The holidays are ripe for horror, as evidenced by the large amount of genre fare taking place around Christmas. Michael Gabriele’s Unholy Night is unequivocally holiday horror, but it distinguishes itself by specifically focalizing its story through an Italian perspective, which provides the horrific backstory when “ritornati” – zombie-like iterations of dead loved ones – return to crash the festivities.
The action starts off immediately as a teen girl (Morgan Saunders) survives a brutal encounter that requires a sad familial sacrifice. This is eventually revealed to be a haunting incident from Lucia’s (Toni Ellwand) childhood; the woman is now a mother of three adult children: Franky (Oliver Renaud), Angela (Cristina Rosato) and protagonist Gino (Marc Bendavid).
Gino isn’t exactly the black sheep of the family, but he is the subject of the family’s judgmental commentary. Whereas his older siblings have promising careers and are married, to Marissa (Celia Owen) and Trevor (David Light) respectively, Gino still lives at home, works as a paint specialist, and hasn’t dated anyone since his ex, Rene (Shailene Garnett). The fact that they broke up because he never told his family they were dating speaks volumes about both Gino and his relationship with his family.
When the extended clan gathers for Christmas dinner, the reverie is interrupted by the unexpected arrival of Gino’s Nonna (Jacqueline Robbins) in the kitchen making her famously too-salty pasta sauce. The only problem: Nonna has been dead for a while.
Unlike most other zombie films, Unholy Dead gets a lot of mileage out of its unique depiction of zombies. Plural, because Nonna isn’t the only one who came back for some Christmas cheer. The film taps into another traditional aspect of the holiday, embodied by the classic A Christmas Carol, in which the living and the dead interact and make amends. At least initially, it seems as if the ritornati have some regrets or unfinished business to attend to before the night is out.
As a concept, there’s plenty of potential here. These zombies aren’t here for brains; they have the capacity for conversation, which allows Gino to apologize for the way he acted in the last days leading up to Nonna’s death, or for Lucia to confess that she wasn’t always sure if her mother loved her. The cathartic interactions between the living and the dead are where Unholy Night works best.
This is still a horror film, however, and a bloody one at that. Nonna’s introduction has a body count because – while these creatures have the capacity for dialogue – they’re also prone to fits of rage, accompanied by a supernatural strength that facilitates plenty of bloody damage. Gabriele visually cues the audience that a rampage is imminent by changing the ritornati’s eyes to reddish orange; this tends to precede characters having their heads slammed against walls, being choked to death, having their necks broken or, in one of the film’s best FX moments, a wooden spoon being forcibly shoved all the way down someone’s throat.
Between Lucia’s opening attack and Nonna’s rampage, Unholy Night certainly gets off to a violent, visceral bang. After that, the film settles into something of a siege film as the remaining family members hunker down. Additional details eventually come to light which confirm that other people are under attack, causing Gino and Rene to hypothesize about who or what has prompted the return of the living dead.
Unfortunately, when it comes to lore and the rules governing these creatures, that’s where Unholy Night loses its way.
Gabriele’s screenplay takes a page from It Follows by having characters make assumptions that don’t entirely pan out, but while there’s power in subverting expectations, both the characters’ and the audience’s, Unholy Night is seemingly unsure of its own internal logic. Why does a ritornati react in one way, but another does not? There’s a lack of consistency that, rather than generate surprise or suspense, becomes increasingly frustrating as the film progresses. The rules of this world don’t make sense, and Gabriele seems unconcerned by the fact.
There are also too many people onscreen, both living and undead, leading to a wealth of underdeveloped characters and half-conflicts. This becomes more challenging in the climax when the film introduces a brand new location and supernatural element. It looks cool, but the film’s final set piece feels incongruous with what came before and raises more questions than answers.
Overall, the second half of the film is the weaker of the two. The longer Unholy Night goes on, the more repetitive and depreciating its attacks become, and the film never recovers the highs of its opening. By the time the existential crisis of the climax arrives, Unholy Night has stalled out.
Not helping matters are the low stakes of the last act when the film actively begins to pull its punches by allowing multiple characters who should be dead to miraculously survive. While its sentimental emotional beats are doing a lot of the heavy lifting keeping the film afloat, the back half of Unholy Night nevertheless still feels like a bit of a slog.
The film may have some good violence, and the central relationship between Gino, his critical family, and his romance with Rene are solid, but by the time the credits roll, Unholy Night has long overstayed its holiday welcome.
Unholy Night made its world premiere at the 2026 Fantasia International Film Festival. Release info TBD.
