Man, when I started this Christmas movie series, I had no idea a full 50% of the selections would feature incest as a major plot reveal. But, there it is, yet again, at the end of "Silent Night, Bloody Night", a grungy American giallo from 1974. I guess that would make it the " 'Chinatown' of Long Island Gothic Christmas movies starring multiple member's of Warhol's Factory". Actually, "starring" is too strong a word. Mary Woronov is the only Warhol acolyte with a major role. She was married to the director, Theodore Gershuny at the time, so I imagine she brought her Factory friend's along for the fun.
Patrick O'Neal is John Carter, a lawyer tasked with brokering a deal to sell the Butler mansion to a group of power player's in the town of Arlington, MA. These potential buyer's are the mayor (Walter Abel), the sheriff (Walter Klavun), the newspaper editor (John Carradine) and...the telephone operator (Fran Stevens). The estate was left to Jeffrey Butler after his grandfather was burned alive on Christmas Eve 1950. Along for the ride with Carter is his mistress, Ingrid, played by the Bardot-esque Astrid Heeren. It should be noted that Carradine only communicates by ringing a bell ala Hector Salamanca on "Breaking Bad". I don't know why this choice was made. Maybe Carradine had variable rate's and charged less for not speaking. Anyway, it's a strange touch in a movie filled with them, such as having Tess' house filled with bird's in cage's. O'Neal is the biggest name in the picture and you know the budget wasn't there to pay him for an entire shoot, so he and Ingrid exit the picture early; axed to death in the Butler house where they are spending the night. This early portion of the movie flows well, with a fractured artistry to the pacing.
The unseen killer is black gloved and makes disturbing phone call's to the potential buyer's in true giallo fashion. "It's Marianne. Tell the mayor. Tell them all. I'm waiting in my father's house", they tell Tess in an unsettling whisper. Bob Clark's "Black Christmas" receives a lot of completely justified praise for bringing the tropes of the Italian giallo to the North American horror picture, but "Silent Night, Bloody Night" is every bit as indebted to the style. Strangely, Christmas horror movies seem to follow a rule of two's: this and "Black Christmas" were both released in 1974 and 1980 saw the release of Santa slasher's "Christmas Evil" and "Silent Night, Deadly Night".
Tony award winning New York actor James Patterson plays Jeffrey Butler, who has just arrived in town and may or may not be an escaped, wrench toting psycho. He befriends a suspicious, gun wielding Diane Adams, the mayor's daughter, played by statuesque, strong jawed, B-movie staple Mary Woronov. In a truly disturbing sequence, Tess arrives at the Butler mansion and is confronted by the killer who shines a flashlight in her face, the only light in the darkened house. The spotlight holds her frightened gaze as the whispering maniac addresses her before ending her life. Later, a handless ("His hand's...somebody cut off his hands") Carradine is accidentally hit and killed by Jeffrey as he and Diane drive to the house to investigate.
The house's grotesque, debauched, blood soaked history is told in a sepia tone nightmare flashback. Featuring such Warhol Superstar's as Ondine and Candy Darling, it's a sequence both beautiful and ugly, exceeding the low bar the movie has set for itself by such a degree that it's rather stunning. The score by Gershon Kingsley, the guy who wrote "Popcorn", is dreary and ominous; effective not just during this part but the entire picture.
With Woronov giving a scream queen performance for the ages during the surprisingly powerful, knockout ending, "Silent Night, Bloody Night" is the ugly New Yorker cousin of "Black Christmas"; rough looking and jittery from too many sleepless nights shooting speed with the Warhol crew. Candy Darling passed away the same month the movie came out, and James Patterson died two year's earlier when it was shot. It all adds to the general unhappy atmosphere of the picture. As anyone from the Northeast can tell you, winter isn't always beautiful, it's often bleak, barren and dirty; Theodore Gershuny's movie imperfectly captures that aspect.
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