Introduction

Creature features and monster movies have enjoyed great popularity on the screen for many decades. In the 1950s, they mostly appeared in the form of radiation-mutated animals and humans, with giant spiders (Tarantula, 1956, or The Curse of the Black Widow, 1958), vengeful bloodsuckers (Attack of the Giant Leeches, 1959), or amorphous blobs (The Blob, 1958, or The H-Man, 1958) haunting movie screens. In the 1960s, alien creatures and giant reptiles (kaiju) took over, while the 1970s once again returned to animals—this time no longer suffering from gigantism as in the 1950s, but rather from severe behavioral disorders caused by mankind itself.

Cute little animals turned into bloodthirsty beasts: killer rabbits (Rabbits, 1972), monster sheep (Godmonster of Indian Flats, 1973), and Kingdom of the Spiders (1977) are just a few absurd examples that illustrate how the creature feature had already conjured up the craziest creations imaginable and never tired of developing ever more unhinged ideas. One could easily fill several pages on the monster movie alone, but today’s film takes things in a slightly different direction.

In recent years, a new “subgenre” emerged that rode the Asylum shark-wave and brought various household items and otherwise lifeless objects to life through cheap animation, unleashing them upon humanity. In the 1970s, we still had the famous killer tomatoes; in the 2010s, we got a Killer Sofa (2019), killer donuts (Attack of the Killer Donuts, 2016), or killer jeans, as recently seen in Slaxx (2020). A whole wave of previously neglected objects has since been recycled in the cheapest direct-to-video productions imaginable.

So it was only a matter of time before this trend reached the current season—the contemplative Christmas season. And that’s exactly what happens in The Killing Tree from 2022. Why the German release title ended up being another English title remains completely baffling to me, since the film was released in the U.S. as Demonic Christmas Tree, which essentially amounts to the same thing anyway. It doesn’t take much imagination to guess what the film is about, so let’s not waste any more time and dive straight into this cinematic revelation.

Plot

The film admittedly begins on a fairly atmospheric note. It doesn’t even look all that bad, and the absence of a total bargain-basement look—something many films of this ilk inevitably suffer from—initially gave me a bit of hope. To be fair, I haven’t seen too many entries from this subgenre so far, but those I did see were, well… rather sobering.

Inside a Gothic castle, we witness an old woman rambling about God and the world before starting a ritual meant to bring her husband back from the realm of the dead. Said husband, as we quickly learn from a conveniently placed newspaper, was no saint but rather the “killer of the twelve Christmas murders.”

To live up to the title, the old woman naturally places a Christmas tree in the middle of a sloppily drawn pentagram. Why? Because the ritual demands it, of course. Why wouldn’t it?

Once the spell is spoken, the killer tree awakens in a POV shot using a green-tinted lens, marveling at its new body. His wife can’t quite process this development, but that hardly matters—true to his name, the tree promptly kills his helper without even bothering to say thank you. As she writhes on the floor and struggles with death, the delinquent pine tree already selects its next victim: a young woman he failed to get to before his arrest. By what criteria this murderous piece of shrubbery selects its victims—both then and now—remains just as mysterious as the film’s overall purpose.

The tree sets off on its journey, leaping through the castle window into newfound freedom via a hideous animation. Having now established our protagonist (more or less) in a beginning that is admittedly kind of funny (more or less), things quickly become less amusing. We are immediately assaulted by some of the most atrocious and badly acted dialogue imaginable. Another major flaw is the German dub, which is not only terrible but also extremely quiet, forcing the viewer to constantly adjust the volume.

Anyway, moving on.

We’re introduced to Faith, apparently the final intended victim of the Christmas killer. Now a freshly minted orphan, she sits in a glossy designer room, mournfully stroking a photo of her murdered parents while performing a grotesque facial circus as she discusses the murders with her friend. A flashback finally explains why the now-arboreal murderer committed all those crimes in the first place. He used to be a washed-up rocker wearing John Lennon glasses who, together with his wife, wanted to spread a “message” because people had supposedly forgotten the true meaning of Christmas. Naturally, this meant randomly slaughtering people. As you can see, the film boasts a deeply philosophical, sociological, and socially critical subtext.

In another unintentionally amusing scene, we watch him break into a house and murder his next victim—or rather, we don’t really see it, since the victim apparently isn’t lying in bed but next to it on the floor, making the act of dying frustratingly hard to observe.

Back in the present, he finally gets to commit his first “proper” murder in his new wooden form (killing his wife was just a crime of passion, that doesn’t really count), and in the most nonsensical way imaginable. While the tree consults a map in search of Faith’s house, a seemingly drunk man comes by looking for trouble and is promptly strangled by two, well… “tentacle-like arms” of the tree.

After Faith says goodbye to a friendly married couple, a completely pointless subplot is introduced, featuring two women discussing their relationship. It’s nearly impossible to follow due to the nonsensical dialogue and poor audio levels.

Cut to a rather lifeless party in the basement that Faith attends after being pressured by her friend (why there’s a party at all remains a mystery). More pointless, wooden—appropriately enough—dialogue ensues. Another flashback shows the self-proclaimed Christmas avenger leaving Faith’s house after completing his “day’s work” (i.e., murdering her parents) and awkwardly following her as she flees.

Next up, the friendly married couple meets their fate when the Christmas tree blocks the road. The man asks, “Is that a tree?”—“Do you think one of Faith’s friends forgot it here?” Anyone asking questions this stupid has it coming, and the two are quickly dispatched by the tree killer.

