You’d think they were an invading army or something.
How would you price one of 200+ Santa’s helpers? Authentic Santa’s helpers, dressed up as the old guy?
Maybe $85,000?
And, of course, they’re, ah, docile, which means … No longer murderous?
That’s the final, implicit question in Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale (2010). A Finnish export, this is the tale of the consequences of a bunch of American miners working a small mountain in Lapland, Finland, home of the Sami, reindeer herders. One morning, a few Sami discover their herd has been slaughtered and eaten, much to their fury. One little boy, Pietari, who with a friend had snuck into the mining camp and seen some of the work, becomes quite worried, resolving to do some research, and it’s December 24th. Losing a herd is no laughing matter.
Krampus and some despicable children.
Source: Wikipedia (“A 1900s greeting card reading ‘Greetings from Krampus!’)
Pietari has some interesting books to use for his research, and soon he’s on to a Santa Claus who’s rather different from the jolly old fellow of old: ram’s horns adorn his forehead, and while he cares little for good little boys and girls, the bad ones, well, it’s the cauldron for them. At least in one drawing. At this juncture, my Arts Editor commented that the picture resembled what little she knew of the pre-Christian demon Krampus, as seen here on the right. Those are presumably bad children. Nice tongue.
Then it’s Christmas morning and Pietari’s father has caught something in the wolf pit trap, and that’s no wolf – it’s a dead, naked old man! At this moment, the neighbor who wears the Santa Claus costume shows up and is drafted into helping drag the corpse into the workshop. See, there’s this little problem: that trap is actually illegal. How to get around this fine point? They don’t know the old guy, so it’s the chainsaw for him.
Except he’s not dead, and they’re not murderers, so they wait for him to recover. Pietari’s not so happy, though, and manages to catch a ride into town with the local cops, who seem to be a trifle grumpy. His father pursues them and eventually catches up, where he learns of mysterious overnight thefts of radiators, stoves, and a hair-dryer. The husband of the owner of the hair-dryer blames it all on Russians, who have nothing so good. This man, who knows English, is recruited as an interpreter, as it’s obvious the old man is a miner.
And where are all the children?
Upon return, the neighbor is found outraged at having his ear bitten off by the old man. Furious, the three men and Pietari charge into the mining camp, but find it abandoned. A radio burps at them: Is the cargo ready? Is Santa Claus ready to fly? Smelling opportunity, they arrange to have the old man ready for delivery.
Sadly for the man who wants Santa to fly, what appears to be a glaive gives him a splitting headache, and, under attack by a passel of old men, the group retreats into a storage facility, where, from a block of ice thirty feet tall, there protrudes a monstrous pair of horns.
Well, this and that occurs, obstacles are overcome, and the story might even be funnier if you’re familiar with Finnish legends – I’m not, so I only laughed a little. But in the end, the group is faced with the problem of what to do with 200+ out of work Santa’s helpers.
For all that we might see the dour Finns classifying this as just a light-hearted romp, I see in it echoes of Ghostbusters (1984), because they share the theme of breaking the dominance of the Gods. These are the ancient, terrifying, brutal gods that rampaged through the lives of the helpless humans, treating them as toys or even treats – except now we must strike the word helpless, for the furious, desperate, resourceful men find a way to destroy a God, committing deicide – and finding a way to profit thereby. It’s the uplift of poor humanity from being the mat on which the Gods wiped their feet to insurgents who challenge for the right to live free of the arbitrary rules and destruction brought on by a mysterious Divine.
That gives the story more than transitory meaning. I felt the balance of the work – the cinematography, acting, pacing, story – were all adequate or more than adequate. I particularly liked Pietari, a steady little boy who sees more clearly than most. This is both tensely well-told as well as fairly amusing. If you’re in the mood for a closely observed few Christmas hours in a foreign land still latched to a foreign mythology, then this story may be for you.
