Why You Should Absolutely Watch Eli Roth’s Thanksgiving This ThanksgivingEven If You Have Seen It Twenty Times Already
Every November, people gather to celebrate family, food, and the ancient human tradition of pretending everything is fine while slowly being crushed by seasonal stress. But here at Stalk and Slash, we know a far better way to honour the holiday spirit. Forget the turkey. Forget the parade. Forget sitting politely while Uncle Barry explains why cranberry sauce was better in the seventies. What you should really be doing this Thanksgiving is rewatching Eli Roth’s Thanksgiving.
Yes, that Thanksgiving. The slasher so gleefully nasty it somehow delivered on a fake trailer joke from Grindhouse and turned it into a proper movie with actual money behind it. It is a film that understands the true meaning of the holiday which is to say, absolutely nothing to do with pilgrims or gratitude and everything to do with an unhinged killer in a costume causing the kind of chaos that would make even Black Friday shoppers pause and reconsider their life choices.
Thanksgiving deserves to be an annual tradition. If people can watch Hocus Pocus every Halloween and Die Hard every Christmas, then you can absolutely carve out ninety minutes once a year for a murderous maniac turning a kitchen into a blood soaked art installation. It is festive. It is seasonal. It is cultural enrichment, depending on who you ask.
The movie itself is a glorious throwback to eighties slashers and it knows it. Eli Roth leans in with the enthusiasm of a man who waited sixteen years to turn a fake trailer into a real feature and refuses to waste a single drop of the budget. The kills are creative. The tone is wickedly funny. The gore sits somewhere between outrageous and culinary which feels appropriate for the holiday. Thanksgiving is a slasher that goes full buffet mode. It does not hold back. It does not apologise. It simply arrives at the table and asks how you would like your victim carved.
And speaking of carving, the practical gore effects remain some of the finest in recent mainstream horror. This movie is a gift for anyone who appreciates practical splatter. Yes, that means you. Do not pretend you clicked on this article for wholesome family viewing suggestions. You are here because you have taste.
Now let us talk about the sequel. Or rather the rumour of the sequel. The phantom sequel. The ghost of Thanksgiving future that continues to hover around Hollywood meetings while refusing to move an inch into actual production. Roth has spoken openly about wanting to continue the story. Fans want it. The first film was a financial success. The cliffhanger ending practically jumps up and down waving its arms and screaming, set up, right here, do something with me. And yet, as of now, nothing. We look at the empty space where the sequel should be every year like we are staring at the extra place setting for Elijah at Passover. Maybe this will be the year. Maybe not.
This is yet another reason to rewatch the original. It keeps the dream alive. It reminds the universe that we have not forgotten. It is our way of performing a seasonal ritual to summon the sequel into existence. Think of it as horror fan witchcraft. The more people watch it, the more likely it appears on a studio ledger as a profitable choice. If watching Thanksgiving again gets us even one inch closer to Thanksgiving Part Two, then it is practically a civic duty.
Rewatching it also gives you an excuse to introduce it to unsuspecting relatives. There is no greater bonding experience than watching a sweet aunt gasp loudly as a character is dispatched in a creatively tasteless manner. It is the kind of shared experience that brings families together and occasionally tears them apart, depending on their constitution. Either way, it is festive.
So this year, as you sit down to your plate of turkey, stuffing, potatoes, and that sad bowl of peas no one asked for, remember that you can enrich your holiday by pressing play on Thanksgiving. Rediscover the kills. Revisit the absurdity. Relive the joy of a slasher that understands that sometimes the best way to celebrate a holiday is to drench it in buckets of fake blood and grin at the absurdity of life.
We will be watching it. You should too. Make it a tradition. Make it annual. Make it meaningful. And if a sequel is finally announced next year, we will of course take full credit.
