It seems that a great deal of credit has been bestowed upon Black Christmas, a 1974 Canadian horror film which was subsequently been remade in 2006. Just by dint of the fact that the feature was recast anew 30 some odd years after its filming points to the influence that Black Christmas exudes. Kinda.

Coming so early in the ‘70s the film, directed by Bob Clark, was able to establish some tropes that would be played out again and again in the horror genre. It might seem as if some folks grant the film a bit too much deference, though, seeing as a few of these supposed innovations come off as a bit hackneyed – even during the first half of the ‘70s.

The entire thing begins during a party being held by a sorority as a farewell just prior to winter break. All involved are getting hammered: just a houseful of co-eds. Out-side the house (and soon to enter) is the impetus of the narrative.

As the girls continue on in merriment, an obscene phone call disturbs the evening even as Margo Kidder’s character, Barb, dismisses it as nonsense. The devil-may-care attitude exemplified by this particular character is carried throughout the remainder of her on-screen time. For the most part Barb is intoxicated or dropping sexual explicit lines to cops. She should be perceived as the group’s hussy. And as one may have guessed with assistance of the genre’s perennial rules, the trollop gets killed. In Black Christmas, though, we might assume that Clark helped disseminate this particular aspect to the horror genre. But don’t ‘the wicked’ get punished in the bible as well? There are amply antecedents to this particular plot caveat as to not lend full credit to the film’s director.

A character that sees her way through to the end of the film is Jess, here portrayed by Olivia Hussey. The character represents the high moral ground in most ways – although we do find that she’s with child. And while the issue of premarital sex would have been passé at the time that the film was completed, the discussion centering on abortion remained heated. So when Jess tells her boyfriend that she doesn’t intend to keep the child, the character at once makes a keen social gesture, but to a certain extent aligns herself with the ‘bad’ element. How she doesn’t get killed is beyond me.

Regardless, the murderer, who is never shot in full, just bits and pieces are revealed to viewers, continues on his ravenous killing schedule hooking the house mother in the face and suffocating a co-ed with a plastic bag. And for all of the talk surrounding Black Christmas that points to its importance in the genre, the final scene of a dead girl in a rocking chair is eerily reminiscent of Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho.

It well may be that Clark’s feature here has a great deal to do with the trajectory of the horror genre as a whole. But at the same time, the feature retains a historicity that engulfs earlier, perhaps more important, work.