AJ Reid

Writer of Speculative Fiction and Masher of Notes for the Broken-Hearted

Tag: Christmas

Dark Christmas Films

Christmas lights are going up, along with burglary rates, energy bills and collective blood pressure. It must be that magical time of year again, so let’s celebrate with a list of festive films for the broken idealists among us who need their fix of sarcasm and cynicism to keep them going over the following month.

Krampus (2015)

80s nostalgia seems to be a thing at the moment and although Stranger Things was more comprehensive in its fanboy-like homages, Krampus does it with delicious dark humour, strong performances from the cast, snappy dialogue and a creepy take on the Christmas redemption story, which all makes for a fun ride for adults wishing to relive the excitement of watching Gremlins for the first time, or for older kids who still want to believe in Father Christmas.  Special mention must go to the delightful animation sequence in which the grandmother flashes back to post-war Germany to explain her connection to St. Nicholas’ malevolent counterpart.

Scrooged (1988)

Something of a spiritual predecessor to Bad Santa and a truly 80s New York take on Dickens, this films sees the brilliant Bill Murray on fine form, dishing out sarcasm and meanness as a dastardly TV company exec.  The sentimentality is offset by surprisingly dark and imaginative dimension-hopping sequences with the ghosts, all of which are met at first by an unimpressed, sardonic Murray, who soon finds himself forced to alter his outlook, as Scrooge does in A Christmas Carol.  Karen Allen puts in a wonderful performance as Murray’s old girlfriend, whose love and generous nature helps to bring him in from the cold, while the family scenes of Christmas possess an air of warmth and authenticity that will pull at even the most rusty heartstrings.

In Bruges (2008)

Debatable as to whether it’s a true Christmas film, but there are myriad aspects of Michael McDonagh’s 2008 masterpiece in which to revel as a seeker of dark festive fayre.  Let’s start with the performances from the cast.  Previous to watching this film, I disliked Colin Farrell quite unfairly on account of a most untrustworthy upper lip and a dastardly set of eyebrows. However, his portrayal of a bungling, guilt-ridden hitman in this film was enough to win me over and I’ve enjoyed his work ever since (even if the eyebrows get a bit hammy now and again).  Given the perfect foil in Brendan Gleeson’s character, a seasoned veteran of the same dirty game, the two set the screen alight with their chemistry and along with the haunting, atonal piano soundtrack and “fairytale” scenery of Bruges, keep our attention and build our sympathies until Ralph Fiennes shows up and steals the show briefly with his pantomime, psychopathic gangster, Harry.  When Harry turns up in Bruges, the film accelerates into action thriller territory and we are rewarded with an electrifying chase through the cobbled streets until the rather brutal climax.  Sacrifice, redemption and forgiveness are all themes explored by the film, but what sets it apart is a curious, subtle acknowledgement of the cycle of life and the sanctity of family.  By their nature, existentialists are usually rather miserable, but here they will find enough mischievous musings on the void to raise a wry smile at the very least.

Gremlins (1984)

Cosy, friendly, small American town subverted by a plague of creatures can only be saved by small town boy and his girl.  Sounds like a B-movie plot?  That’s because it is, but it is executed with such flair by cast and crew that we couldn’t help but be beguiled and terrified by it back in the 80s.  The microwave and the blender death scenes were legendary amongst schoolkids because of the parental disgust factor.  Subversion is a vital ingredient in nearly every film in this list and the Gremlins symbolise that perfectly: grimy green, fanged, homicidal reptilians that reproduce asexually and were considered to be the cause of mechanical failures in aeroplanes during World War Two, according to the legend recounted by the memorable Dick Miller as Murray Futterman.  If people really do crave the catharsis of the utter chaos and destruction of Christmas in their viewing material, then Gremlins is the one, even taking down a department store in the proceedings.  The more politically-inclined amongst you might be able to divine some symbolic meaning from this, but for me, comparing gremlins to Communists might be a bridge too far.  Maybe Anarchists …?

