Santa Claws

What Blood Shack was to Ray Dennis Steckler, Santa Claws is to a collective best refered to as "the makers of Night of the Living Dead, whose names weren't George A Romero". Its insultingly bad as an actual movie, but exerts a morbid curiosity as a kind of pseudo-documentary on the lives of those involved. If you want to see Night of the Living Dead actors decades after their brush with fame, Santa Claws trots out Marilyn Eastman, Karl Hardman, Bill Hinzman and John Russo, in scenes that look like they were shot in their own Pittsburgh homes and places of work. The younger cast is represented by lots of wannabe scream queens, and John Mowod, the male lead from Hinzman's Flesh Eater/Zombie Nosh. Mowod is chiefly memorable for his resemblance to both Paul McCartney and Sylvester Stallone, and should have probably sought out a career as a celebrity impersonator rather than an actor. Its all basically an excuse to publicize 'Scream Queens Illustrated' Russo's horror themed T&A mag that promoted the boobs, bums and careers of various Scream Queen actresses of the time. Santa Claws is mainly set at the Scream Queens Illustrated offices, where you get to see Hinzman and Hardman at their day jobs, shooting jerk off material for the magazine. Natch' the setting also allows for lingering shots of various Scream Queens Illustrated and Night of the Living Dead merchandise.

Occasionally Santa Claws remembers it is meant to be a horror film, and begrudgingly tears itself away from the T&A and self-promotion, in favour of focusing on a lackluster killer dressed in a Santa outfit who murders various secondary characters at the Scream Queens offices with a gardening fork. Barely anyone appears concerned by how sleazy and third rate they are portraying themselves as. The only possible exception being Scream Queen Debbie Rochon, whose role has the feel of a good publicity exercise. Not only is Rochon's character, Raven Quinn, portrayed as a scream queen with a heart of gold, but she is also a single mother whose life is being made a misery by her scumbag ex-husband (played by the Macca/Rambo lookalike) yet always makes herself available to even the most 'needy' of her fans. A credibility straining aspect to the film that also provides its biggest laugh. If you thought the Caroline Munro/Joe Spinell romance in Maniac was a little hard to swallow, here Rochon's character not only lets an unkempt, obviously obsessed, anti-social weirdo into her private life, but lets him babysit her kids as well !!!

I had pretty low expectations for this. On paper this seems like a typical cheap B-grade slasher-horror film. In reality it's even worse.

It is cheap and a slasher-horror but calling it B-grade would be flattery. The plot is very basic and what there is doesn't make much sense. Production values are incredibly poor. Direction is woeful: some of the scenes seem more like a slapstick comedy than a drama.

Dialogue is laughable and, allied with this, performances are poor. Worst of all is the guy who plays the slasher-murderer. So bad you'd think it is a comedy.

Nothing positive at all about this movie except than it is quite short (83 minutes) so at least the pain of watching this is over quickly.

I watched this film and found it to be somewhat ok, and even better than some big budget multimillion dollar films.

YES, it does have problems, many...infact.

The modelling scenes were just boring annd bland, even for T&A gratuity shots and served no purpose.

Wayne's character was poorly created and developed, but somewhat funny.

Love Rayven...maybe it's the name...but over all, for a movie that was filmed with less than the cost of a new minivan, this is an ok film, *considering it was free to watch...I certainly wouldn't have paid for this.

Despite my life-long romance with the horror genre, then I had never seen this movie before, nor actually ever heard about it. But as I stumbled upon it here in 2024, by random luck, I opted to sneak it into my Christmas movie marathon, yes of sappy romantic Christmas movies, just to break the string of endless sap.

However, I have to say that the movie's cover didn't exactly paint writer and director John A. Russo's 1996 movie as a particularly great movie. And in all honesty, I harbored zero expectations to the movie. But then again, maybe writer and director John A. Russo had something grand up his sleeve.

The storyline in the movie was nearly non-existing. So it wasn't as if I had been missing out on a particularly grand horror movie experience here. Writer John A. Russo failed to deliver anything impressive with the script and storyline.

Essentially, the movie felt like little more than a sad excuse for John A. Russo to show off naked ladies.

The only performer on the cast list that I was familiar with was Debbie Rochon, and it is only because I've seen sufficiently many low budget movies. The acting performances in the movie were fair, despite the fact of the actors and actresses having a simplistic script to work with.

The special effects in the movie were exactly that, special. The gunshot wounds were laughably bad, as were the rake puncture wounds. It was essentially nothing but fake blood placed in circles at where the wounds were supposed to be. For a movie made it 1996, it was incredibly amateurish and ridiculous to look at.

"Santa Claws" was a movie that snuck in under the radar unnoticed, and it will just as quietly fade into oblivion and never be seen again.

My rating of writer and director John A. Russo's 1996 movie lands on a two out of ten stars.

During the Christmas holidays, a B-movie scream queen/pinup model is stalked by an obsessed, murderously psychotic fan...

Blah blah blah. You know the score, sight unseen: women get naked, people die. Apparently the raison d'être for SANTA CLAWS was to plug the fan magazine writer/director John Russo was publishing at the time, "Scream Queen" — it gets a very prominent mention. In the film, the magazine staff is producing a low budget horror video called "Scream Queen Christmas" — try saying that three times fast! — starring B-movie celebrity Raven Quinn (Debbie Rochon). Her most ardent admirer, the disturbed young man (Grant Cramer) who lives next door, spraypaints a cheap Santa costume black and goes on a killing spree with a garden weasel. (Really. A frickin' garden weasel.) SANTA CLAWS touts its lineage to the original 1968 NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD as a selling point but you wouldn't know it from watching this cheap-looking, amateurish piece of crap. (Russo co-wrote NOTLD with George Romero and directed the minor cult fave MIDNIGHT; three members of the NOTLD cast have small roles in the flick.)

Rochon, whose films have never really proved worthy of her talent, is the only real reason to endure it. Not only is she beautiful, she acts circles around everyone else in the cast, who are just plain terrible. (Cramer's over-the-top rantings are good for a laugh or two, though.) Gore is practically nonexistent; only the frequent nudity, served up as Christmas-themed striptease acts for the video shoot, will appeal to exploitation junkies. Rochon doesn't whip out her love muffins until the final twenty minutes but she's almost worth the wait. For best effect, I recommend turning off the cheesy soundtrack and playing the naughty Yule classic "Santa Baby" while Debbie's doing her thing.