
The Lament Configuration. Ouija boards. The Necronomicon. Disconnected landlines. Saying “Candyman” five times in front of a mirror. Conduits to other dimensions allow for lots of storytelling freedom. And Le Calendrier, aka, The Advent Calendar is no exception. But this Belgian/French co-production stands out as being unbelievably unique, if nothing else. And another worthy addition to the Christmas horror canon.
Paraplegic Eva is slogging her way through a career in insurance. Her best friend comes to Belgium via Germany for a visit, a large antique wooden/triptych advent calendar in tow. Before too long, a bored Eva is counting down to Christmas, opening doors and popping treats, which the Boschian-looking piece of furniture dutifully dispenses.
And like clockwork, every night at midnight, the calendar’s Jack-in-the-Box top pops, and says to Eva, “‘du musst jetzt öffnen,” which she does, leading to increasingly weird adventures.
One such trip is a reconnection to her father, who’s mute and suffering from Alzheimer’s dementia. However, when the calendar reveals an After Eight (pops’ favorite treat) he’s suddenly, though briefly, wholly communicative. Further confectionery portal revelations get odder and odder.
If this all sounds very idiosyncratic and weird – it is. But the performances are so grounded and so charming, you’ll be rewarded with a treat as well.
The Advent Calendar is casually paced, but different enough to resonate – especially this time of year.
***1/5 (out of 5)