The Ref (known as Hostile Hostages in UK) (1994)

Motormouth comedian Denis Leary goes into sarcasm overload in this black comedy following the events of a failed burglary on Christmas Eve, once again in a snow-covered, small American town.  It’s a smarter, more highbrow take on the Christmas crime capers we know and love, largely thanks to a good script, Leary’s comedic timing and Kevin Spacey’s double act with Judy Davis as his neurotic, unfaithful wife.  It is remarkable how similar Spacey’s character is to the now-legendary Lester Burnham character he portrayed in American Beauty, but to neither film’s detriment.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  As I mentioned earlier, subversion is key to the functioning of most of these films and here, it takes the typically John Hughesian house from Home Alone and delivers the criminal into the midst of a family that’s corroding under the emptiness of modern life, even though ostensibly, they have everything we found so seductive in those onscreen mansions.  A delightfully mischievous and sardonic romp, especially fun if you like Denis Leary.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles (1987)

Technically set during Thanksgiving, but we don’t get that here in the UK for obvious reasons, so I think most us Brits just pretend that it’s set at Christmas so as not to confuse ourselves.  Steve Martin and John Candy are the prudish businessman and free-wheeling shower ring salesman who are thrust together by fate to get home for Thanksgiving.  It isn’t long before Martin’s stiff upper lip is wobbled by Candy’s incessant small-talk and oafish mannerisms and John Hughes begins really pitting them against each other in a series of set pieces, which will keep you laughing until the twist, carrying the emotional punch we have come to know to be typical of Hughes.  Themes of tolerance, compassion and co-operation underpin the spiritual message of the film, which serves as a helpful reminder to us all, come Christmas Dinner.

Bad Santa (2003)

Billy Bob Thornton explores the depths of the human condition whilst dressed in a Santa outfit, but it’s Bernie Mac and John Ritter who provide most of the laughs: Ritter need only react with a facial expression to keep us giggling with his sublime, understated performance, while Mac delivers his dialogue with such ferocity and cadence, that we can’t help but wait for the next vicious insult or epithet with bated breath.  Many would tell you that the crucible for this story is the department store, but the real pickle in which Billy Bob’s character Willy finds himself is human relationships, from which he has distanced himself to the point of developing an anti-social personality disorder.  Will the Christmas spirit help Willy rediscover his humanity?

Trapped in Paradise (1994)

One of Nicholas Cage’s less celebrated films, which has always taken a critical beating – probably not unfairly, to some degree.  However, if you need a film that will not tax the old grey matter too much and provide some cheeky laughs, you could do a lot worse.  Although the humour is brash and crude in places, the message is uplifting and the cosy, small-town atmosphere evoked by director George Gallo is most seductive.  Nicholas Cage is over the top as always (would we have him any other way?), but thankfully, there are no bees or wicker men involved here, and his style is well complimented by the Stooge-like Dana Carvey and Jon “who, me?” Lovitz.  The show is admirably stolen by their foul-mouthed mother, played by Florence Stanley, who torments her meathead, no-necked kidnappers to tears.

If you’re in the market for a dark Christmas story you’ve not heard before, try my take: A Smaller Hell.  Based on my own experiences of working in a department store, it follows the story of a disillusioned man who doesn’t realise that he is being pulled into a dangerous game by his new boss – a game that will change his life forever, come the night of the Christmas party.

Facebooktwitterredditpinterest

Who is Dianne Doyle?

Dianne Doyle is the antagonist of my novella A Smaller Hell: based on a department store manager I worked with.  She used to get kicks out of reprimanding staff and subverting our relationships.  A maestro of negativity, she’d often lure us into making mistakes, just so that she could degrade us.

The longer I worked there, the more intriguing she became.  She used the workplace hierarchy for her own ends, few of which were concerned with profit margins.

