People get all twisted over small stuff. We see it often. A large chunk of modern media thrives on the outrage machine. It drives engagement, sputters out after a week or so, then the talking heads find something else with which to rile up the masses. This has been going on for a long time. Even way back in 1984, before the World Wide Web kicked the machine into overdrive, we were carving out chunks of our lives to be outrageously pissed at something that didn’t matter.
Silent Night, Deadly Night, the classic slasher flick from director Charles E. Sellier Jr., caught the attention of the outrage machine. Groups picketed theaters that were showing it, and Phil Donahue dedicated an episode of his talkshow to it. Why? Because the killer in this movie dresses as Santa Claus. That was it. That was the outrage. Santa was such a sacred cow to enough people that they were offended by the very idea of a killer Santa. The behavior of a fictional character was an attack on an institution — Christmas — that they held dear. This is familiar ground today for a certain subset of cable news viewers, but what a stupid thing to get angry about. The anger got so intense that the film was pulled from distribution after only a couple of weeks, home video releases were few, and the intact film was in danger of being lost, despite cult success and a string of sequels. Anyway…
Silent Night, Deadly Night follows the tragic life of Billy. Five-year-old Billy (Jonathan Best), like many little boys and girls, is looking forward to Christmas. But, after a spooky visit with grandpa (Will Hare) at the nursing home, Billy grows to fear Santa, as grandpa told Billy that Santa punishes the naughty just as he rewards the good. Billy’s little boy mind, still operating in black and white extremes, becomes fixated on the 
idea of Santa as a punisher of the most minor indiscretions. Then, that very same night, while traveling home, Billy’s parents stop to help a man with car trouble dressed as Santa. They assume he was on his way to a party, or something. He is, in fact, a killer, having just robbed a gas station and murdered the attendant. The killer Santa (Charles Dierkop) tries hijacking the family station wagon, but it goes bad, resulting in Billy’s parents’ murder.
Fast forward a few years, and Billy (Danny Wagner) lives at an orphanage run by an order of Catholic nuns. Mother Superior (Lilyan Chauvin), is a strict disciplinarian, and doesn’t buy into the idea that Billy’s misbehavior is the result of his trauma. His only ally is Sister Margaret (Gilmer McCormick), who tries to actually heal his wounds rather than beat them out of him. This sequence is all about character development, showing the lingering damage the murders have done.
Fast forward again and Billy (Robert Brian Wilson) has now come of age, and it’s time for him to go out into the world. Sister Margaret, always there for Billy, gets him a job as a stockboy at a local toy store just in time for the Christmas rush. It’s a tough time of year for Billy, but he takes to the job well. Unfortunately for Billy, his trauma is triggered when the store Santa calls out of work, and store owner Mr. Sims (Britt Leach), drafts Billy to fill in. After the store closes for the night, a drunken Sims teases Billy, still dressed as Santa, saying, “You remember what Santa Claus does on Christmas Eve, dontcha?” Oh, yeah. Billy remembers. This is the moment he snaps, and the killing spree begins.
This is one trashy slasher flick. It has all the 1980s accoutrements. Shootings, throat slashing, garroting, stabbing, bludgeoning, arrowing, antlering, defenestration, decapitation, and gratuitous nudity. There’s an entire scene tossed into the middle designed for no other purpose than for scream queen Linnea Quigley to get naked and murdered.
Despite all that earlier character development, once adult Billy enters the movie this flick gets as shallow as the ever-decreasing Salt Lake on the other side of the Wasatch where this was filmed. Wilson had all the acting chops of contemporary Arnold Schwarzenegger, who somehow managed to be more articulate in The Terminator. Wilson mumbles through his lines, which, by the end of the movie, had been reduced to him yelling, “Punish!” over and over again as he kills.
It’s easy to see why people were offended by this movie. I just think their choice of target was skewed. The film’s detractors were focused on the killer’s outfit, and not his conduct. There would have been no protests had Billy been wearing jeans and a turtleneck. Then the killing and the misogyny would have been just fine, I guess.
As it is, for fans of exploitation horror, Silent Night, Deadly Night is a gift. Sellier and company put together a movie with a swift pace that has an outrageous story. This is one of those films that is more fun to laugh at than laugh with, but that has nothing to do with the competence of those involved. It’s just funny that it was put to film at all. My personal favorite scene has nothing to do with murder or exploitation, either. It’s a montage of Billy working at the toy store before he goes on his killing spree. It plays like the intro to a 1980s network sitcom, with goofy music and everything. Silent Night, Deadly Night lands way up in the Watchability Index, displacing The Wraith at #13. It’s shitty gold.