There’s a surprising number of Christmas horror movies.
A list on IMDb almost reaches 100, and I’m sure it’s far from complete. The titles are a treat in themselves: A Christmas to Dismember (2016), Santa Claws (1996), The 12 Slays of Christmas (2016), Treevenge (2008), Santa’s Slay (2005), Better Watch Out (2016). If you have a good pun, the movie’s half written.
From a commercial standpoint, it makes sense. Between having time off from work, being indoors because of the cold weather and getting the chance to gather as a family, the Christmas season is peak opportunity for the film industry. A lot of films are released toward the end of the year. Whether looking for something to do as a family or a reason to go out of the house and escape your family, theaters pump out Christmas movies for your viewing pleasure.
Notably, the Christmas horror movie, I suspect, is fulfilling a particular need. Some people have specific reasons for not liking Christmas, whether it makes them feel more lonely, or they don’t like the consumerism attached to it, or that they are simply natural Scrooges. However, there just might be something subversive in us all. In a season that promotes love, peace and fellowship, there’s something pleasantly naughty about a Santa who murders unsuspecting families. None of us can be good all the time, and sometimes we need a release from our better selves. Hence, bring on the demonic elves, deadly Christmas dinners and serial killers in red hats.
This type of dissidence in the Christmas spirit is not new to the Hollywood age, nor is it bound by geography. Cultures across the world incorporate horrid monsters and dubious mythical creatures into their Christmas traditions, from the Germanic Krampus who punishes children on behalf of Saint Nicholas to the evil goblins Kalikantzaros who capture Greek and Balkan children in the lead-up to Christmas. One of my favorite Christmas figures hails from Iceland.
The Yule Lads, 13 mischievous troll-like characters, first appear in Icelandic literature in the 17th century. They come down from the mountains one at a time each night before Christmas to play innocent pranks, from stealing spoons to slamming doors in the early hours of the morning. Children leave their shoes out and, if good, get a small treat, while bad children receive a potato.
Christmas in Iceland was innocent enough … until the arrival of Jólakötturinn, the Yule Cat.
The Yule Cat first appears in an 1862 collection of folklore by Jón Árnason, and has quickly gained traction since. The Yule Cat is a large, angry feline that roams the countryside to eat people who did not receive new clothing for Christmas. Although at first appearing classist – and ramping up the pressure on parents, the monstrous cat originally had another practical use: motivating farmworkers. Wool was collected in the autumn on Icelandic farms and the workers were meant to have it processed by Christmas. Those who did would receive new clothes as part of their reward. Farm hands who did not finish in time and therefore could not don a new outfit were eaten by a large cat. The Yule Cat remains popular in Icelandic folklore, appearing in decorations, children’s stories and television programs, much to the delight, I’m sure, of sweater companies. In 2023, an Icelandic film was made about the feline titled Þið kannist við, which literally translates as “You know …,” but, in following the English language tradition of Christmas horror, was called Krampuss in America.
In the end, maybe we can only take so much wholesomeness at once. The ham dinners, the presents, the glittering decorations are all great and most of us look forward to them all year. Christmas is a fine opportunity to reconnect with family, friends and neighbors, and to even reach out to those who are less fortunate (if only to stave off big cats). It’s a season that can really bring out the best in all of us. However, to do so, maybe we need a way to let off a little steam. Maybe we need to also give a slight nod to the worst parts of human nature as well.
This year, my first act of the Christmas season was watching Treevenge, which is only 16 minutes long and available on Youtube. (Note: not for children, not for the squeamish.) Am I a better person now? Absolutely not. But I think I’m a little more ready for the holidays.
