Directing: B-
Acting: B
Writing: C+
Cinematography: B
Editing: B
Special Effects: B-

There’s a maybe five-minute sequence in Violent Night that is essentially an ultraviolent version of Home Alone. There’s a little Black girl instead of Macaulay Culkin, and the booby traps are more severe than those that Kevin set—although truthfully not by a wide margin; Home Alone, while still hilarious, rather downplays the severity of the injuries the traps would actually inflict. In Violent Night, instead, people actually die. Lots of them. What’s more: Violent Night is so shameless in its ripping off Home Alone in this sequence, it comes long after the movie gets literally name checked by young Trudy Lightstone. Call it “Chekov’s movie reference.”

The thing is, that five-minute sequence is by far the best part of Violent Night, giving me several good belly laughs, and I rather wish the whole movie had been centered around that. The whole story would have been much improved just being an R-rated, ultra-violent update on Home Alone, 32 years later, as thought that holiday classic were crossed with, say, Kill Bill. Now that would have been a blast.

There is a particular problem with Violent Night, you see, and that is its tonal schizophrenia. Some scenes are very violent and also very funny. Some scenes are very violent just for the sake of violence, without being funny, as though script writers Pat Casey and Josh Miller were using the sight of David Harbour in a Santa suit as a crutch—somehow, we’re meant to stay amused just because literal Santa Claus is dispatching countless nameless goons with a sledgehammer he calls “The Skullcrusher.” I mean, sure, that’s kind of funny. For a minute or two.

Violent Night works incredibly well when it has its wits about, which is unfortunately not all of the time. And, sure, even Home Alone was treacly and sentimental, ostensibly about “wholesome family values” even though in the end it wasn’t really—but it still worked because it had its narrative priorities in order, saving the violent gags for the extended, hilarious climactic sequence at the end. Violent Night, on the other hand, whips back and forth all through the movie, between bloody fights and an ultra-rich family learning the value of each other while being held hostage by a team of criminals headed by “Mr. Scrooge” (John Leguizamo).

Anyone familiar with the truly fantastic and hilarious—and thus far superior—1988 Bill Murray vehicle Scrooged will instantly be reminded of that film’s opening sequence, which turned out to be a preview for a network TV action movie with Santa Claus as its main character, called The Night the Reindeer Died. The whole point there was exaggerated ridiculousness as the result of crass holiday consumerism, and now, in 2022, we basically have that sketch gag stretched out into a feature film. I’ll give 2022 movie this much credit, at least: Violent Night is a far better title. I bet the writers of that fake trailer from Scrooged are kicking themselves now.

Ironically, David Harbour’s Santa Claus in Violent Night is a drunken mess largely because of disillusionment about what consumerist zombies modern children have become. And yet, what does Violent Night itself represent, really?

I won’t lie: I found Violent Night fun enough. That Home Alone booby trap sequence single handedly heightened my impression of the entire movie, if only to keep me from relegating it to utter mediocrity. Now I would just call it . . . relatively mediocre.

David Harbour is inspired casting as Santa Claus, notwithstanding how easy it is to argue he isn’t fat enough. At worst, he’s “stocky”—a clear choice to make him a badass former ancient warrior. Odd that we should learn that about him but not how the hell he actually became Santa. Also strange that he should be riddled with “Christmas magic” and yet so easily maimed and bloody. This is sort of like making Die Hard as an actual Christmas movie. Still not nearly as good though.

The little girl, by the way, is played winningly by Leah Brady; she’s visiting her very rich grandmother’s estate with her otherwise estranged parents (Alexis Louder and Alex Hassell). It’s pretty fun to see Beverly D’Angelo as ultra-rich-bitch Grandma Gertrude Lightstone, although even her character, like all the other adults, exist only to serve the plot purpose of vapid people barely worth protecting or saving.

I just wish Violent Night could make up its mind between earnestness and self-parody. Nearly half the movie is incongruously earnest, as though we are watching a wholesome holiday movie, even though that’s not what it is at all. None of it fits, and a movie like this really only works if it never takes itself seriously.

David Harbour never does, at least, and so the movie is at least slightly better for it. Even the subplot of little Trudy being vindicated in her belief in Santa Claus could have worked in a movie that held its conviction of utter silliness. Instead, director Tommy Wirkola seems to want Violent Night to offer something for everybody, even though that’s just never how movies like this work. In the end, it just means the audience who comes for the cartoonish violence rendered more amusing by the involvement of Santa Claus will spend every other sequence just waiting for the action to start again.

The more tedious scenes might have worked better if it had more cleverly written humor, but with a few notable exceptions, the gags in this movie are low-hanging fruit. Someone needs to try this exercise again, and do it right, or at least better. Flesh out the young-child-as-action-hero angle. Call it Scrooge Hard, or something. Home Explode? I don’t know, we can workshop it. Unfortunately there’s no better action-Christmas-movie title than Violent Night. I just wish it got more than halfway to living up to it.

*While visions of skullcrusher hammers danced in their heads*

Overall: B-