Krampus, a film directed in 2015 by Michael Dougherty is a horror comedy where a demon attacks a family a few days before Christmas. It's in that special category of films that aren't terribly disturbing for adults but can make quite a horrifying impression on children aged 8-12. It's easy to compare this to films such as Gremlins, The Gate, Watership Down or Santa with Muscles. While on the whole I enjoy this film, I'm always a bit hesitant to recommend it as eagerly as some of those others I just listed. Krampus leaves me with a bitter taste in my mouth and it's entirely because of how the last 30 seconds of the film contextualise the previous 90 minutes of screen time.
First, a quick summary of the film's climax and resolution. Krampus and its minions have claimed every member of the Engel family bar Max and Stevie. Krampus makes it clear to Max that his rejection of Christmas has summoned the spirit's vengeance and hands the fragments of Max's letter back along with an engraved bell. Max walks away, but runs to the hole where Krampus' ilk are preparing to throw Stevie into a burning pit. Max offers himself to be thrown in instead, which causes the demons to laugh and throw Stevie in anyway. As they prepare Max for the same fate, he gives a final, heartfelt apology. Krampus laughs and into the fire and brimstone Max goes. Max awakens to discover it is the morning of December 25th with no trace of previous events. The Engel family seems filled with Christmas cheer and begin to give out presents. Max unwraps the engraved bell and the entire family awkwardly halts and stares. A record player begins to play Santa Claus is Coming to Town as the camera pans out of the house. This shot transitions to a snowglobe and further pans out to reveal Krampus' domain. Various demonic toys leap at the camera which then hard cuts to black and then the credits.
The music played in the final 30 seconds is a common refrain in American Christmas tradition. Its lyrics telling of a figure at Christmas who "sees you when you're sleeping... knows when you're awake" fits with Krampus' role in the film as the negative reinforcement version of Santa Claus. The snowglobes in its workshop take on a role similar to crystal balls. Krampus essentially has the occult version of a closed-circuit TV surveillance system. It's clear that the intent is a final reminder that Krampus is watching not just the family, but the audience as well.
At least I think that's what it's trying to say, but I just can't interpret it this way. The framing, imagery and presence of this final cut all combines in a way that I can only read, and perhaps more importantly feel something else.
First, the lighting and camera lens as Max awakes. The film wants to have a sharp contrast to the rest of its aesthetic, so the house is intentionally lit too brightly with an over saturated colour grading. The camera lens appears to be slightly misted as well. It's a light, fluffy... Christmasy look. It's also so unlike even the film's introductory scenes that it winds up creating an ethereal atmosphere. It's to give the audience the idea that perhaps instead of waking up from a dream, Max is instead inside one.
The rest of this sequence through to the thousand-yard stares everyone gives the camera is great. The audience isn't sure if everyone has only just remembered the influence of Krampus or was playing up an act of Christmas cheer purely out of fear. The camera pans out of the house through the lounge room window. This creates a sense of voyeurism. The audience has been looking in and violating a family's privacy. This, along with the music, firmly cements that Krampus is always watching.
My problem with the shot here is the type of windows used. They're filled with cross bars. This undercuts the voyeurism with the implication of the family being held behind bars. Rather than a harsh admonishment enforcing a change in behaviour, there's an implication that they're prisoners of Krampus.
This might just be metaphorical prison of the mind but the frame expands a little further to become a snowglobe. I said before that the intent feels like coopting Christmas imagery to make an occult viewing device, but snowgloves have a completely different meaning in film. A snowglobe is a tiny world in a glass cage with unchanging weather. They signify entrapment and stagnation for those inside and power over that world to whoever holds them.
In pursuit of a workshop vibe, the layout of these snowglobes doesn't use any sort of surveillance imagery. As the camera zooms out further, a great many snowglobes, and thus families who have met Krampus are placed upon shelves. Those that aren't are strewn around in ways that look more like office desk ornaments. Krampus isn't running a workshop - it's a warehouse.
Finally, the jumpscare. I brought up Gremlins earlier and the mayhem these demonic toys cause throughout the film are an easy point of comparison. The chief difference is their thematic purpose. The gremlins are ostensibly creatures of mischief. They're interested in chaos, mess and violating expectations. This can mean attempted murder in one scene then gushing over Walt Disney's first animated feature film the next. The toys violate the norm of being safe for human use, but are by no means agents of chaos or mischief. Krampus punishes those who cause chaos. The toys are in turn an automated early response tool for its invasion into a family's life. This means that while a closing monologue about gremlins in your machines can be eery yet uplifting and therefore fitting for a dark comedy; closing your film with purely malicious tools gives a closing emotional beat of fear and malice.
These last seconds are also similar to Dougherty's previous film Trick 'R Treat. That ends with the reveal that Mr. Kreeg's final trick or treaters are the disabled children he murdered decades earlier. Rather than them leaping towards the camera, the camera instead lunges at Mr. Kreeg before a rapid flash of comic book panels confirm he is being murdered by them. Trick 'r Treat is a film about karma. Disrespect and greed lead to karmic justice, often dispensed by animistic forms of nature. Unlike the malice of Krampus, the final emotional beat is one of grim satisfaction and schadenfreude.
So let's run through what the film has shown and said through its final act. Krampus' is gleeful as it casts Max into the flaming pit. The house the family awakens in is dream-like and a prison. Krampus keeps these prisons in a warehouse. I think the film wants to say that some empathy towards your family leads to much less painful experiences than rejecting them, but all I end this film with is malevolence and contempt.
So why does it matter how this ending makes me feel if I enjoy the rest of the film? The conclusion to a text is one of the most important elements. It's the final chance to give context to what came before. It can firmly clarify the themes, message and tone. Most importantly, it causes your final emotional response. A film can leave you feeling excited. Happy. Melancholy. Pensive. Thoughtful. It can also leave you disappointed, irritated or just plain grumpy. This response is likely what you'll think of whenever you're reminded of the text, no matter how the earlier acts made you feel. Emotional rollercoasters are memorable experiences, but the brain doesn't like to recall the bad ones. As such, when I'm asked to bring up a Christmas film, I'm more likely to suggest one that leaves me on a high note than Krampus. And that's a shame.
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