DON'T OPEN TILL CHRISTMAS (1984)

Directors: Edmund Purdom, Alan Birkinshaw (as Al McGoohan), Ray Selfe (uncredited), Derek Ford (uncredited)

Writers: Derek Ford, Alan Birkinshaw (as Al McGoohan)

Producers: Dick Randall, Steve Minasian

Cast: Edmund Purdom, Belinda Mayne, Alan Lake, Mark Jones, Gerry Sundquist, Kelly Baker, Pat Astley, Kevin Lloyd, Wendy Danvers, Wilfred Corlett. Lawrence Harrington, Maria Eldrige, John Aston, Caroline Munro (as herself), Ricky Kennedy, Sid Wragg, Max Roman, George Pierce, Derek Ford, Adrian Black, Ashley Dransfield, Ray Marioni, Ken Halliwell, Paula Meadows, Derek Hunt, Des Dolan, Sarah Hope-Walker, Dick Randall, Keith Smith 

During the Christmas season in London, England, a maniac is killing anyone dressed as Santa Claus. Scotland Yard Inspector Ian Harris (Edmund Purdom) has been assigned to the case that seems to yield no clues and his lack of results places his job in jeopardy. 

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Dick Randall and Steve Minasian, the producers that had unleashed upon the world the unforgettably lurid and absurd Spanish production Pieces (1982), were not done milking the slasher craze cash cow. They went to England and tried ringing in the yuletide season by wringing some horror out of it with Don’t Open till Christmas.

It has to be stated up front that this is not a good movie. Randall and Minasian’s much-maligned and outrageous Pieces is a masterpiece in comparison. Despite the fact that these producers had already dabbled in the genre, it seems as though they were not very focused on figuring out how to rip off slasher films by learning what worked about them. That laziness or ignorance could have yielded some satisfying variations. Unfortunately, Don't Open till Christmas only contains the handful of ornaments that the moneymen and trend-followers thought should trim any horror film. Perhaps the idea was that anything with blood, boobs, and a lot of kills would be distinguished by its Christmas theme. However, other fright flicks had already raised hell on the holidays with more style, more interesting characters, and more satisfying plots.

A large share of the blame must belong to the succession of directors that this film went through before it was completed. Star Edmund Purdom began the direction on the film. Then at least three other people also directed scenes to finish the production. As a result, we are left with something that seems to be assembled from unrelated pieces. Even within certain sequences of a victim being stalked, it seems as if some of the footage that would help establish a scene or movement through a setting is missing or was never shot. Was this due to filmmaker incompetence, some footage being unusable, production delays resulting in not having the time or money to get the needed footage, or the chaos of a stop-and-start production going through so many directors that there was a lack of planning to get all of the needed shots? 

Another problem for this film is that none of its characters are the least bit interesting. The character we should have the most empathy with is Kate Briosky (Belinda Mayne), the daughter of an early Santa-suited victim in the story. Although she does prove to be the film’s most proactive character as she tries to discover some background about a person she has suspicions about, her scenes, like most others in the film, are not given much conflict or intrigue. She never gets a chance to distinguish herself as a character of any interest. No one else seems to have a life of any interest either. They are just supposed to move in front of the camera, say lines, and kill time between the mostly unrelated stalking-of-Santas scenes. 

In another example of the catch-as-catch-can scenes that make up this film, there is a musical cameo by former Hammer horror films beauty and Bond girl Caroline Munro. She plays herself performing a song with a band on stage during another stalking Santa sequence. Then she is never to be seen again. 

Don’t Open till Christmas does have a pretty substantial body count, but nearly every victim is a completely anonymous person. We don’t ever get to know them before they are wasted. Despite the variety of kill techniques, the murders usually seem rather perfunctory, because most of the victims are just a series of red-suited targets ready to be picked off. 

The one interesting kill scene works because there is a bit of word play between the performer (Kelly Baker) in a peep show booth and her shy Santa-suited customer (Wilfred Corlett). We become interested in the situation and are anticipating what kind of show this sexy girl might perform when we get the jolt of the killer striking again. 

Don’t Open till Christmas has one interesting distinction that contradicts one of the criticisms often directed at slasher films: The girls that get naked are going to get it. In this film one lovely lady is actually spared by the killer because he ogles and appreciates her naked beauty. Conversely, a later victim is denuded and left on display only after she is killed. 

Speaking of naked beauty, at the top of my wish list is Pat Astley as Sharon, the nude model that works up most of my interest in this flick. I am forever grateful she did not wait until Christmas to unwrap her prize package. Ultimately, the rest of Don’t Open till Christmas goes over like a lump of coal.

