A not-bad low-budget horror film that cares less about making sense than it cares about its wintertime American Gothic atmosphere. It’s got its priorities straight, if you ask me. There’s this spooky old house out in the country. The wildly unpopular old jerk who used to live there died in a fire a long time ago, which only makes the place more creepy. The locals want to tear it down and be rid of it, but the grandson who inherited the dump wants to be paid first. His lawyer shows up to hash out the arrangement and then the next thing you know most of the cast gets sliced and splattered like tomatoes in an Italian kitchen. The killer lurks in the night in a black overcoat and likes to whisper into telephones, their identity always hidden. WHO THE HELL IS KILLING EVERYBODY? See this flick and find out! See it any time of the year, by the way. Though this film is set during the Christmas season, it doesn’t get into it. There’s the occasional Christmas tree in the background and a little “Silent Night” on the soundtrack, but that’s as deep into the holiday spirit as this film cares to dive. No jingle bells or Santa Claus here, just a lot of shadows and dead trees. And a young Mary Woronov. She plays the daughter of the town mayor who gets mixed up in this malarky. The best part: the queasy yellow-tinted flashback to the seedy shocker backstory.