(from left) David Harbour and John Leguizamo on the set of Violent Night.
Courtney Howard // Film Critic
VIOLENT NIGHT
Rated R, 1 hour 41 minutes
Directed by: Tommy Wirkola
Starring: David Harbour, John Leguizamo, Alex Hassell, Alexis Louder, Leah Brady, Beverly D’Angelo, Edi Patterson, Cam Gigandet, Alexander Elliot
With VIOLENT NIGHT, the magic of Christmas becomes a bloody, crowd-pleasing riot in director Tommy Wirkola’s hands. It’s a fucking gift. Blending the brutality of a hard-edge actioner with the fantastical fun of a family-friendly flick, this mashup of DIE HARD and HOME ALONE is centered on a fractured family who, with the help of Santa Claus, is forced to fend off a gaggle of mercenaries on Christmas Eve. Basically, it’s the movie every kid (and kids at heart!) will want to sneak into this holiday season.
Jason Lightstone (Alex Hassell) has several problems on his hands – the least of which being that he’s traveling home to begrudgingly spend the holidays with his loathsome, obnoxiously wealthy extended family. He’s also anticipating telling his ball-busting mother Gertrude (Beverly D’Angelo) and his precocious young daughter Trudy (Leah Brady) that he’s getting divorced from his long-suffering wife Linda (Alexis Louder). With those he dearly loves in tow, he predicts they’ll get caught in the crossfire between his merciless mom, arrogant sister Alva (Edi Patterson), her narcissistic actor hubby Morgan (Cam Gigandet) and social-media influencer tween son Bert (Alexander Elliot). Little do any of them suspect that the shots fired that chilly evening will be literal.
Just as a jaded, disillusioned Santa Claus (David Harbour) passes out drunk in a far-off room whilst making his standard Christmas Eve rounds, a group of heartless assassins descends on the remotely-located compound. The terrible troupe, all sporting holiday-themed code names, is led by Mr. Scrooge (John Leguizamo), who hopes to rob Trudy of her ill-gotten $300 million hidden in the home’s high tech safe. As the callous crew attempts to crack the codes and other familial fissures occur, Santa awakens to havoc, witnessing this family’s troubling turmoil. Cajoled by Trudy (think a reverse MIRACLE ON 34th STREET relationship dynamic, but with walkie-talkies), he agrees to help rescue these lost souls by kicking ass and crossing names off his naughty list.
This reimagining of jolly old St. Nick is definitely not your parents’ version of the iconic figure. Here, the traditional Coca-Cola-patented façade cloaks a Viking-era, tattooed warrior that gradually manifests to his full John McClane-ish potential. Harbour sells the silly with absolute sincerity and pathos. He’s equally adept at carrying the propulsive action-forward scenes as well as the more tender moments shared with Brady. Leguizamo also demonstrably holds his own, highlighting the specks of humanity hidden within his antagonist. He delivers a three-dimensional character, where we see the true motives behind his Hans Gruber-esque scheme.
Pat Casey and Josh Miller’s screenplay is littered with top-shelf, hilariously satiating lunacy, from its hijinks-laced, Rube Goldberg-engineered kills in the woodshed to its hard R, Wet-Bandits-style shenanigans (which shockingly aren’t too far off from Kevin McAllister’s demented pranks). One festive bout of fisticuffs even hilariously leads Santa to bandage his bleeding wounds with wrapping paper and bow-tied ribbon. In between some of the more predictable scenarios involving the family dramatics, which get a little clunky and too tidy in the third act, the writers and Wirkola showcase gobs of ingenuity when it comes to action construction, character spoofs and relationship interplay. Plus, they pepper the picture with loads of uproariously funny catchphrases, further putting a spin on the traditional.
Below the line players are also fit to entertain. Dominic Lewis’ shrewdly composed pieces play like a brilliant parody of a John Williams score, so much so audiences will think it might be the beloved maestro undercover. These aural delights gleefully match Wirkola’s visual witticism, which is inspired mightily by John McTiernan and paired with his own trademark verve. Matthew Weston’s cinematography vacillates between aping DIE HARD’s edgy and HOME ALONE’s effused palettes, both coming together in harmony.
Doing what many of the 87North productions have done, this cleverly conceived feature hints at a larger universe, giving it further imaginative ideas to execute and possibly emulate. This one is so fun, and such a blessed reprieve from the kooky holiday romcoms delivered in this seasonal marketplace, that instead of singing “Oh Holy Night,” it’ll have you joyfully exclaiming “Oh holy shit!”
Grade: 4 out of 5
VIOLENT NIGHT opens in theaters on December 2.
