Horror is the most undoubtable mirror that fictional entertainment has ever seen- I’ll stand on that. It’s known for giving a broad snapshot of what our greatest fears might’ve been at any given time. From climate change to the social and systemic issues in between- it all comes out through fictional stories of horror.
Women across the United States are teetering on the line of a life-threatening regression. Repetition is something that history will always whip around, but when creative minds grab on, we can use their memorialized messages to paint a bigger picture for further education. For the fandom, the time is ripe to look for scholars at the intersection of activism and genre history to guide us through. Take Chris Love, for example; reproductive justice advocate, Arizona lawyer, and “repro horror” scholar.
“We’re so used to seeing abortion being treated as difficult or heart-wrenching. Black Christmas stands out because Jess was so clear and unbothered about her decision to choose herself and her future. That’s how it should be and frankly, how it actually is most of the time”
Bob Clark’s holiday massacre of 74’ is invaluable to horror history. On the side of the genre, it’s the most responsible for our treasured ‘slasher’ sub-genre while pumping the gas on true fears of home and personal invasion. On the side of U.S. history, the film was released only one year after the ruling of Roe V. Wade.
The film opens with Jess Bradford (Olivia Hussey) confronting her boyfriend Peter (Keir Dullea) with the news of her pregnancy, and her plans to have an abortion in light of her career. Let me remind you again, it’s 1974, and even on a 2024 rewatch, no viewer should be surprised when Jess is met with a gaslighting attack. Peter’s attempts were dismissed, but the message and accompanying rage couldn’t be more relevant. Every line of weaponized dialogue from Peter’s mouth is written so well that it’s impossible to ignore even 50 years later.
It’s here, before the fantasy fear kicks in where fans and genre scholars alike can recognize a crossing of an ethical line- a single decision that could greatly impact a woman’s life, career, and comfort. The great thing is women today are more likely to be like Jess, and challenge ideas of patriarchy for their right to decide. Opening our greater horror story with an additional personal one makes Jess’s fight relatable, and even more important- for her survival, and the shot at life she has a right to. Queue the telephone.
I could go on forever about the film’s first act, but the conflict driving Black Christmas is the creep on the other end of those perverted phone calls. Even though this is a separate issue from Jess’s plan for her body, my recent rewatch opened my eyes to the idea that these two conflicts are two sides of the same coin. I’m a woman, and a citizen of the United States. Now that I’ve lost some of my confidence in the protection of reproductive rights, I’ve digested this whole scenario in a different, more infuriating light.
Through the calls, the killer causes panic, and threatens the security of the sorority sisters inside. His remarks are disturbing and sex-obsessed, and the girls react with fear and disgust like any person would. Imagine making all the right decisions to ensure a future of comfort and success, just to have your right to it stripped under the guise of gross misogynistic mental gymnastics. That’s how I feel right now, and I almost can’t believe how smudge-free the mirror is.
In the film’s opening, we witness what an intimate conflict over women’s reproductive rights might look like. Most of the horror community has given the scene their highest praise, but my damage this month was experiencing that those themes don’t actually stop once the calls start. Those themes end up getting stronger by switching from seeing the problem with patriarchal power, to understanding what it feels like to exist trapped underneath it.
History is repeating itself again, and the deja-vu in Black Christmas is tough enough to hand out complimentary whiplash. It’s still disturbing, but as consumers of horror, we know how to trust the final girl. Through just about any period commentary you can find in horror, there’s a final girl who’s survived it- maybe two or three. The truth in that statement holds the most weight at a time like this, though. Cheers to Jess Bradford, and everyone she represents.