So, next up is 2012’s 12 Disasters of Christmas, a bonkers effort from director Steven R. Monroe in which some mad genius melds the concept of the 2012 Mayan prophecy of the apocalypse with the holiday song ‘12 Days of Christmas,’ shake it around in the SyFy cocktail shaker and see what comes out. The result is shamelessly daft and all the better for it.
The “five golden rings” of the song turn out to be real life mystic Mayan rings that will grant power to a “Chosen One”, allowing them to prevent the End of Days on 21/12/2012. The messianic “One” turns out to be just-turned-18, plucky teen Jacey (Magda Apanowicz) who just saw her grandmother die, impaled by an icicle that fell from the sky. Luckily, Grannie lived long enough to reveal that all the birds dying and blood that’s been pouring from the taps just might be harbingers of doom. Oh, and Jacey’s mum is called Mary (Holly Elissa Dignard) and dad is called Joseph (Ed Quinn). Got it? Her name is ‘Jacey’. As in ‘J.C.’? You get it.
Turns out Jacey is of Mayan descent and, handily, the rings all happen to be hidden in and around her little North American home town called, yes, Calvary. What are the odds?
The film does well to cram in many absurd, visually impressive acts of God. We get hurricanes, ice storms, lightning, earthquakes, even volcanoes. It’s a blast. My favourite bit comes when Jacey’s brother Peter (Ryan Grantham) looks up at the mountains and cryptically proclaims “Of course! Twelve drummers drumming…Twelve peaks!”, right before the mountains all erupt as volcanoes. Or maybe the best part is where the mayor (the mayors always seem to get it in these things) gets zapped by a string of Christmas lights that seem to take on a life of their own. I don’t remember that particular plague in the bible, but I’m sure glad I got to see it here.
Frustratingly, the offer on our house falls through today, the news being delivered in a solemn estate agent phone call as I’m literally packing boxes for the move. This feels like my own personal cataclysm of Christmas, crushing my spirit and leaving me miserable as all hell, so watching something as flimsy and as daft as 12 Disasters has felt oddly cathartic. I’d dismissed SyFy films for years as being low-rent, substandard mince but watching this today reminds me of the simple pleasures they can bring if you’ve got a lot on your mind. I’m just about keeping my chin up as Katie reminds me that surely someone will buy the house soon and the rest of our lives can begin. We will rise again, just like…you know… whatshisname.
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