[Review] Shudder’s The Advent Calendar (2021): A Candy-Coated Trinity of Blood, Guts, and Ableism
As a disabled woman and horror fan, it thrilled me to have received a screener of Patrick Ridremont’s The Advent Calendar (Le calendrier) prior to its official release on Shudder this week. Slated to premiere December 2, this festively gruesome bloodbath is a candy-coated trinity of blood, guts, and ableism sure to turn even the strongest stomach.
Ridremont’s brutal tale follows former ballet dancer Eva (Eugénie Derouand) as she navigates the intricacies of disability through the inscrutable chambers of an accursed Advent calendar. Bittersweet like the chocolate Eva devours, the film itself is a tough treat to swallow. In a serpentine maze of relentless cruelty, Eva’s story embodies the often-sticky mess that comes along with disabled life within an ableist society. Through a series of twists, turns, and mind-bending traumas, the film is wholly unpredictable, as if Lucky McKee’s May (2002) formed a noxious union with Mark Z. Danielewski’s novel House of Leaves.
While likely one of the most visually stunning and perfectly shot films I’ve ever seen, The Advent Calendar’s shocking display of violence nears the viciousness of Noe’s French Extremity Irréversible (2002) and can be exceedingly difficult to watch at times. Still, the film’s utilization of shimmering violence is bizarrely mesmerizing, especially through the ornately vibrant color palette and tenderly ethereal lighting. Without spoiling what I feel to be one of the most brilliant parts of the film that a magnificent scene called me back to one of my favorite horror films, The Night of the Hunter (1955). Again, without giving too much away, the scene in question was one of many in which the film links death with tranquil waters and additionally featured a spellbinding gradient of rich purple hues that took my literal breath away.
Cinematic as it is, I have about a million and one emotions for this film’s treatment of disability and systemic ableism. Living with both mobility issues, PTSD, and a love of ballet myself, I often related immensely to Eva’s experiences. While I consider myself a passionate advocate for disabled rights, I, like Eva, am also not immune to internalizing others’ ableism sometimes, especially when those around me underestimate me or make me feel useless because of my disabilities. Having said that, the film—though refreshingly honest in parts—can simultaneously feel very cruel, perhaps even losing its own ability occasionally to navigate such rampant ableism without devolving into said ableism itself. Still, I was grateful for the disabled lead, not only because this genre gravely lacks representation, but because the world does as well.
Though Patrick Ridremont’s The Advent Calendar will premiere in the (Saint) nick of time to kick-start Christmas, I’m hesitant to call it a Christmas gift...at least not in any traditional sense of the term. There is no such thing as a perfect film, and when it comes to living creatures, there’s no one-size-fits-all. I love this film, but, some components within are difficult to reconcile. There are multiple scenes that make me wonder how many disabled voices actually influenced the film’s plot and narrative. Even so, I assume no one’s ability or identity solely by looking at them, and, perhaps, disabled perspectives were more included than it seems. Nonetheless, I’d call The Advent Calendar a remarkable exploration of insidious brutality and enchanting terror, and I want to own a physical copy of it as soon as possible. While I’m a rabid fan of time and spatial horror, I’ve seen nothing quite like this.