This, and certain other experiences led me to study psychology in a bid to demystify cruelty.  When writing A Smaller Hell, I took an example of a philanthropist in Joseph Williamson and summoned him in the founder of the department store: Commander Clarence Tanner.  The idea was to have Dianne Doyle be a personification of corporate psychopathy in contrast to Tanner’s long-standing philanthropist.

I find it creepy when people say something morally dubious is “good for the economy”, as if it were an idol we should worship. Tanner was the antithesis of that and the waning of his philosophy in the world scares me.

Dianne Doyle is the face that I’ve given to those fears: a mischievous authoritarian, whose greatest act of deception unfolds to reveal that:

“The Devil can sometimes do a very gentlemanly thing.” – Robert Louis Stevenson

Facebooktwitterredditpinterest

A Smaller Hell Only $2.99 For Limited Time

Facebooktwitterredditpinterest

Merry Christmas

wooden

Tanner’s Department Store Christmas Giveaway

 

Available to everyone over 18 until the 15th Dec.  The wild story of Tanner’s Department Store and the Christmas that changed a town forever.  Click on the picture or HERE to get yours now before they’re all gone!  Merry Christmas.

Facebooktwitterredditpinterest

Working in a Department Store

It wasn’t that bad.  My father often tells me about his father’s job as a steeplejack: that sounds bad.  At least I was indoors and not teetering hundreds of feet above the cold, hard ground.

Steeplejack_on_a_chimney_in_1960_arp

At the interview, I didn’t have a panic attack and smash up a waiting room as Tony Black does in A Smaller Hell.  Instead, I was sneered at by a snotty manager for ten minutes before she found out where I went to school and then it was all la-de-da-do-you-know-so-and-so.  I knew a few people and suddenly I was the perfect candidate.  Never once did she mention the exam grades I had sweated over, or the money I’d raised for charity, or my love of Satie, just the fact that it was lovely to have another Old Birkonian on board.  Jolly good show.

I was being welcomed into the inner sanctum of an institution.  The lethal polished floors and automatic doors; the toy guns; the sparkling jewellery displays; the luxurious waft of the perfume counters; the smell of the posh Rombout’s coffee and Welsh Rarebit in the cafe.  I was usually accompanied by my nan, who would take me there on the bus while my parents were at work.

At 6 years old, the Toy department was sacred ground, scented with erasers, bubblegum and gunpowder from the caps for the toy guns.  With the acquisition of a new toy, adventure inevitably followed.  At 10 years old, I became obsessed with writing equipment, and would often be shooed away from peering into the glowing glass cabinets.  By 16, I was Christmas shopping there with my first girlfriend.  We wore scarves and puffer jackets, and I remember her fingers feeling skinny even through her rainbow-coloured wool gloves.  She had long black hair, pale skin and green eyes.  Her fine cheekbones were always rouged by the cold weather and she shivered a lot in her rusty Nissan Micra with no heater, which made her look fragile and beautiful.

And so at 24, I found myself working in this castle of memories.  And like every good castle, it had a hierarchy within its walls – and like every good hierarchy, it had its tyrants, climbers and victims.  It was very much like returning to school.  Every morning, I would feel the polyester of my tie catch on the callouses of my left hand’s fingertips: a stark reminder that the dizzying heights of yesteryear – with its six-figure record deal offers, hotel rooms in Manhattan, yachts in Marina Del Rey, famous rock lawyers and all the rest of it – were long gone.  Every morning was soundtracked by a lonely drizzle and painted entirely in grey.

Nevertheless, every day, I tightened my polyester noose and bought my bus ticket.  Every day, The George and Dragon’s warm wafts of stale ale would greet me on the way in and out of work.  Every day, I would get told off for being late back in from my lunch break, even though it would be a matter of seconds.  Every day, I would fantasise about windmilling through the China and Crystal departments like someone on day release, just to see the look on my boss’ face.

Every day.

Facebooktwitterredditpinterest

© 2020 AJ Reid

Theme by Anders NorénUp ↑