The countdown to Christmas is oftentimes a joyful event, but for some people, the approach of this holiday isn’t quite as merry. Advent calendars have been used since 19th century Germany to keep track of the days left until Christmas. They feature small doors that open for each day in December until the 25th, behind which there are typically small toys or treats. These calendars have gained popularity worldwide as a family-friendly form of celebration during the Christmas season, but in Patrick Ridremont’s French film The Advent Calendar, the daily opening of the calendar’s doors turns sinister, validating the scrooge-like disdain some individuals have for this time of year.
This film follows Eva (Eugénie Derouand), a former ballerina who became paraplegic after a terrible accident. Her friend Sophie (Honorine Magnier) returns from Germany with a gift to cheer her up: an antique-looking, wooden advent calendar with an ominous warning written on the back of it in German, which translates to “dump it and I’ll kill you.” As Eva begins to open the doors of the calendar, she is quickly presented with two other rules: if a piece of candy is eaten from behind a door, then they all must be, and follow every rule you’re given until you open the last door. The consequence for not playing along? You guessed it: you die. While Sophie laughs off these warnings, Eva quickly realizes that she’s inadvertently made a deal with the devil, which will result in her gaining the ability to use her legs again if she plays along...but at what cost?
The Advent Calendar does a masterful job at creating a rich, ominous atmosphere in its cinematography, camera work, and sound design. Every evening at midnight, a wooden head pops up from the calendar that instructs Eva in a demonic voice to open the next door, and it’s bone-chillingly creepy in the way that it’s presented. The shadowy shots of the calendar essentially coming to life while Eva attempts to sleep are so disturbing that we learn to dread the clock striking twelve, because we know what happens next. It showcases the vulnerability everyone has before slumber when we hear a strange noise in the house. The film thrives on threatening subtleties that amplify the more overt moments of horror, making the ill-boding mood of the film pervasive through every scene. The editing is especially effective with the way in which it weaves together the items behind the calendar doors with the real-world effects they have upon Eva’s life, and the tight pacing helps maintain interest from December 1st all the way through Christmas Eve for the viewer.
The Faustian story that unfolds for Eva is clever and merciless. Even when the advent calendar brings her good fortune, there is always a sense of consequence to her actions looming in the background. The tendency to veer toward unspoken, visual storytelling here is a smart one; the film never lingers in exposition and manages to hold a sense of mystery through the end. The theme of obsession begins to rear its ugly head when Eva realizes this calendar is the key to walking again, and she transitions from being a victim in the story to a downright predator, seemingly willing to do anything to say goodbye to her wheelchair — even if it means murdering the people she loves.
Kudos to Eugénie Derouand for depicting this obsession with aplomb. Her character is a complex one who feels broken both in body and in spirit. From the beginning, we instantly understand the pain she feels from being unable to walk anymore, mistreated by countless people in her life for her disability. We root for her, but also come to fear her as her sanity wanes and she succumbs to the calendar’s stringent demands. It’s a classic “be careful what you wish for” tale with some unconventional twists, and this strong lead actress makes the unsettling film especially poignant.
Many Christmas-themed horror films revel in camp and have a tongue-in-cheek approach, but this is not one of them. The Advent Calendar is a deadly serious depiction of a demonic force compelling a woman to alter fate with little emphasis on the actual holiday season, and it works incredibly well. There is no good will towards men here, nor should there be. Horror fans, check this film out whether you love Christmas or loathe it.
—Andrea Riley