023) finds John Woo making his first American action film in two decades, since the disappointing Paycheck in 2003. While it’s definitely a step up from that sci-fi thriller misfire, Silent Night still doesn’t quite reach the heights of Woo’s Hong Kong classics or even his best Western productions like Face/Off. This latest outing is a lean, mostly dialogue-free revenge thriller that has Woo’s fingerprints all over it—a mix of balletic violence and emotional anguish—but it also shows the limitations of trying to recapture that old Woo magic in a very different cinematic landscape.

The story is simple: Joel Kinnaman plays Brian Godlock, an electrician whose son is killed in a gang shootout on Christmas Eve, and he himself is shot in the throat, losing his voice. The film then follows Brian’s quiet but brutal quest for revenge a year later. The choice to tell this nearly wordless story is a bold gamble, and for much of the film, the absence of dialogue adds power to the emotions and the tension. Kinnaman’s physical performance carries most of the weight—his grief, anger, and determination are all conveyed through body language and expression. This is one of the biggest strengths of Silent Night: Woo’s ability to communicate story and feeling visually, which harkens back to the silent films of early cinema, blending with his signature poetic violence.

That said, the silence also highlights the script’s thinness. The supporting characters, including Brian’s wife (Catalina Sandino Moreno) and a sympathetic detective (Kid Cudi), feel underdeveloped, serving more as plot functions than full people. This narrow focus on Brian’s pain and revenge means the film sometimes feels emotionally shallow beyond the core trauma. Compared to Woo’s earlier work, where secondary characters and relationships added layers of complexity and intensity, Silent Night is more singular and direct, for better and worse.

When it comes to action, Woo shows he still has the chops. The gunfights and hand-to-hand scenes are meticulously choreographed, emphasizing realism with a solid dose of stylized flair. It’s a return to the grounded grit Woo displayed in some of his earlier Hong Kong films, leaving behind some of the higher-octane operatic excess of his best-known Hollywood hits. The violence feels impactful and earned, avoiding cheap spectacle for a more tactile, bone-crunching effect.

Still, Silent Night doesn’t quite have the scope and scale of Face/Off or The Killer. It lacks the grandeur and intricate storytelling that made those films iconic. Instead, it’s a tighter, moodier experience that prioritizes emotional atmosphere over plot complexity. This stripped-down approach is refreshing to a degree, but it can also become monotonous—especially since the lack of dialogue and limited character development demand more patience from the viewer.

Comparing it directly to Paycheck, Silent Night is a clear improvement. Paycheck was widely regarded as a forgettable action film that failed to capitalize on Woo’s talents, stuck with a muddled sci-fi plot and lacking the emotional firepower Woo excels at. Silent Night ditches the high-concept sci-fi for a more grounded, personal revenge story, allowing Woo to bring more of his hallmarks to bear—the intense physical performances, a palpable sense of loss, and carefully crafted action sequences.

However, it’s important to temper enthusiasm with the fact that Silent Night is not a full return to Woo’s prime Hong Kong cinema or his best Hollywood days. It’s missing some of the poetry, charm, and iconic bravado of movies like Hard Boiled or Face/Off, where Woo’s characters felt larger than life and the action was operatic and unforgettable. Here, the film often feels restrained, even muted, perhaps reflecting a director adapting to new cinematic expectations but also struggling to fully bring himself back to the forefront in the American industry.

Silent Night is a worthwhile viewing for fans of John Woo and action cinema looking for something different—one part homage to classic revenge tales, one part experiment in silent storytelling. It’s emotionally raw, visually precise, and markedly better than Paycheck, but it also lacks the fire and inventiveness that made Woo a legend. It’s a step forward and a reminder that even the greatest filmmakers can evolve and sometimes falter. If Woo is finding his voice again, it’s decidedly quieter but still unmistakably his own.