HAPPY 2009

Hope you had fun with this year's X-mas Wrath. Although I didn't get to 31 movies, I did have a ball getting to 29.

Thanks for visiting Tremendo Time and keep on reading. Coming on Monday, January 5th, 2009:

An entire month of Science Fiction Movies!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

SPACEMEN & GO-GO GIRLS AND THE TRUE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS (2004)

Holiday Movie Category: Lookee Ma, Santy brought me a Camera, kuh-hyuk!

THE CARD:

My Grandma's 1986 video camera, my Grandpa's video editing system, my retarded hamster's writing skills, the director's flat-chested neighborhood floozies, a script where the epitome of comedy is Uranus jokes, and a planet where apes evolved from shitty home movie makers.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

A couple of idiots from Uranus (get it? Yuk-yuk!) with ping-pong balls on springs hooked on their heads travel to Earth to retrieve a vital fuel source: mistletoe. They land on the campus of the University of Ottawa and vaporize a couple of dumbass Canucks. Their aggression sparks the attention of a team of dorky girls fresh out of high school drama class who are self-proclaimed martial arts experts and protectors of the planet. Their crime-fighting abilities consist of dancing like blind strippers and pushing and shoving. Eventually, they cross paths with the two dorks and a battle (?) ensues and then everyone dances to really crappy go-go music for TEN FRICKIN' MINUTES. Apparently the true meaning of Christmas is making me weep at the sight of incompetent filmmaking, cheap jokes, and K-mart clad plain Janes pretending to be sexy.

THE FINISHER:

OK, so I'm desperate. I'm at a loss because I'm really scraping the bottom of the barrel trying to eke out 31 entries in this year's X-mas Wrath. With Spacemen & Go-Go Girls and the True Meaning of Christmas, I'm scraping about three feet under the barrel. This thing is apparently a student film project from Canada and a bad tribute to B-movies with little redeeming entertainment value. The girls are so-so, the jokes are beyond childish, and the special effects are, well, special. I can see where this might appeal to those of us who enjoy bad movies, but it's so self-conscious and campy that I cannot recommend it for a night of video mockery. On the plus side, it was only 30 minutes.

THE SPIRIT (2008)

Holiday Movie Category: A Lump of Coal from a Comic Book Guy

THE CARD:

Curly clones, Ham L. Jackson, Scarlett Juggs-hansson, Miss Isringhausen, shorts-filling Mendes goodness, Sin City table scraps, a screenplay by a 12-year-old chronic masturbator, and more dolled-up poontang than a Brazilian whorehouse.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Denny Colt (Gabriel Macht) is a Central City cop who's murdered by evil geneticist/mobster/over-actor The Octopus (Samuel L. Jackson) whose corpse is injected with a drug that regenerates dead tissue. Colt returns from the dead as The Spirit, a mysterious and invincible figure who helps the cops clean up the city from crime gone haywire. While he's at war with this criminal mastermind who seems to possess the same recuperative powers as he does, a woman from his past reenters his life, Sand Saref (Eva Mendes). She was Colt's childhood sweetheart who turned into a notorious jewel thief with black widow tendencies. She's back in town to trade a valuable vase containing the blood of Hercules or some such shit in exchange for the mythical golden fleece of Jason flame that's in Octopuses' possession. Octopus believes that the blood of Hercules will not only make him invincible, but immortal. So The Spirit gets his ass kicked by Octopus' wacky-named clones (Louis Lombardi) and is thwarted left and right by his busty assistant Silken Floss (Scarlett Johannson), and is bitched out by his irritable police Capt. Dolan (Dan Lauria), and his lovesick doctor daughter Ellen (Sarah Paulson). And somewhere between the time I fell asleep and I went to the can, the movie found a third act and, um, ended.

THE FINISHER:
Frank Miller was my pusher. And I blame him for my near financial ruin. I was a casual comic book reader as kid, occasionally picking through random issues of Godzilla or fumetti-style El Santo Mexican paperbacks. But the whole comic book thing never caught on with me, that is until 1985. That's when I picked up Miller's Batman: The Dark Knight Returns. From that moment on I was amazed, mesmerized, and hooked. Miller's bleak genre-transforming epic was my gateway drug and for twenty-three years I've spent more on comics than on sweatsocks, bottled water, and donuts combined. He kept me coming back for more with his Batman: Year One, Elektra Assassin, and Daredevil: Born Again, all brilliant books. But then something happened to him, I'm guessing sometime in the mid-90s. He got pissed. He started writing angry stories like the messy and gory 300 and the grisly but satirical Hard Boiled. He topped himself during this phase of his career with the Sin City books, a collection of ultra-violent film noir stories that led to the 2004 film of the same name. He wrote the script and co-directed the movie with Robert Rodriguez and the movie's success landed him less comic book gigs and a burgeoning film making career. But he's still pissed.

