Don't Open Till Christmas (1984)

Okay, unless you're a Christmas slasher fan, Don't Open Till Christmas might be the gift left unwrapped under the tree.  Released the same year as Silent Night, Deadly Night, the production was...

Oh, really, Chris.  I thought you hit the bottom of the barrel with Jack Frost 2, but you're really sinking now.  

Hey, you didn't even let me get to the review.

Okay, you got me.  I'm just here to remind you that you've only reviewed 6 Holiday films, and you're running out of time.

Yeah, I know.  But I've done a good amount of reviews this month, so give me a break.  I'm calling that a win.

Well, that is true.  Carry on.  I'll be back for the next one.

Hey, it'll be after Christmas.  Don't you, like, hibernate or something?

Nope.  See ya.

I can't wait.  Anyway, released the same year as Silent Night, Deadly Night, this film didn't generate the same amount of outrage.  I assume the reason was it wasn't widely advertised or theatrically released.  And the plot is about a masked killer dicing up men dressed as Santa, rather than a killer dressed as Santa, so it might have let it slip under the radar of the moral crusaders in the 80s.

Trying to describe the plot feels pointless, other than to say a masked killer is stalking the streets of London, slashing up any man dressed as Santa.  We have Kate (Belinda Mayne), who's father is dressed as Santa, and dies in front of her, her boyfriend Cliff (Gerry Sundquist), who becomes a suspect, Chief Inspector Harris of Scotland Yard (director Edmund Purdom), who also becomes a suspect after being removed from the case, and Detective Sergeant Powell (Mark Jones), trying to figure it all out.  Oh, and a sex worker, Sherry (Kelly Baker), witnesses one of the murders and is kidnapped later in the film by the killer.

Oh, that's gotta hurt.

You might have noticed I mention the killer attacks men dressed as Santa.  And it's because the killer encounters a porn model, Sharon (Pat Astley), barely dressed as Santa, and lets her go.  The problem is, she saw him in his mask, as did Sherry, but he doesn't come after her as he does Sherry, for reasons never fully explained.

It might have been Sharon's boobs.  Just saying, as the film implies it.

It's not that the killer is picky.  I think it has to do with the film's troubled production.  Filming started in December of 1982, but conflicts between the producers and director/star Purdom caused multiple delays.  Purdom quit the production, leading to writer Derek Ford and editor Ray Selfie taking separate stabs at directing.

With Purdom's departure, rewrites and multiple reshoots were needed, leading to recasting of characters as the original actors were unavailable.  Purdom eventually returned, adding to the confusion.  I don't envy Selfie's job, as it's evident he did the best he could to make a coherent film with the footage he was given.  Cliff basically vanishes, the potential romance between Harris and Kate leads nowhere, even as she finds reason to suspect him as the killer.  And the kidnapping of Sherry feels like it was added to bring the film to a close, though the original ending was included when Purdom returned to the production.  

And here I get into SPOILERS.  So skip the next paragraph, though I don't think it matters much.

Okay, Sherry escapes the killer, and runs through a beautiful apartment complex.  Yet no one opens their doors to see why a woman is screaming in the hallway, and a body falls down to the first floor.  And Harris' demise from opening a gift from his brother makes no sense.  Sure, we get a flashback explaining the killer's hatred of Santa, but it's from Harris' point of view.  It would have worked better had he been the killer, but I suspect the production issues kept this from happening.

Not gonna spoil it, but it makes no sense and ends on a fade out.  Nuff said.

I will say, the kills are inventive and pretty gory, including an emasculation in a bathroom.  Ouch.  But even the addition of Caroline Munro (billed as herself) performing a musical number interrupted by another murder, can't elevate this film beyond a lump of coal.  Maybe, without the issues during its production, Don't Open till Christmas could have been a decent holiday slasher.  But I suspect you'll feel like returning this gift on December 26.

Oh, signing onto this film might have been a mistake.