Thanksgiving Review: Eli Roth's Throwback Slasher Is A Bloody Feast For Horror Fans
For director Eli Roth, "Thanksgiving" has been a movie over 16 years in the making. Originally meant as an in-joke, the horror movie's origins are as humble as it gets: a fake trailer for a hypothetical, extremely low-budget, and uber-violent slasher that bridged the two films featured in Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez's experimental double feature "Grindhouse" back in 2007. This concept could've easily remained a fun, if inconsequential footnote in a long-gone era of B-movie sleaze. Instead, the film now joins fellow fake trailers "Machete" and "Hobo With A Shotgun" as "Grindhouse" spin-offs (of a sort) that have since gone from parody to reality.
The miracle of it all, of course, is that most would've expected an oddity like "Thanksgiving" to settle for little more than empty pastiche, impotently aping the '80s slashers Roth so blatantly tried to evoke in his early directing efforts. Those who've watched the original "short" will certainly recognize the bones of a shared skeleton, from a (thankfully tamped-down) trampoline sequence involving a cheerleader to the basic premise of a Thanksgiving-themed serial killer terrorizing a small town. Channeling the tone and spirit of obvious inspirations like "Black Christmas" or "Halloween" the way it does would've been enough for some, sure, but that hardly does justice to the magic trick that Roth pulls off.
To their immense credit, Roth and co-writer Jeff Rendell have crafted something special here. It's far from a perfect movie, but it's not trying to be, either. In fact, that would probably defeat the entire purpose. This is precisely the kind of throwback to messy, grime-filled horror filmmaking that refuses to wash off, that leaves a stubborn hint of dirt underneath the fingernails for days to come. More than anything else, "Thanksgiving" is a gnarly, entertaining, and gleefully over-the-top fright fest — one that demands to be enjoyed in rowdy midnight screenings at repertory theaters for years to come.
Deliberately-paced thrills
The most striking part of "Thanksgiving" in the early going might also be its most surprising: a sense of restraint. The story begins with an extended opening sequence that steadily ramps up a feeling of dread. It's Thanksgiving 2022 and hordes of out-of-control Black Friday shoppers are descending upon a local appliance store in hopes of snagging a great deal for stuff they don't really need. Nell Verlaque's Jessica is just trying to survive another obnoxious Thanksgiving dinner with her workaholic dad (a perfectly slimy Rick Hoffman) and her emotionally distant soon-to-be stepmom (Karen Cliche), both of whom own the local warehouse that's about to be the scene of horrific (yet darkly comedic) violence.
The film gradually builds the group dynamic of our main characters when Jessica and her boyfriend Bobby (Jalen Thomas Brooks) escape the house for some impromptu Black Friday shopping, using Jessica's connections to slip inside the store before it actually opens and generally act like any annoying teenager would. Don't be shocked when you find yourself struggling to sympathize with any of the protagonists beyond Jessica, however, as Roth and Rendell's script makes the bold choice to make them just unlikable enough that putting them in the path of a maniacal serial killer throughout the film never feels too cruel. By the time the friend group's antics indirectly lead to an all-out riot and the deaths of multiple victims (the sequence, shot almost like a zombie movie, gets in plenty of laughs and takes plenty of shots at good ol' fashioned American consumerism), the film has artfully established a pressure cooker to sustain the gruesome kills to come.
Those deaths, though spread out quite a bit throughout the 106-minute runtime, are always accompanied with a real sense of bite. A year after the riot, the masked killer takes aim at the most egregious offenders from that night in the store — with a particular focus on Jessica and each of her friends, though some have changed more than others as a result of that harrowing event.
Paying homage by pushing the envelope
Here, "Thanksgiving" shows off a particularly keen eye for mixing old-fashioned thrills with a modern touch. While many filmmakers struggle to find the drama in horror stories when smartphones are an ever-present reality, Roth directly incorporates such tech with clever flourishes, from the killer initially tagging the main characters in a series of increasingly disturbing Instagram posts to eventually using video calls and texts to maximize the impact of the bloodiest scares. Throughout this meaty second act of the film, the comedy and the horror not only ramp up, but each enhances the other in surprisingly effective ways. Like some of the best moments in the "Scream" franchise, the various set pieces in "Thanksgiving" expertly balance camp with inspired thrills. At any moment, cinematographer Milan Chadima's lens relies on natural lighting, reflections, set design, or even eerie stretches of silence to stretch out the tension to its breaking point. The noticeably playful camera works hand in hand with the film's overall tone, which aims to incite a dizzying sense of fun just as much as it showcases the provocative moments of gore-splashed horror.
Even as the deliberate pacing begins to make the film sag a bit between kills or a tepid love triangle between Jessica and two rivals for her affection threatens to drag the action down, it speaks to the overwhelming focus of the film that the proceedings hum along at an effective clip anyway. Roth and Rendell never let a single narrative setup go to waste, always making sure to pay off everything from the most obvious contrivance to the subtlest of touches. The various supporting characters among Jessica's friends are never much more than functional plot elements (Addison Rae, Jenna Warren, Tomaso Sanelli, and Gabriel Davenport do their best to stand out, though it says a lot that I couldn't tell you any of their characters' names), but the real heroes are Patrick Dempsey as local sheriff Newlon and the cavalcade of guest stars who exist solely to be killed off in the funniest, most brutal ways imaginable.
No doubt, some will feel that "Thanksgiving" doesn't go nearly far enough to measure up to Roth at his most exploitative, but that would be missing the forest for the trees. This retelling accomplishes the best of both worlds, fully earning its delicious mean streak from its horror influences while delivering one of the most satisfying and crowd-pleasing experiences at the theater this year.
/Film Rating: 7 out of 10