It’s hard to believe that Bob Clark, the director of the modern classic A Christmas Story (1983) first cut his teeth on a much darker holiday film. Hitting theaters in 1974, Black Christmas is often considered to be the first true North American slasher film. Shockingly enough, it actually came out the same year as The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974), the two films creating a fascinating blueprint for horror films to come. Set during Christmastime in Toronto, the film employs a popular urban legend known as “The Babysitter and The Man Upstairs.” Allegedly based on a real 1950 murder, this legend was the source material for many later horror films such as When a Stranger Calls (1979) and The Sitter (1977), and originated the idea of “the call coming from inside the house.”
As an entirely Canadian production, the film was first released in the Great White North, where it became a huge hit. When it was released in the States a month later, it didn’t do quite as well. Since then, it’s become somewhat of a cult classic, inspiring an entire subgenre of Christmas-themed horror films. The contrast of holiday cheer and grisly murder has become a palpable combination, from ’80s low-budget slashers like Silent Night, Deadly Night (1984) to contemporary gems like Krampus (2015). In addition to pioneering the Christmas horror film, Black Christmas also pioneered the sorority horror film, creating a whole other subgenre ripe for horror. The film also succeeds in provoking a few genuinely eerie moments, relying on moving POV camerawork to put the viewer into the perspective of the killer.
The First Night of Christmas
Warner Bros.
The opening shot sets the tone: a sorority house decked out in Christmas lights and decorations, but viewed through the shaky perspective of a mysterious person outside the house. The person climbs up the trellis and sneaks into the attic of the house. Inside, a sorority girl named Jess (Olivia Hussey) picks up the phone and hears an aggressive voice on the other end. He threatens the girls with a series of perverted sexual threats. Right before ending the call, the voice sends Jess off with an eerie proclamation: “I’m going to kill you.” Barb (Margot Kidder) and Claire (Lynne Griffin), two other sorority girls, help Jess brush it off. Claire leaves to pack up some of her belongings in the attic. The Housemother, Mrs. Mac (Marian Waldman), enters the house carrying an armful of presents. Their spirited conversation fills the room, covering up the footsteps upstairs. The prowler uses this opportunity to attack Claire, suffocating Claire with a plastic dry cleaning bag. She leaves her wrapped up in plastic, seated in a rocking chair next to the attic window.
While the killer lurks in the attic, the girls go about their lives. Jess meets up with her pianist boyfriend Peter (Keir Dullea), and confesses that she’s pregnant and wants to get an abortion. Peter is outraged by her decision, and refuses to let the matter go. As Jess’ friends are murdered throughout the film, she emerges as the so-called Final Girl. Peter’s rage later turns into pleas for marriage, which Jess vehemently denies. And that anger runs parallel to the threatening phone calls to the house, suggesting that Peter may be the killer. At the end of the film, Peter’s frantic behavior leads to him breaking into the sorority house. The killer calls again, this time acting in an intense scene.
He plays two adults, who both yell at a young boy named Billy. The police are listening in, and since the call is long enough, they’re able to trace the call – it’s coming from inside the house. She tries to get out the front door, but it’s stuck, so she goes upstairs. She’s then confronted with the man, who says “It’s me, Billy.” The implication seems to be that his last call was him reenacting a traumatic scene from his childhood. Jess runs down to the basement. It’s then that Peter appears and breaks into the basement. As he approaches Jess, she arms herself with a fire poker. The next shot is the bloody aftermath – Peter lying bloody and dead in Jess’ arms.
The Call Came from Inside the House
Ostensibly a horror film about a maniac killer in a sorority house, this subplot cleverly weaves in some social commentary. Jess maintains her autonomy and controls her fate, providing a satisfying subversion of an otherwise hormone-driven conceit of setting a horror film in a house full of aesthetically-gorgeous women wearing varying levels of clothing. In that sense, Peter is representative of the kind of toxic man who tries to control their partner. At the same time, Billy represents the kind of toxic male to the more exaggerated degree, one who is so violent and angry he resorts to murdering women. The implication seems to be that for women, danger lurks both in plain sight and in the shadows. But while Jess is able to take down Peter, her fate still remains unknown. In the end, the police and Jess both believe they’ve taken the killer down, while Billy remains in the attic with his collection of trophy corpses. Whatever happened with Agnes in his childhood plagues him still, and he will continue his crimes, in a way representing the lingering misogyny in modern society.
Since this original version, the film has been remade two times, once in 2006 and again in 2009. The 2006 remake went with a much gorier, more disturbing take on the story. And it also takes a stab at explaining the backstory of Billy and Agnes. In this version, Billy is a kid, and has to witness his mother and her boyfriend kill his father. In a grotesque twist, Billy’s mother sexually assaults him to produce a daughter, the aforementioned Agnes, while being trapped in the attic. Billy ends up breaking free, killing his mother and her boyfriend. And although he’s institutionalized, he ends up breaking free and going on a killing spree at, of course, a sorority house. The 2019 remake, however, went with a much more tasteful approach. This version introduces new characters instead of using the Billy plot, focusing on sexist injustices at a university. These sorority sisters start calling out the school’s sexist curriculum, as well as a sexist professor, while mysterious murders begin to occur. Despite the social media discourse that plagued this remake’s release, it’s a refreshing take on the subject matter, and incorporates some fun new elements as well.
The Darkness Around the Light
It’s also relevant to see the film in the context of giallo films, which proliferated in the ’60s and ’70s. Giallo, or stylized Italian horror, was spearheaded by directors like Mario Bava, Lucio Fulci, and Dario Argento, who created a vast quantity of work. These stories were frequently mysteries or psychological horror, and featured flashy slasher kills and nudity. Clark seems to have an appreciation for the genre, especially considering his casting of John Saxon, who starred in many gialli throughout his multicultural film career. And these kinds of horror films have a sustained resonance in the contemporary sensibility. It’s no wonder the film has been remade twice, and that it’s been so influential on the horror canon.
The premise is simple and hooky, and again, it explores the misery hiding underneath the bright lights of Christmas tidings. Like David Lynch’s Blue Velvet (1986) but specifically about the holiday season. “Silent Night” plays softly in the background as Billy creeps around the sorority house. As peaceful carolers sing a hymn outside the house, Billy violently murders Barb with a glass unicorn. This duality is ultimately what coheres the film and elevates it above the genre.. With its progressive gender politics and view on abortion, the film subverted expectations and has an evergreen quality. And it’s not hard to see its legacy live on through the horror films that followed. It doesn’t feel like a stretch to say that Michael Myers was a fan of Billy’s work.
