Non aprite prima di Natale!

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.

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.

It's refreshing to know that Americans aren't the only ones who can turn out crappy slasher movies. The same British team that did this one also made one of the more idiotic American slasher movies of the 1980's ("Slaughter High"), but here they abandon the stateside setting and the faux American accents to embrace their inherent Britishness while still making a movie that is every bit as inept and pathetic as their "American" effort.

In the seedier parts of London a mad killer is slashing men dressed as Santa Clause. Why? Believe me, you don't want to know, but never has there been a greater collection of drunken, lecherous reprobates than the Santa victims in this movie (Don't they screen their prospective Santa Claus candidates in London?). Between the drunks, potential child molesters, and garden-variety creeps, there isn't a unworthy victim among them. And if there is a mad Santa killer on the loose, why do they all insist on going everywhere dressed in their Santa duds? One sap even wears his costume into a peep show where (in a scene that, I think, is meant to be funny) he tells the stripper that he's not "the real one." Then there is nude fashion model who takes a guy out in the alley for a quickie dressed only in a Santa coat, and of course, meets the killer who luridly runs his knife down her nude body. (I'd complain about the gratuitous misogyny here, but it's one of the best scenes in the movie). On the gore side, we have an grossly overweight pervert Santa who is castrated in a urinal (a metaphor for the movie as a whole perhaps?)

Aside from the aforementioned gore and crumpet, this movie is mostly just boring. I'd term it as a London-based X-mas version of "The New York Ripper", but it's much more dull than tasteless. The only good thing I can say about it is I don't regret having watched it (mostly because it came as part of a dirt cheap 50-movie DVD compilation I recently bought). Don't go too far out of your way for this one though.

One of the most troubled and delayed productions in horror cinema history is about a killer on the loose in London killing anybody wearing a Santa Claus suit.

One of the most cruel and mean spirited films ever made with a lousy ending and no payoff what-so-ever for sitting threw 90mins. of explicit murders with no plot, lousy direction (rumor has it three directors worked on this) & awful acting (watch for a silly cameo by Caroline Munro). Also film suffers from not knowing what it wants to be, a seedy sex thriller, a detective movie, or a drive in thriller. Rated R; Extreme Graphic Violence, Nudity, Sexual Situations, and Profanity.

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.