And this pissy attitude rubbed off on me as I exited the theater after watching Miller's The Spirit, a stab at updating a relatively obscure, seventy-year-old comic character with state of the art movie magic, profanity, boobies, and a shitty script. Seriously, every actor is trying their damnedest to do something with what little is here, but the dopey, ponderous, childish script is leading them nowhere. In all honestly, I was really looking forward to what Miller could with The Spirit despite the Gigli-esque buzz surrounding this thing like a yak's turd. What should have been a brainless breezy ride turns out to be nothing but a boring, tedious debacle. The little action in the film is broken up by long stretches of hideously long-winded and deadening dialog and exposition. The visual aspect is fine, but it's not anymore innovative than the Sin City look extended to one 110-minute story. The movie's only saving grace is exploiting the curvy figure and pant-tightening qualities of Miss Mendes, but that's it. There's no suspense, no intrigue, and certainly nothing of interest in this disappointing clunker.

My pusher needs to get back to the drawing board, scribe some funny books and get me a fix.

NOTE: OK, so this isn't technically an X-mas movie. But there's lots of snow, the seasonal color red is dabbed on-screen here and there, and I saw this movie on X-mas day. So there.

THE MUPPET CHRISTMAS CAROL (1992)

Holiday Movie Category: A Hand Puppet Humbug

THE CARD:

Michael Candy Caine, Gonzho-ho-ho, Merry Kermit-mas, Fa-La-La-La-Lozzy Bear, Miss Piggy Pudding, Statler Claus & Deck the Waldorf, and a horrid Dickensian cesspool where poverty reigns, ghastly spirits kidnap at will, and frogs and pigs mate unabatedly.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Dude, if I have to summarize the ubiquitous Dickens' A Christmas Carol to you, then you are totally clueless. But deep down, I envy you.

THE FINISHER:

The Muppet Christmas Carol is my second dose of merry Muppet mayhem this X-mas Wrath and surprisingly, I'm not yet sick to death of fuzzy holiday cheer. Well, the Muppets have tackled Manhattan, space, Treasure Island, and zombies* so why not X-mas? Instant holiday classic pie filling, right Chuckles? No, not necessarily. The original Dickens story is largely a dark downer of a tale with only a brief glimpse of hope at the end as the payoff. Combining the depressing human drama of redemption and greed with the furry lovable Muppet critters doesn't always work. Maybe we'd have had something if the entire flick was played for yucks throughout and was all-Muppet. Although fine for the kiddies, the movie is just another Christmas Carol version in a sea of other much more effective interpretations which I find a little difficult to recommend for older folks. The Muppet Christmas Carol barely kept my interest with mushy songs and unfamiliar midcard Muppets (including the hateful Ratso Rizzo), but thankfully that annoying porkster Miss Piggy was kept out until the beginning of the third act. All I really have is regret that they haven't tackled the It's a Wonderful Life angle. Kermit is set to lose the Muppet theater due to going default on this bank loan. Then the angel Jim Henson who's yet to earn his wings has to help ol' Kermit from swinging from the rafters on X-mas Eve. We see a world without Kermit, without the Muppets, and without Henson's cash cow filling Disney's coffers. Hell, you can even bring in Sesame Street's Ernie and Bert to play the cab driver and the cop, Oscar the Grouch as Mr. Potter, and Big Bird as the voice of God! Box office gold. Henson Studios: call me!

*My back-up pitch.

CHRISTMAS WITH THE KRANKS (2004)

Holiday Movie Category: Christmas With the Shits

THE CARD:

The Sham in Grisham, floppy hermy boobs, an embarrassed Ray Stanz, an ashamed Loren Visser, and the man who's ruined more X-mases than the '08 recession.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Luther and Nora Krank (Tim Allen and Jamie Lee Curtis) decide to skip X-mas and save their money and go on a cruise. As a result, this rankles their friends, co-workers, and neighbors who treat their decision, which in a free country they are entitled to make, with various degrees of low-key to outward hostility. First, their Hallmark store owner freaks out at the thought of loss of $25 in card sales. Then, Luther's co-workers treat him like crap and shun him from their workplace X-mas festivities. Then they are harassed by neighbors such as the X-mas fanatic (Dan Ackroyd) and the old coot (M. Emmett Walsh) when they don't put out their traditional Frosty the Monstrosity decoration. And finally, they are gang-raped by X-mas carolers. No, not really, but that would have made my X-mas night as I struggled to stomach this piece of unfunny, inhumane, and execrable holiday cinematic torture.

