Another dark film is up next, the deeply weird Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale, from Finnish director Jalmari Helander. This 2010 oddity features an ancient, creepy Santa who's a fan of punishing naughty little ones. I’ve just been moaning about the glut of Krampus-led Christmas horror films all being very boring and samey but this one takes the idea of a demonic Santa and gives us something very fresh, even if it does all fizzle out towards an underwhelming ending.
This feature-length curio was spun out of a couple of Helander’s short films about smugglers who hunted and tamed freaky, naked cannibal Santas to then be shipped off around the world for profit as the cuddly gift-givers we all know.
This one plays like a very unusual hybrid of ‘80s kids adventure movies like The Goonies and darker creature features like The Thing - but not quite as fun as that sounds. I find the story very compelling and unpredictable, though the film’s final act doesn’t quite feel like big enough payback for all the build-up and careful world-building going on here.
The film’s opening promises a lot of cool fun, with a team of roughnecks being tasked with excavating a snowy Finnish mountain site that some crazy rich dude believes is the ancient tomb of Santa Claus. Legend has it St. Nick was actually a right evil old bastard, so the villagers lured him into some ice, froze him, then dropped a mountain on top, just to make sure. You know what crazy rich dudes are like, so of course they explode a whole bunch of dynamite and something horrific is unleashed.
Observing all this is oddball pre-teen Pietari (Onni Tommila), a strange little boy who drags a pile of rags around on a lead as though it’s a pet and who, of course, is being raised by a single, rugged mountain-man reindeer-hunter dad in the Sam Elliott mould (Jorma Tommila). Pietari overhears what’s going down, does some research in some creepy-ass occult books he conveniently has just lying around and figures out that a whole load of black magic nastiness is on its way. In a spine-chilling moment, the boy spots a pair of footprints right outside his upstairs bedroom window, bringing a whole new sinister bent to the line “He sees you when you’re sleeping”.
Swiftly, he’s dressed up in his protective hockey gear and ready to rumble, figuring mean old ‘Sinterklaas’ is back and intent on scooping up all the town’s naughty children. It feels suitably grim, chilly and atmospheric, though not all that scary, the film aiming more for absurdity than anything else. It’s a bit of a slow burn until Dad accidentally catches a gnarly old naked beardy dude in one of his wolf traps. This leads to some bizarre revelations but not a whole load of menace or frights.
We certainly get some memorable images, such as a horde of naked old geezers rampaging down the frozen mountainside, while the sackcloth ‘dolls’ that ‘Santa’ leaves in children's beds are proper ghoulish but the film’s anti-climactic final act feels like a letdown. The movie is all build-up but feels like they forgot to add a truly memorable, thrilling showdown worthy of all this effort.
It’s not a bad film, just a frustrating one that leaves me wanting more. It’s an anti-climax but one that digs deep into the sinister subtext of an old dude who sneaks into kid’s houses at night.
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