Film Review: Black Christmas (5/10)

A Study in Thematic Ambition vs. Executional Constraints

Sophia Takal's 2019 reimagining of the foundational 1974 slasher, Black Christmas, centers on a group of sorority sisters at Hawthorne College who are systematically hunted by a masked figure during the holiday break. The film, directed by Takal and co-written with April Wolfe, attempts to transpose the original's atmosphere of dread onto a modern framework focused on themes of institutional misogyny and female solidarity.

The core cast is anchored by Imogen Poots as Riley Stone, supported by Aleyse Shannon, Lily Donoghue, Brittany O’Grady, and Cary Elwes. This iteration is a highly self-aware piece of genre filmmaking that seeks to use the traditional slasher structure as a vehicle for pointed social commentary, placing a heavy burden on the technical execution to support the ambitious script.

STORY (1/2)

The narrative, co-written by Takal and Wolfe, presents a significant screenwriting challenge: integrating a blunt, activist-driven thesis into the typically simplistic structure of a slasher film. The initial labor of the script is focused heavily on establishing Riley Stone's trauma and the pervasive misogyny of Hawthorne College. This heavy thematic lifting means that the story structure takes time to warm up to the expected horror pacing. The film is unique in how it explicitly weaponizes familiar campus tropes—fraternities, secret societies, Christmas celebrations—transforming them into symbols of structural oppression.

The primary setting is the deserted campus, which should be fertile ground for isolation and terror, but the story's constant need to deliver its message often pulls focus from essential slasher pacing elements. This narrative choice impacts audience accessibility; viewers looking for straightforward scares may find the socio-political commentary complex or, conversely, too didactic. The pacing, in particular during the first two acts, feels steady but often stalls when characters must engage in dialogue necessary to reinforce the theme rather than advance the threat. This is where the labor of integration struggles: the script often prioritizes the message over the classic narrative tension required for a horror film.

The story becomes distinct only in its final act, when it pivots sharply away from the slasher formula into a more aggressive, supernatural-adjacent feminist allegory, giving the editor a real challenge in maintaining a cohesive rhythm across the three acts. While the story is clean in its thematic intent, its structure ultimately feels fragmented under the weight of its double duty.

VISUALS (1/2)

Working with Cinematographer Mark Schwartzbard, the visual aesthetic of Black Christmas (2019) is immediately distinguished by a commitment to saturated holiday colors—deep reds, sickly greens, and cold blues—which provides an effective contrast to the menace. However, the film's PG-13 rating imposed severe executional constraints, and the visual team had to work extra hard to convey menace without explicit gore. This is a classic example of tough shots—trying to make something frightening when the most reliable tool (blood) is off the table.

The picture quality is generally crisp and modern, fitting the college setting, but it lacks the grainy, tactile dread of the 1974 original. The gaffer’s touch is most evident in the interior shots of the sorority house and the fraternity basement, where lighting is used effectively to isolate and emphasize power dynamics rather than just impending violence. For instance, the use of Christmas lights casts deep, unreliable shadows, forcing the audience to strain their eyes for the threat. The film's unique visual element is the design of the masks and the use of the Christmas setting. However, the requirement to cut away from the physicality of the violence means that many moments that should be visually stunning or horrifying become visually confusing or distant.

There is a palpable sense that the visuals are constantly fighting the rating constraints. This affects believability; a series of quick, off-screen edits, while adhering to commercial demands, detracts from the immersive, visceral storytelling expected from this level of horror.

SOUND (1/2)

In horror filmmaking, the sound design (led by Sound Designer Dean Hurley and the post-production team) is often where the unsung heroes do their most essential labor, especially when the visuals are constrained. The audio mix in Black Christmas manages a good balance between the frequent dialogue—which, again, carries the heavy thematic load—and the sound effects required for the slasher elements. The clarity of the voices is paramount, and the mix ensures the thematic content is always legible over the background noise or score.

However, the effectiveness of the horror sound is inconsistent. While some jump scares are built with a successful, layered soundscape—a sudden shift from a quiet drone to a sharp, metallic sound—the reliance on heavy-handed stingers can sometimes feel like a compensating mechanism for the visually neutered attacks. This is where the craft slightly falters; the score by Willie Watson attempts to compliment the emotional arc of Riley, using tense, modern textures, but it occasionally leans too heavily into generic tension cues rather than truly innovative, character-specific musical motifs. The most crucial part of the audio is the spatial placement of the sound—the creaking floors, the footsteps, the distant shouts.

When the sound team manages to place the menace just outside the frame, creating anxiety through sound alone, the film succeeds. Unfortunately, these moments are often quickly followed by a generic, loud moment of conflict resolution, making the overall audit of the mix feel uneven.

CHARACTER (2/2)

The core success of this film lies squarely on the shoulders of the actors, proving that people over product is the only way to sell this script. Imogen Poots delivers a committed, raw performance as Riley Stone, carrying the emotional weight of trauma and burgeoning empowerment. Her labor is visible in her eyes and her physical presence; she manages to sell both genuine fear and righteous anger, a tough emotional tightrope walk. The supporting actresses, particularly Aleyse Shannon, contribute effectively to creating a sense of sisterhood that anchors the latter half of the film.

The character development paths are defined less by traditional arcs and more by their collective awakening and pushback against the forces attacking them. The film uses costume, hair, and makeup effectively as storytelling tools, often presenting the women in vulnerable, casual states (pajamas, oversized sweaters) to contrast with the rigid, almost uniform-like appearance of their masked male attackers. This contrast, while simple, helps the audience immediately grasp the power dynamics and the human element the protagonists represent.

While the supporting characters are sometimes thinly sketched, a common issue in slashers, the central trio and Poots's performance provide enough humanity and believability to move the ambitious story forward and make the audience invest in their survival.

FACTOR X (0/2)

This is the section where I allow myself to step back from the pure craft and consider the labor of the intent. Black Christmas (2019) is a film with its heart clearly in the right place, attempting to merge the subversive nature of horror with a necessary cultural conversation. I respect the tough shots taken by director Sophia Takal in using a major studio platform to push such an unambiguous feminist message. However, the film is constantly fighting itself. It wants to be a visceral, frightening slasher, but the PG-13 rating prevents the violence from having any real tactile consequence, which is the foundational expectation of the genre it is adapting.

The biggest disappointment comes from the way the film's commerce (the studio's push for a broader rating) directly undermined its craft. The story becomes less a horror film about survival and more an allegory about overcoming the patriarchy, which, while valuable, fails the basic requirement of being an effectively terrifying product. My enjoyment was curtailed by the visible compromises. When compared to recent, more successful message-driven horror films like The Invisible Man (2020) or even Promising Young Woman (2020, stylistically different but thematically resonant), Black Christmas (2019) doesn't manage to seamlessly integrate the horror and the theme. It's a film that demands respect for its ambition but struggles with the practical execution.

Black Christmas (2019) is an ambitious, thematically aggressive piece of genre filmmaking that ultimately suffers from a critical disconnect between its powerful script intent and its restrictive commercial execution. Director Sophia Takal oversaw a committed performance from Imogen Poots and effective contributions from the art department, yet the film's visual and sound teams were continuously fighting the corner it was backed into by the necessity of a PG-13 rating. The result is a slasher that pulls its punches, leaving its craft feeling compromised. I can only recommend this film to viewers who prioritize the explicit, modern thematic messaging over the requirements of tension and horror delivery. It stands as a curious case study of the challenges of adapting foundational horror classics in the modern commercial landscape.

FINAL SCORE: 5/10

Where to Watch: Hulu | Amazon Prime