It’s Lola’s (Jeremy Moineau) first time back in her small hometown since leaving for the big city at 16 and transitioning. Thus she expects drama––either because the locals are still stuck under 1950s-era gender norms or because her old bullies are chomping at the bit to pick up where they left off. A double murder, though? No one would fathom that as her homecoming present, regardless of her minor celebrity as a true-crime podcaster who got the bug when being confronted with her own community urban legend as a kid. Could it be a stalker who listened to her latest episode and followed her down? A figure from her past? Or, maybe, the ghost of the Toymaker himself?
While I’ve never read a Nancy Drew book, I have played a couple of the point-and-click games with my partner, so the homage isn’t lost on me. And not just because Lola is jokingly referred to as a Nancy Drew clone with her studies in forensic science, either. Alice Maio Mackay’s Carnage for Christmas has all the earmarks of those Carolyn Keene novels––just through a contemporary, punk lens helped by Vera Drew’s editing style. (No one who has seen The People’s Joker will be surprised to find her name under that credit.) The corny dialogue. The inept authority figures. The empowered lead and her friends taking matters into their own hands. I’m not sure what Lola is better at: solving crimes or emasculating pathetic men.
Because there’s more than just a murder spree at the heart of Mackay and co-writer Benjamin Pahl Robinson’s script. This town is corrupt to its core with an incestuous bureaucracy that shields itself from culpability. Every violent crime is a “botched robbery.” Every newcomer with the potential to be othered is a “troublemaker.” And the filmmakers have no qualms playing these realities with tongues firmly planted in cheek. The news broadcast of the first murder using “Local Lesbian” to describe the victim in its chyron should get you to understand the tone straight away. Those who need a bit more proof will receive it courtesy of our introduction to the police force arriving with the bite of a chocolate-covered donut.
Satire aside, the film proves an effective mystery. It can feel very rushed at times, with dialogue beats turning from playful to expository in an instant, but that’s what happens with micro-budget productions that run just under 70 minutes. The plot needs to move. If another body isn’t falling, Lola is on the move interrogating the locals for new information. Because she knows this place. She knows these people. Hearing how much some changed with maturity (and how most didn’t) gets the wheels spinning to know which doors to knock on. Lola is turning over rocks, but she’s really poking the beehive to see if she can stir up trouble and make life uncomfortable for those feeling invincible.
It’s fun to watch, too. All the tough guys who roughed her up as a kid are hollow façades left speechless when she gets in their faces and forces them to confront their truth. The women who hang out at the Nowhere Club with her sister Danielle (Dominique Booth) are badasses who’ve flaunted their autonomy (whether straight, gay, or in drag) to the point of making sure the town’s insecure machismo could no longer ignore their existence. Is it surprising, then, that they become the ones being hunted? Of course not. The ghost of the Toymaker (a man who would make wooden toys for all the kids at Christmastime before brutalizing his entire family in a fit of jealous rage) isn’t the only ghost here.
There are the memories of abusive men preying on the helpless. It’s the whole “women are afraid men will kill them while men are afraid women will laugh at them” brought to life in such a way that every man onscreen could feasibly be the culprit. The lesbians are “homewrecking sluts.” The queer community at-large consists of “freaks.” Lola herself is both reviled and ogled by anyone who looks her way, save men like Joe Romeo’s Dave (who was bullied as much as she was back in the day) and Tumelo Nthupi’s Constable Kent (an admitted fan of her podcast). Her presence is stirring up a lot of feelings that make the holiday cheer getting replaced by blood easy to comprehend.
Will the result be for everyone? No. The style is very DIY, featuring game actors who would be the first to tell you that they aren’t coveting awards. Thankfully, those who turn their noses at such things probably aren’t sitting down for a trans-led, R-rated Nancy Drew slasher mystery anyway. So if you read the synopsis or watch a trailer and think “this is for me,” you can be assured it will satisfy that underground-cinema bug. It’s an imperfect, singular ride through small-town suburbia with lightning-fast pacing that causes some segues to have you wondering if you missed a scene. A lean, melodramatic tale of returning home to discover the people who thought they were better than you are the losers you always knew they were.
Carnage for Christmas had its Montreal premiere at the Fantasia International Film Festival.
The post Fantasia Review: Carnage for Christmas is a Lightning-Fast Slasher Mystery first appeared on The Film Stage.
