Between Die Hard and Home Alone, fending off intruders in a single location has become a Christmas tradition on par with downing a few eggnogs and arguing about tax reform with older relatives. The new action picture Violent Night, which invokes both aforementioned films by name as well as with constant all-caps homage, fits its seasonal siege into the post-John Wick beat-em-up mold co-originated by producer David Leitch. This could and should and sometimes manages to be a felicitous pairing of genre with gimmick, a novelty of theme proving vital to prolonging any winning formula. And just as Gene Kelly or Jackie Chan continuously innovated fresh shtick by incorporating unexpected props and environments into their high-physicality routines, so too does the rough-hewn Santa Claus (David Harbour) leading the counteroffensive get some good mileage out of the arsenal of decorative bric-a-brac at his disposal.
Not to be a Scrooge, but the occasional eye-gouge with a tree-topper star or string-light garotte only lends a frosty air of resourcefulness to a film with coal for brains. Any cleverness stops with its improvised weaponry, the sufficiently brutal smackdowns wedged in a half-baked plot like so many chunks of candied apricot in an underdone fruitcake. Beneath the coagulated layer of maroon blood, this merry massacre wants to share in the goodwill toward men of the yuletide fare not courting an R rating, as it reacquaints an embittered Santa with the Christmas spirit and a deadbeat dad with the importance of family. Between the perfunctory sentimentality tacked on to the final act and the sophomoric yuks out of the Deadpool Book of Bad Words, however, there’s not a lot to thank St Nick for this year.
