...ah, the cherished traditions of the Christmas season...adorning the tree with all manner of colorful shimmer, sparkle and sash...suspending those goodie-filled stockings over the warming fire heath...neighbors decoratively duking it out, trying to outdo each other in twinkly, animated yard shows...ring-a-ding Xerox copy Santas at the local Food Marts, standing next to hand-me-down Halloween cauldrons, now containing coin jingle, instead of a witch's brew...the presents...the egg nog...the wreath on the door...the outdoors Christmas lights..."...Honey, the outdoors Christmas lights; when are you gonna put them up??"..."...Oh man, do I HAVE to, dear?? Can't it wait until tomorrow?? I just wanna lie here, and...and...and, hey...what's with the flashing lights outside?? Those colorful fireworks in the sky??...
...of course, those privy to genre classics, like "Day of the Triffids" and "Night of the Comet", already know very well where this one's heading, in engaging the quaintly macabre and amusing little Christmas zom/com from 2012, "Christmas with the Dead". Culled from the literary prowess of those who wrote the 2002 horror/comedy cult classic, "Bubba-Ho-Tep", the same twistedly angst and sardonic humor is most evident, in this funny little twist to the well-worn 'walking dead' genre. Calvin (Damian Maffai, looking sort of like a young Clancy Brown) has a problem...a rather big problem. It seems that his world has been turned upside down, and he has been thrust into survivalist minority mode, thinking he's the last of the living, after avoiding the deadly result of a brilliant and colorful lightstorm, which has rendered his entire neighborhood, and as far as he can see, all parts beyond, into flesh-eating zombies (...or 'snappers', as they are referred to, herein). Wrought with guilt, in so far as having lost his wife and daughter to undead conversion, during the mysterious night lights...the guilt stemming from having procrastinated, by putting off hanging up the outdoors Christmas lights...Calvin now lives in a perpetual yuletide season, doing all he can to revel and perpetuate in the holiday cheer...all the while, trying to avoid being eaten by, and yet continuing to interact with his now-undead neighbors...in some of the film's more amusing moments, even speaking to them, and calling them by name, in an attempt at assuming some insanely sane normalcy, to all that's happened...
...ritually continuing this skewedly structured routine, well into the summer months, Calvin's dedicated existence, as unconventional as it now is...is abruptly interrupted, in encountering and joining forces with the very alive G.M. (Brad Maule), a grizzled, smart-aleck middle-age garbageman...armed with a shotgun, and as such, now elevated to the role of zombie 'exterminator'...clearly, still taking out the trash. G.M. sync's Calvin in on certain idiosyncrasies with the 'snappers', including their elatedly embraced allure & attraction towards heavy bassed music, and how contrastingly upset they get, when the music is suddenly turned off (...a concept which serves Calvin and G.M. well, later on in the film). Just as Calvin and G.M. reach an understanding and appreciation of each other (...though G.M. cannot help but be put off at the fact, that Calvin is keeping his undead wife chained up in the kitchen...still wearing her slinky, sexy Christmas outfit...and feeding her dog food), with a renewed dedication in finally getting those damn Christmas lights up, the both of them are plagued by a motley crew of escaped insane asylum inmates, who capture our hapless suburbanites, and take them to their leader, Reverend Mac (Chet Williamson). Will they escape the Reverend's clutches?? Will they figure out a way to turn the zombies against the asylum inmates?? But, first and foremost, will they get those damn Christmas lights up, once and for all??.....
...clever, and quite funny, tongue-in-cheek humor abounds herein, from the snappy, knee-slapping dialog...the caustic, albeit laughable interaction of the characters...even to the zombies themselves, who shamble, jerk, spark and 'pop' about, as if they were uncontrollably plagued by perpetual body Tourette's Syndrome, as they walk about...that is, until they are hit with music, containing a preponderance of bass, at which time they stop, and begin to hilariously move in place, as if they were uncoordinated extra wannabees, in the Michael Jackson 'Thriller' video...
...those looking for a relatively fresh, and quite laughable take on the undead genre, with an amusingly contrasting embrace of the yuletide season, can't possibly go wrong, here...Recommended...
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