10 TO MIDNIGHT (1983)

Director: J. Lee Thompson

Writers: William Roberts, J. Lee Thompson (uncredited)

Producer: Lance Hool, Poncho Kohner

Cast: Charles Bronson, Andrew Stevens, Gene Davis, Lisa Eilbacher, Wilford Brimley, Geoffrey Lewis, Robert F. Lyons, June Gilbert, Jeana Keough (as Jeana Tomasina), Paul McCallum, Katrina Parish, Shawn Schepps, Bert Williams, Sydna Scott, Ola Ray, Iva Lane, Kelley Preston, Cynthia Reams, Cosie Costa, Barbara Pilavin, Beau Billingslea, James Keane, Carmen Filpi, Jeane Manson, Patti Tippo, Kyle Edward Cranston, Lynette Harrison, Jerome Thor, Breck Costin, Deran Sarafian, Neal Fleming, Daniel Ades, Shay Duffin, John Garwood, Beth Reinglas, Monica Ekblad 

In Los Angeles, Warren Stacy (Gene Davis) is a young, handsome loner that works in an office repairing typewriters. He stalks and kills a co-worker (June Gilbert) that rejected him. This victim was the daughter of friends to Homicide Detective Leo Kessler (Charles Bronson). The case becomes very personal to Kessler, who is increasingly frustrated with the legal restrictions that hamper his investigation.

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In the '80s, the Cannon Group churned out plenty of exploitation flicks in various genres. One of their biggest stars was Charles Bronson. He was always featured in violent crime thrillers that capitalized on the Bronson movie reputation he established as vigilante Paul Kersey in 1974’s Death Wish. 10 to Midnight again has a Bronson character dealing with the frustration of a legal system not able to deliver the certain justice that he desires. This time around, Bronson’s Homicide Detective Leo Kessler is part of that system. 

This crime thriller was probably influenced by the popularity of the early '80s slasher horror films, but this is not just a body count movie. The villain here is a serial killer whose identity we know all along, and it is this familiarity we have with his methods that holds our interest. We see Warren Stacy’s careful preparation to establish his alibi before he sets out on his deadly mission early in the story. Then our interest is maintained wondering how long he can get away with murder when Detective Leo Kessler almost immediately zeroes in on Warren Stacy as the main suspect. I guess Warren leaving porno mags and one weird-ass sex toy in his bathroom must be a dead giveaway.

Some snooty critics think that Bronson was just coasting along on his performances in this and many other films he starred in at this point in his career. I think he is just right in 10 to Midnight. Of course, he is CHARLES BRONSON. That gives him an immediate authority that he does not have to strain to achieve with his audience. Some guys just got it and that is certainly the case with Bronson. His character of Detective Leo Kessler is certainly sympathetic. He is dedicated to getting his man for all the right reasons, and we know that he should succeed if justice is to be served. The conundrum here is how far should he go to nail Warren Stacy? We have witnessed Stacy committing his crimes but Kessler has not. Kessler may have great instincts deciding that Stacy is the perpetrator he is after, but there is not much real evidence to back up his assumption. 

Gene Davis makes for a very offbeat villain as Warren Stacy. He is well-mannered, poised, fit, and clean cut. When being interrogated he seems almost childish as he tries to excuse his boyhood transgressions. Unfortunately, he has the inappropriate habits of streaking, stalking, and stabbing. Warren Stacy’s murderous rituals are his sexual outlets. 

Andrew Stevens, as Kessler’s rookie detective partner Paul McAnn, gains our sympathy as much as Bronson. After some initial friction, McAnn works well with Kessler and openly admires him. Yet young McAnn is still a by-the-book cop and has some doubts about the conduct of his older and bitter partner. This becomes the central issue of the whole film and gives the audience something to ponder after the end credits roll. His concerns are further complicated by his budding relationship with Kessler’s daughter Laurie.

As Laurie, Lisa Eilbacher is the terse chip-off-the-old-block daughter of Leo Kessler. Even though she resents her father’s career-before-family past, she shares his directness and somewhat confrontational humor. Her character helps to humanize our impression of Bronson’s Kessler and gives him greater urgency to stop the killer. 

My favorite performance is by Geoffrey Lewis as Defense Attorney Dave Dante. I love the way he coaches Warren Stacy before their court appearance. He represents the sleazy side of the court system that fills Kessler with so much bitterness. However, Dante also forces Kessler’s partner McAnn (and the movie audience) to contemplate the burden of proof that is necessary for a fair, if imperfect, legal system to function. 

This was the fourth of nine films that director J. Lee Thompson made starring Charles Bronson. The director of the acclaimed The Guns of Navarone (1961) and the intense and controversial Cape Fear (1962) was not getting much respect for his work in the '80s, but the old pro’s talent made his genre films efficient, slick, and entertaining productions. 

10 to Midnight has gained a cult reputation over the years. It straddles the line between horror and police procedural. It is further distinguished by the sexualized violence of its killer. Almost everything Warren Stacy does is his compensation for failing to have normal relationships with women: obscene phone calls are how he courts his victims, he showers and primps as if he is getting ready for a date before he sets out to do his stalking, he is nude when he consummates his conquest by penetration with a knife, the “rubbers” he wears are not for pregnancy prevention but are rubber gloves that prevent identification of him from fingerprints.

Many critics condemned 10 to Midnight in its day. It has the lurid elements of sex and violence that make any exploitation film a target for those wanting to blame the movies for society’s ills. Critics may have also had a real problem with the story’s conclusion. This movie’s climax is even more thought provoking today. While it is surprising and dramatically satisfying, it also leaves us wondering what we really want to happen next.