People take issue with each other. Nobody knows how awful Christmas will be for everyone involved. The son, his girlfriend, his dad who is full of coiled tension, his useless mother, his vile sister and her gormless boyfriend and the extraordinarily hostile granddad hang out. The sister, Kate, is knocked up. There is contamination of the present.
Everything prompts anger and resentment. Whatever dreams the girlfriend had for the relationship are not met. This may or may not be a Brexit analogy. There are vicious and sustained furious reactions to every remark. Things lurch from crisis to crisis. There is mumbling and the family seem wilfully detached and are contentious. There is a catastrophic collapse of normality on Christmas Day as well as terrible decisions, underlying antipathy and bitter contempt. There is weirdness and is TV static still a thing?
A message appears on the TV. Nobody is moving toward joy. Things are emotionally uncomfortable. Weird metal covers the doors and windows and there is no way out. There are emotional outbursts and how is there air? There is psychological danger and silent threats. The clocks have stopped and there is a sense of defeat and no placating effect. Kate is very vindictive. There are ethical missteps and no internet. Resentment flares in the bitter reality. Kate’s gormless boyfriend is thick. The clan cannot endure, tolerate or comfort each other.
Tony, the dad, has suspect motives. There is mutual suspicion, sorrowful utterances, lamentations and antagonism. Things are unsettling with the weirdly organic looking metal blocking every egress and the TV telling people what to do. Men withhold affection. Tony demands Christmas Dinner be served. There are recriminations, rigid notions and lingering negativity. The house is not a supportive environment.
Things are sombre and emotions are inflamed. The TV tells them the food is contaminated. The family are convincingly awful. There is emotional coercion and they’re told to decontaminate with bleach and Dad rubs his flabby arse in close-up. People have a shopping list of grievances. A bunch of dirty syringes drop down the chimney and it’s a ‘vaccination kit’ - ewwww.
The unforeseen change in circumstances has a socially destabilising effect. Scott loses fingers but seems to walk it off. The mother is useless. The girlfriend is scapegoat. People are disengaged from sense. No wonder the son had a pervasive negative association with his family. Why is Kate such a dumb bitch? She deserved what happened to her.
A calamity is unfolding. Why is the mother talking to the TV? There is no letup as a full blown crisis unfolds. Kate is dying. There is a tense standoff and an air of uncertainty. The son, Nick, tries to maintain calm but fails. Tony’s level of aggression rises. Nick gets a glimpse of what’s outside.
There is death, the useless mother Beth gets even more useless, Tony does unrelenting awfulness and gas comes in. There is bad CGI and Annji tries to do good. Demonic invaders bother the clan. There are disturbing implications and the family are their own worst enemy. They’re susceptible to an evil that comes from within. Hard men and macho recklessness take place. The emotional ordeal goes on.
There is no calm peacefulness. The ending is WTF. Poor Nick (Sam Gittins), Why was Tony (Grant Masters) so crazy? And why was granddad (David Bradley) so awful?
“Shall I get the dictionary? Again.”
“Protect your family.”
“They had tricks to fool you.”
“How long have you been plotting this?”
“What if it’s in every TV?”
“Shovelling sprouts into our faces.”
“Also not an infection!”
“Could it be a reality show?”
“Can I count on you?”
“Now we’re safe.”
“Better than we are!”
“Stop listening to the TV!”
“Everything happens for a reason. Even this.”
“The house is the safe.”