CHRISTMAS AT THE KRINGLES

Christmas at the Kringles has a promising idea at its centre that could have created a deranged holiday flick full of laughter and moments of true terror, but the filmmaking team is never able to grasp that potential and sadly ends up wasting the talents of the cast in an unremarkably dull film.

The Christmas spirit is infectious and can get anyone in the festive mood, whether it be the Christmas carols, the baking and family meals, decorations, or even the presents. There’s a reason it is often called the most wonderful time of the year. But Christmas all year round? That is beginning to sound like a nightmare, and that is before factoring in the sinister twist that Zack Imbrogno has up his sleeve in the screenplay for Christmas at the Kringles. A cult that brainwashes individuals with holiday cheer, a Bane like henchman named Jingles with a festive ball gag and risqué leather costuming, and the casting of National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation’s Beverly D’Angelo as Mama K Kringle, there is so much that could have been done with these ideas to deliver a wicked yet fun holiday horror comedy, but Imbrogno rarely is able to capitalize on what he has written in the film’s set up.

While the film’s first half has some uncomfortably fun moments as the Kringle family pushes their love of Christmas on their new neighbours while teasing something darker brewing within their house, once the terror begins in the film’s second half, everything begins to fall flat. As Mark runs through the Kringles’ house trying to save his family, there is a severe lack of urgency to the simulated madness on screen to create the requisite terror the concept needs for the film to be a success. The situations that Mark faces for the most part are generic and apart from the set decoration, fail to capitalize on the holiday theme and ultimately fails to distinguish it from other films with a similar narrative. Even the violence that occurs feels tame with no sense of urgency despite an R rating, wasting Jingles and his disturbing appearance with a run of the mill fight sequence that could have been a standout moment if milked for more shock value and comedic net worth. From a comedic point of view, while the Kringles’ love of the holidays is cringe worthy and comical at first, the screenplay’s insistence to never move past this initial comedic idea and failure to develop it beyond the punchline of “they love Christmas” causes the reprieve jokes to fall on deaf ears quickly. For a holiday film that is meant to be a horror comedy, it is largely unfunny and not even remotely startling, and that is being generous.

It’s too bad that the events of the story are unable to deliver on its promise, as the performances of Thomas Lennon and Arden Myrin are gleefully sinister. Bursting with an overabundance of holiday cheer, Lennon and Myrin perfectly understand the assignment and create the most unsettling characters who are shoving Christmas down the world’s throats. While joyful and comical on the surface, the facial expressions that Lennon and Myrin deliver quietly tease their characters’ darker intentions, and once their true intentions are revealed in the film’s second half, they passionately embrace the sinister yuletide deeds of their characters. Delightfully diabolical with a wacky energy that embraces the comedic undertones of Imbrogno’s screenplay, Lennon and Myrin perfectly understand the assignment and are the film’s highlight, single handedly making the film watchable.

The rest of the cast fulfills what the script asks of them, though never rising above the words on the page. Ron Livingston is fine as Mark, easily capturing the father and husband out of touch emotionally with his wife and son to set up his inevitable redemption arc but without any meaningful reflection on what this path means for his children. Rachel Bilson is rather dull as his wife Julie, suffering from any true sense of character on the page that gives her little material to work with. The child actors for the Kringle children capture the unsettling personalities of these children inducted into a Christmas cult, but have very little to do that counteracts their potential, while Rob Riggle somehow plays Drunk Santa quietly without much screen presence which defeats having such a well known comedic actor in the role. Donald Faison does his usual comedic routine as Daryl while delivering the same joke over and over again, which gets old quickly, and though D’Angelo makes the most of her bit as the crazy aunt who speaks in a foreign language for no logical reason, not even her comedic timing can sell this gag that is dead on arrival.

A requisite of any good holiday film is that the appearance of the film needs to give off that Christmas spirit, and Christmas at the Kringles accomplishes that. The Kringles’ house looks like Christmas threw up all over it, in the most complementary way imaginable, with the tackiest decorations that capture the joy of the holiday season. From an endless amount of blow up characters in the front yard, tinsel and Christmas trees inside, to their holiday themed costumes, everything about the Kringles and their house screams Christmas with not a single Christmas decoration or detail spared. Even the lighting choices in the film’s second half as Mark tries to save his family leans into the holiday spirit, using lots of red and green lighting to light the basement sequences. It’s all well designed under production designer Charles M. Lagola, giving off that tacky holiday feeling that a ridiculous film like Christmas at the Kringles needs to succeed, it’s just sadly not reciprocated when it comes to the film’s writing.

Sadly, Santa has no Christmas treats to deliver to movie goers with this new holiday horror comedy, only leaving lumps of coal for those looking to get a head start on the holiday season. While Christmas at the Kringles wants to capture the holiday spirit with the excessive set decoration that replicates a Hallmark Christmas movie with a narrative idea that gives an unhinged and violent twist to holiday cheer, sadly not even the wonderful performances of Thomas Lennon and Arden Myrin who are every bit as diabolical and sickly festive as required can salvage an otherwise lacklustre screenplay that is too restrained for its own good.