The subverted-santa genre isnāt a stuffed stocking of hits.
Bad Santa was a hoot, sure; 2005ās silly Santaās Slay not so much.
Enter Finnish director Jalmari Helanderās blackly comic feature debut, which topples sacred reindeers with a smart balance of heart, humour and semi-horror, to emerge as the demi-genreās first cult classic.
Pitched between Raiders and The Thing, the opening sees a drilling expedition discover an ice block 500m down. Could it contain the real Claus, a child-munching devil?
Once itās unearthed, bodies mount. sacks, radiators then nippers vanish, the latter replaced in their beds with dolls...
Death has come to this little town – but Exports isnāt mere horror fodder. With only a non-sentimentalised boy (the excellent Onni Tommila) savvy to whatās going on, ā80s-vintage Joe Dante and Spielberg are the reference points.
The kidās home life recalls the broken family in E.T.; later, gruff men struggle to be nurturing in a sly āberg nod. Itās testament to Helanderās talent that comparisons donāt dwarf him, the director nailing the right equation of cheek and twisted fairytale chills.
The climax suffers from budgetary constraints, the stretched plot giving away the filmās beginnings as a short. But who cares when you see kids swinging in a net under a chopper chased by axe-flinging codgers? The codaās images are more mischievous still, adding tinsel to a rare export indeed.
Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale review
Come on, fear the Claus...
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