Psycho Santa 2003 Review
Psycho Santa 2003
Directed by: Peter Kier
Starring: Sarah Kendall, Frederick Flynn, Carol Kottenbrook
Review by Luisito Joaquín González
Can you believe that it’s almost Xmas already? Time just flies by. I am guessing that you’ve all got something slasher-tastic planned for the festive period. As per a SLASH above tradition, I wanted to post a few Christmassy entries, but thus far I could only locate this obscurity that I picked up a while back. I may be able to squeeze in one more before the big day, but as it stands this is your lot unfortunately 😦 Psycho Santa was released on a double DVD with Satan Claus, a movie so tough to sit through that I’ve postponed its review until next year when I’ll hopefully have built enough courage and will-power to try again. Despite the quality (or therefore lack of) of Claus, I was confident that this picture may deliver a shiny present that we’ll be excited about unwrapping.
On the long drive to a party, a boyfriend decides to share with his partner his knowledge of a psychopathic Santa that has stalked the local region for over a year. He tells her three separate urban legends about the maniac, who dressed from head to toe in the guise of St. Nick, is said to lurk amongst the woodland. We are soon about to learn if he is speaking the truth…
Ok, so for ten minutes, I really thought that we were in for something special. It began with a stalking sequence through a junk yard that incorporated some intelligent editing and interesting camera angles that were generally well conveyed. We then get to meet the two characters that will narrate us through the three stories and the plot becomes something of an anthology, with each segment further developing the background of our antagonist. The first on the list involves a pair of young women that have planned to have an Xmas slumber party at a remote cabin. They turn up to find that their friend isn’t around, but notice some of her presents under a tree and believe that she must’ve gone for a wander. Chick #1 is a voluptuous brunette that steals every shot with a cheeky grin and a plunging neckline, whilst her friend is not so attractive, ten-years older and has more piercings than a junkie’s arm. One of them decides to have a shower, leaving the other to head out and search for their missing amiga. Logic dictates which of them is the correct choice for a lengthy full-frontal nudity sequence, but already by this point, logic had gone into hiding along with the MIA girl.
What follows from there feels like an eternity of absolute nothingness. I am reminded of the time that I pulled a chica in a London bar that looked, from the impression of her tight-fitting top, to have boobs that would rival Kim Kardasian’s. After getting her back to a hotel, I quickly learned (she confessed actually) a lesson that will stay with me until the day that I shift off this mortal coil. Padding, in almost all walks of life, is criminal. So the girls drink vodka and dance whilst an ominous someone looks on through POV in a scene that could have been clipped by at least five minutes. The photography had been good, the scoring had built tension, but the net result was a humongous mound of asbestos-laden boredom. Finally the door bursts open and I was convinced that all would be salvaged by us seeing a couple of gruesome slashings. Instead we cut back to the storyteller who, in the most flat and boring way possible, TELLS US how they were brutally killed. Eh?
Anyway, we skip on to the next anthology ‘installment’, which involves the least tense burglary in the history of crime. The filmmakers throw us a smart gimmick by giving us a blind homeowner (with a bikini-body?) that almost catches the robbers in the act. I guess that the sequence may have worked if it had been conveyed with an ounce of common sense, but it took me a while to even realise that the young lady in question had defective vision. After she has been dealt with, the invaders find a locked basement that houses our psycho Santa. He slaughters one of them (off screen) and again we have to be told what happened to the other by our narrator. The bogeyman’s escape and subsequent stabbing of a hapless St Nick leads to the third and final story of the picture.
Now this one, perhaps more than any other, really sums up all that’s wrong with Psycho Santa. A brother and sister, that are driving through some remote woodland, pull over after suffering some convenient problems with their automobile. They get out and begin to walk… and walk… and walk… and walk…. And then, walk some more, until eventually they come across our nut job who proceeds to (not) kill them. I mean, what the hell? Is this the mad slasher with the heart of gold or something? Now don’t get me wrong, there are a couple of murders in this movie that I didn’t mention (including a young kid), but the majority of the runtime is outrageously tedious filler. Scenes that should have been twenty-seconds long are stretched to five-minutes and to be honest you wouldn’t miss anything if you just fast forwarded through them. Much like my experience with the girl with the stuffed brassiere that I told you about earlier, padding to this extent is a total rip-off and no one likes a cheater.
Psycho Santa was directed by a guy by the name of Peter Keir and his billing was the most intriguing thing about the picture. You see, Keir has a couple of credits on the IMDB and two of them are films that were scored by Steve Sessions, the director of Torment. This got me thinking, did Sessions, exasperated by the poor quality of this film, use that name as a pseudonym? I tried finding some info about Keir on the net but came up with nothing at all. This leads me to believe that Sessions, a capable director, was pressured into padding out this film by an external influence. Perhaps the producers gave him a short shooting schedule and a runtime that needed to be fulfilled…? He then watched the net result and released it under an alias. I wouldn’t blame him
Whilst it’s tough to know for sure if my hypothesis is true, it would explain the inclusion of some deft visuals and a superb score, which I know Sessions has the ability to provide. Unfortunately there just wasn’t enough of either to overcome the disjointed and mind-numbing mid-section. We are promised a conclusion that we never get and all that we’re left with is a bloated boat that sinks after ten minutes and never bobs back out of the depths. Avoid it like you would a potential partner with suspiciously stuffed undergarments…
Killer Guise: √√√√
Final Girl √