Don't Open Till Christmas

A very British entry into the 1980's slasher cannon. It feels as if the EastEnders writers thought that they'd give jumping on the slasher bandwagon a go, but lacking any real insight into the genre they get it a bit wrong at most turns!

Lacking the perkiness of most of its American cousins and the style of the Italian gialli, the film is nevertheless more aligned to the giallo in terms of structure and plot, police procedural action and a whodunit angle with numerous characters.

It gets pluses for the mask, a variety of amusing kills, the London Dungeon scene and the sheer curiosity factor given that UK slashers of this era are relatively rare. There is a bargain basement TV actors look and feel throughout, like a fairly straight BBC version of a slasher film. London looks suitably gross, seedy and grotty. A few off the wall moments keep it fairly enjoyable and worth a look for fans of sleazy, cult, obscure trash.

I knew from previous reviews that "Don't Open Till Christmas" would be bad, but I didn't realise just HOW bad! But perhaps that's just as well. The 'story' is so sleazy and mean-spirited that the film would be deeply nasty if it were well-made. As it is, it is just laughable.

Even on the most basic levels, "Don't Open Till Christmas" fails to work. The various murders, though gory, are suspenseless. We know nothing of the victims, we know when the killer's about to strike (so there is no surprise) and the direction is hamfisted. The giallo elements fall flat because neither we nor the police are given any clues and indeed the police investigation never really comes to a conclusion.

Parts of the film simply don't make any sense. The timeframe is all to hell, for one thing. Early on, a newspaper headline reads "Only three killing days left to Christmas", but then four or five days pass and we're only at Christmas Eve! Lines like "Is there a pattern here?", after 3 Santas have been gorily dispatched, beggar belief. It also seems unlikely that people would still be happily wandering around London in Santa costumes if a psychopathic Claus-slayer WERE on the loose!

The direction is inept, the dialogue ludicrous and the acting desperately flat. And why does Mark Jones, as one of the police investigators, dress like a Twenties matinee idol? Perhaps his flamboyant costumes are an effort by the makers to disguise attention from the threadbare sets!

Nevertheless, "Don't Open Till Christmas" does have a certain historical interest as the very last gasp of the low-budget British horror film. The involvement of Derek Ford gives it a tenuous link to the gory glory days of Compton and Tigon. And it's amazing to think that it was made in 1984, the time when Goldcrest were at their height. What a contrast between such genteel efforts as "Chariots of Fire" and "The Dresser" and this sadistic little affair!

A terrible movie on many levels. The plot is absolutely ridiculous and outlandish. The acting mediocre at best. The premise involves people that dawn Santa costumes during the holidays being unceremoniously killed one by one. Therein lies the problem; lack of ceremony. A slasher movie without ceremony is like a romance film without a kiss. Santa after Santa is killed. However, we don't know who they are, we don't care, and suspense doesn't fit anywhere is this poorly constructed equation. The murders themselves are not doted on and lack any imagination whatsoever. Going back to the story line, logic is totally thrown out the window at every misstep. With an entire city under a terrifying siege, why on earth do people continuing to put on these ridiculous costumes, only to seemingly wander right into the hands of the killer? Had this been handled by a competent writer and director, not to mention the addition of a budget, any budget, there's actually potential to this very anemic holiday horror.

This movie is pretty lame, but not unwatchable. The acting is cheesy and the killing scenes are ultra cheese, but I did like the killer, his face (mask) was cool and when he talked to the girl he chained up his voice was great. It was an interesting concept but the makers didn't maake it solid enougth, a lot of loose ends, and holes in the plot. The story is Somebody with very little Christmas spirit is killing anyone in a Santa suit one London holiday season, and Scotland Yard has to stop him before he makes his exploits an annual tradition. It's a very cheesy flick, special effects arn't great but a good watch if you like 80's slashers.

My review was written in December 1984 after a Times Square screening.

"Don't Open Till Christmas" is a poorly made horror picture about a nut killing various Father Christmases (the British version of Santa Claus). Filmed a year ago in London by Rome-based producer Dick Randalll and Massachusetts exhibitor Steve Minasian (latter one of the backers of Paramount's hit "Friday the 13th" film series), pic serves as a tawdry star vehicle for vet British character actor Edmund Purdom, who also directed.

Sad postscript here is that the maniacal killer is played by Alan Lake, who committed suicide several months ago, reportedly despondent following the detath of his wife, Diana Dors. His sinister thesping in the final reels is the only thing that perks up this dull cheapie.

Purdom portrays Chief Inspector Harris, a harried Scotland Yard detective assigned to track down the nut who is killing Santas all over London. He ultimately is taken off the case for lack of results, replaced by his assistant Sgt. Powell (Mark Jones), who likes to wear a raffish hat and otherwise seems to be auditioning for the lead role in the tv show "Dr. Who".

Chief suspects, besides Purdom himself, include Giles (Lake), who pops in and out as an odd-looking newspaper reporter, and Cliff (Gerry Sundquist), present at several of the Santa attacks including one that murders the father of his girlfriend Kate (Belinda Mayne). Episodic presentation has a few okay twists until revelation that the maniac was traumatized as a boy at Christmastime.

Poorly scripted by British action and porno filmmaker Derek Ford, "Don't" is in slightly better taste than the recently notorious U. S. pic "Silent Night, Deadly Night". Its chief offenses include portraying numerous London Father Christmases as drunks plus a scene of one of them getting emasculated while relieving himself in a public restroom. To helmle Purdom's credit, a genre switcheroo has the iterated bloodletting directe at men, with vulnerable women only in danger as witnesses to the psycho's crimes.

Tech credits are ultra-cheap, with lots of shooting via available light and real-life extras ogling the camera on location. The beauteous British horror and fantasy film star Caroline Munro puts in a cameo appearance performing a rock song and dance number.