Synopsis:
When Austin’s parents drag him and his little sister Fiona to a remote cottage for Christmas, he’s less than thrilled about the forced bonding exercise. But after learning that their holiday getaway was the site of a horrific crime, this family on the rocks will have to fight for their lives against a legendary killer… because Candy Cain is slashing through the snow with a very long naughty list.
Review:
If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if Kevin McAllister traded his tripwires and staple guns for a hatchet, Brian McAuley’s “Candy Cain Kills,” is the masterful juxtaposition between the festive and foul you’ve been waiting for. In this impeccable holiday horror, the claustrophobic isolation horror of Ania Ahlborn’s “The Shuddering,” meets the compulsive slasher format of Ivy Tholen’s “Tastes Like Candy,” meets the undeniable Christmas spirit of Die Hard. To, in hindsight, my utter stupidity, I watched Ed, Anna, CJ, and Sean rave about this bad boy last year, and did nothing about it- something I promised myself I’d correct this year, particularly with the recent release of “Candy Cain Kills Again,” which I will also be reading this month. Having loved “Curse of The Reaper,” in September, I was sure Brian McAuley was a) hilarious, b) wickedly talented and c) truly evil, and having finally ticked this one off of the TBR, I am sure that he is all of the above- there is truly no better way to kick off the Christmas season.
Greg’s surprise Christmas getaway quickly goes south. With his marriage quickly deteriorating, and his relationship with his children, Austin and Fiona suffering as a result, he needs this holiday to go down a treat. Naturally things get a little frosty (and not in a wholesome snowman-building way) when the family find the kids will be sharing a room, and the whole family will be sharing a bathroom, but things turn sharply from ho ho ho to “no no no,” when they learn of the rumours surrounding their temporary home. 10 years prior, on Christmas Day, the previous occupants died in a mysterious and tragic house fire, a shock event that gave rise to the legend of Candy Cain, the vicious killer who snuffed out the good Christian family of four in a blaze of yuletide terror. Creepy folklore aside, Greg is determined to have a great Christmas, something that seems at least a remote possibility, until they find the recorder. The tape that plays, recorded ten years earlier, is gruesome, it’s disturbing, and it confirms the worst. What happened in that house 10 years ago was no accident, the monster behind it is ready to deck the halls with blood, guts and gore once again- and no one is on her nice list.
In his debut (and what a debut it is) “Curse of The Reaper,” McAuley adds a little spice to the traditional slasher genre, by making it, to put it plainly, meta as fuck. It’s something we saw in Paul Tremblay’s “Horror Movie,” and something we consistently see from his holiness, Stephen Graham Jones. It obviously works. Here, however, McAuley takes a meaner and leaner, simple yet effective approach. You’d describe it in contrast, as your standard slasher- but done exceptionally well. Every page brims with creative and grotesque kills that are as entertaining as they are stomach-churning. The killer responsible? Indisputably twisted, but arising from a backstory so undeniably tragic it will leave you unsure as to whether you want to loathe or pity her (spoiler: it’s both). She’s crafted with complexity, cruelty, and just enough pathos to make him unforgettable. The writing itself is addictive, it’s fast, it’s sharp, and it knows exactly when to unleash further christmas-centric chaos. It likely won’t surprise you to know that this is a novella I read in one sitting. McAuley by no means reinvents the slasher, but he does wrap it up in Christmas lights, douse it in gasoline, and send it careening down a snow-covered hill, ultimately demonstrating that perhaps the best way to keep a genre alive is to serve it fresh, raw, and dripping with festive terror.
If you’re looking for a holly, jolly hit that delivers more than just a little holiday cheer, “Candy Cain Kills,” is the gift that keeps on slashing- quite literally, there’s a sequel. It’s the campy Christmas horror novella I was praying that it would be, yet beneath the tinsel and fairy lights, McAuley reminds us that the holidays, for many, are a pressure cooker of unresolved tensions and fractured families. To summarise, it sleighs.
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