THE FINISHER:

Ok, let's just cut to the chase because I have a nasty post-Xmas food and drink hangover to nurse. To call Christmas with the Kranks a bad X-mas movie would be an affront to bad X-mas movies. To describe it as a waste of time would mply that I spent any reasonable amount of time arriving at that conclusion. To watch this movie in order to make my 31 X-mas movies in 31 days goal for X-mas Wrath while friends and family party in the next room is a violation of all that is X-mas and akin to drop-kicking Baby Jesus into the next stable. This movie falls so flat that you can smear it with butter and syrup and dig in to a hearty breakfast. This movie is so irritating that it would not respond to triple antibiotic cream. This movie is so hateful, enervating, and intellectually caustic that I almost stopped it and went to see The Spirit instead. Almost. It's only saving grace is that it finally exposes the hacky cheesiness of airport novelist John Grisham upon whose Skipping Christmas this was based. I've seen a lot of crap this X-mas Wrath. But nothing took me to the breaking point quicker than this film. And I don't care if this wasn't enlightening criticism or sharp analysis. I lost out on Santa Blackjack and eggnog shots to watch this crap. And if that isn't enough to make you want to punch Tim Allen in the face the next time you see him, then I have failed as a film geek, as a cinema lover, and a human being.

JOYEUX NOËL (2005)

Holiday Movie Category: Saving Private Jesus

THE CARD:

No Santa, no reindeer, no Wal-Mart, no fruitcake, no greeting cards, no turkey, no presents, no wrapping paper, no cheap sentiment, only a moving statement on the human condition in times of morbid desperation. Oh, and candy canes!

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

X-mas Eve, 1914, the Western Front. The Scotts, the French, and their enemy the Germans are in a stalled battled and everyone’s nerves on are edge on all sides. We meet two Scottish brothers and their vicar who enlisted in the army after the declaration of war was announced. One of the brothers dies in battle and the vicar, now a tough-as-nails medic, tries to comfort the other anguished brother. We meet an officious French lieutenant who must deal with his equally officious General father and his high expectations. And we meet German husband/wife opera singers separated by the war, but reunited on X-mas Eve to sing to the troops in the trenches. In one miraculous moment, the three factions are united by song and they agree to an unofficial X-mas ceasefire. They sing, drink, bury their dead, and play football the following morning. Unfortunately, they all must face the consequences for their actions for displaying humanity in an inhumane situation but the impact of this true story left a mark on the legacy of World War I and the unifying power of the holiday.

THE FINISHER:

Joyeux Noel is a heartfelt, visually arresting film with a somber, if a bit heavy-handed, anti-war message. The film focuses not so much about the brutality and mindlessness of war (a given); it’s more about the simple things that unite human beings despite our tenacity to kill each other. However, at times the movie may be a little too eager to uplift, given that the true outcome of the truce and the fate of the men who participated is kind of a downer. But the film manages to make up for with terrific characters and wonderful ending. The story of the X-mas truce is a remarkable one and Joyeux Noel tells it with gentile humor and simple grace. And it’s comforting to know that for one brief moment in history a group of men was able to put down their guns, share some cheer, and forget the war if only for a single day.

MERRY X-MAS!

SILENT NIGHT, DEADLY NIGHT (1984)

Holiday Movie Category: Then One Bloody X-mas Eve, Satan Came to Slay

THE CARD:

A Krampus Grandpa, child psychology Catholic Church-style, a humping nun, a whipping nun, the ultimate case of holiday stress, a discount Ruth Buzzi, horrible original X-mas carols, and a head-cracking, Mommy-raping, throat-slashing, cock-blocking, disemboweling, axe-slinging, defenestrating, noggin-chopping Santa Claus who ... Good Lord I need a shower ...

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Billy (Robert Brian Wilson) had it rough as a kid, as in Kandahar orphanage rough. On fire. After witnessing the murder of his parents by a gun-toting Santa, Billy and his little baby brother get shipped to a orphanage run by a sadistic Mother Superior (Lilyan Chauvin) where his deep psychological damage and irrational fear of Santa is worsened by her maltreatment. She screams at him, humiliates him, and whips the shit out of him. Sympathetic Sister Margaret (Gilmer McCormick) tries to help the boy, and when he turns eighteen and is built like a brick shithouse, she gets him a job as a stockboy at a busy toy store. He does a good job and seems to be on the road to normalcy, but when X-mas rolls around, trouble begins to surface. He develops a romantic interest for plain ol' Pamela (Toni Nero), but she's got the hots for Billy's minuscule supervisor. During the office X-mas party, Pam and Billy's midget boss hump in the back of the store, much to Billy's dismay. So he reaches the breaking point (and a boner) and snaps. In full-on Santa toy store garb, he starts slashing prices and necklines with a variety of discounted implements. And this Psycho Santa is coming to town to boost the body count, get even with Mother Superior, and maybe take some naughty kiddies with him to ho-ho-Hell!