Back at the party, two guests decide to leave (do they even have names? Possibly, but it doesn’t matter—I probably just didn’t hear them). One of them claims she can’t stand Faith’s negative aura. Very empathetic. They head to the nearby pool—because what else would one do in December? Meanwhile, Faith goes outside with her friend Becky, who is inexplicably dressed in some kind of awkward costume I couldn’t even identify, just to “talk.”

Faith apologizes for not always being there for her and explains that some friend of hers collapsed due to exam anxiety and was institutionalized. I mention the content of this “conversation” only to point out that watching this film might also land you in an institution.

Back at the pool, the two continue their inane chatter. Becky then has the brilliant idea of playing tennis with Faith (I no longer question anything) and even blindfolds her for the occasion. Their romantic poolside interlude is interrupted by the Christmas tree, which kills both women with its tentacles and tears them apart. Becky suffers this fate after just two strikes, while Faith flees into the house, where the remaining guests leave after witnessing her “nervous breakdown.”

Outside, they are promptly massacred. Inside the house, the group splits up. One tries to escape through the garden but is killed by one of the tree’s “ninja stars.” To make matters worse, the string attached to the star is clearly visible. I assume this was intentional—self-irony and all that.

Inside, someone finds a shotgun, but its blasts prove ineffective. She is strangled with Christmas lights.

Somehow, Faith and her friend are the last ones left and hide. What follows is barely describable, slipping through the cracks of my rapidly dwindling attention span. At some point, the tree sings, argues with an inanimate Christmas tree in the corner, and laughs incessantly in the most annoying way possible. Eventually, Faith’s friend dies, while Faith manages to flee into the woods, only to be found again by the sadistic Christmas tree and tied up with tinsel.

But wait—salvation is at hand! Her parents descend from the sky as a glowing tree and promptly turn the evil Christmas tree killer into a pile of burning brushwood. Faith survives, her friends somehow return as well, and… there’s a happy end! Just not for the viewer. Phew.

Let’s start with the positive: the film has a runtime of only 74 minutes. The negative: every minute after the first ten is one too many.

Ultimately, The Killing Tree isn’t even an exceptionally bad film—of course, within the context of its genre. Anyone accustomed to Asylum junk and one-euro bargain-bin DVDs will be familiar with this level of atrocious dubbing, acting, and effects, so there’s little point in dwelling on them further (as you can tell, I’m not a fan of Asylum and the like—quite the opposite).

The only mildly surprising thing is that the camera occasionally holds still and even performs a few movements instead of shaking epileptically like in other productions. Everything else here lacks any sense of skill or talent. And while the look and scenery aren’t even that terrible (they just don’t fit the Christmas theme at all), the film remains irritating throughout.

In many films of this kind, the gimmick—the title and idea—is already the best part, but that alone doesn’t make a good movie. Killer sofas, donuts, or Christmas trees may sound amusing, but the idea wears itself out so quickly here that the cheap appearances of the titular tree become painful and induce nothing but eye-rolling. Creativity is completely absent.

There’s no snowy Christmas atmosphere (there isn’t even any snow, and the production was apparently either too cheap or too lazy to provide artificial snow), no humor, no interesting ideas. In fact, they could have used any other object—it makes no sense for the tree to carry out its kills with tentacles instead of using the weapons readily available to it, such as Christmas ornaments, pine needles, or whatever else. Anything would have made more sense than tentacles. Sure, it strangles a few people with Christmas lights, but that’s about it.

The rest is useless, bargain-basement CGI sludge that doesn’t fit the core idea at all—an idea that could have been turned into something genuinely amusing. On top of that, the film takes itself completely seriously, at least that’s how it feels. No humor, no self-awareness, nothing but a generic plot, stupid dialogue, and atrocious effects. Neither gory nor creative, it’s forgettable mush of the worst kind, something we’ve already seen dozens of times before and will undoubtedly see dozens of times again.

I’m generally open to Christmas horror. I quite like the Jack Frost films, as well as Krampus—the former because they show self-irony and make use of the theme, the latter because of its excellent atmosphere. The Killing Tree has none of that. And speaking of Christmas horror, it’s a shame that screenwriter Craig McLearie also recycled Jack Frost and Krampus into the cheapest trash imaginable with Curse of Jack Frost and Return of Krampus, both from 2022. Serious productions are nowhere to be found in his résumé.

As if the complete lack of logic in the characters’ actions wasn’t enough, the film also tortures the viewer with filler scenes just to limp past the 70-minute mark.

Director Rhys Frake-Waterfield does an especially terrible job. Not only did he co-write the script, but according to a quick look at IMDb, he has so far cobbled together nothing but similar junk and also produced Curse of Jack Frost. More recently, he made a “name” for himself with Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey, which—judging by what I’ve heard—also fails to deliver on its premise and only received a theatrical release due to the exploitation of well-known children’s characters. The man seems convinced of his own talent, however, as IMDb already lists 23 “upcoming” projects, all with titles that sound like they were generated by an Asylum mockbuster generator.

I won’t waste many more words on the “actors”: across the board, they are absolutely dreadful, annoying, and unbelievably dim-witted—enough to make you want to smash the screen.

Conclusion

What more is there to say? For me, The Killing Tree was a complete disaster, an endlessly stupid bargain-bin film that genuinely made me angry. In—okay, almost—all respects, it’s bottom-of-the-barrel bad and irritating beyond belief.

Sit down. F.