THE FINISHER:

So far in this year's X-mas Wrath, we've seen elfsploitation, treesploitation, jewsploitation, and now Santasploitation, the most comprehensive of the X-mas horror subgenre. Silent Night, Deadly Night is the granddaddy of the Santa slasher flicks and is probably the best of the lot. Others include the similarly titled Silent Night, Bloody Night and Christmas Evil, both of which go down as easy as Lincoln-era fruitcake. This horror flick has decent gore, adequate performances, and an unclean, discomforting, exploitative feel that's sure to kill your holiday buzz, but in a good way. The movie generated quite a bit of publicity during its initial release as parents and decency groups decried the horrific depiction of St. Nick, children's figure into Satan Claws, no-good-nicks' coffin filler. And I guess they had a point. There's nothing enlightening or worthwhile thematically about the movie. It's just an excuse to release the inner Vorhees out of jolly old Santa and make a few bucks to show for the effort. And it's a pretty good effort, in a mindless horror fanatic kind of way. On its own terms set to fright, gross-out, and exploit, Silent Night, Deadly Night succeeds despite its twisted, ugly, and Scroogish desecration of an X-mas icon.

HAPPY X-MAS EVE!

THREE HOLIDAY TV CLASSICS - PART TWO

Three more holiday TV classics are featured in this second part entry about three holiday TV classics. What the &*@# more do you need to know?

THE CARD:

Unarmed postal monsters, fuzzy man-sized critters that aren’t your weird Uncle’s Internet friends, Beaker the Pimp, a likable Drew Barrymore role, yellow-people-less Matt Groening, Joey Pants the Penguin, a non-shakey Scrooge, Meredith Baxter-Goofy, and plenty of sitcom holiday schmaltz.

A MUPPET CHRISTMAS: LETTERS TO SANTA (2008)

THE ANGLE:

X-mas Eve finds the Muppets gang in line at the post office where they manage to almost destroy the postal service when they try to “help out”. Unfortunately in all the confusion, Gonzo brings home two undelivered letters to Santa, including one for a little girl who lives in his building who’s not exactly destitute but lonely. So Kermit and his cohorts hop a plane and head up to the North Pole to deliver the letters, meet Santa and his sexy assistant (Uma Thurman) and spread X-mas cheer with a cold hand up their asses.

THE FINISHER:

The Muppets are awesome. The Muppet Show was hilarious. The Muppet Movie is a classic. Every Muppet thing since has been, well, kinda meh. Chalk it up to the untimely loss of creator Jim Henson, the bizarre sounding vocal talent replacements, or the gradual loss of quality that anything suffers over time and exposure. Regardless, the Muppets are awesome. This extremely light and mushy X-mas special reunites the gang with their trademark good humor and flair for sentimental song. All the greats pitch in for a breezy adventure: Kermit, Fozzie Bear, Miss Piggy, Statler and Waldorf, Gonzo, Dr. Bunsen Honeydew and Beaker, the Swedish Chef, and many others. Unfortunately, two of my least favorite Muppets make the cut: the execrable Pepe the King Prawn and the irritating Rizzo the Rat. They suck fuzzy puppet balls. Anyway, the show is a hoot and little kids unfamiliar with these characters should love it while the parents who grew up with Henson’s unforgettable creation will smile more than once.

Watch this here.


OLIVE, THE OTHER REINDEER (1999)

THE ANGLE:

Olive (Drew Barrymore) is a sweet little mutt who lives with her owner Tim (Jay Mohr) in an idyllic paper-cutout town. She gets upset when Tim loses his X-mas spirit upon learning that Santa Claus (Ed Asner) won’t be doing his annual deliveries this year due to an injury on his reindeer sleigh team. Upon mis-hearing Santa quote on the TV news that he’ll need help from “all of the other reindeer” which she heard as “Olive the other reindeer” (hence the title), Olive goes on a quest to save X-mas, Tim’s soul, and Santa’s reindeer health care plan. Along the way, she’s helped by a con artist penguin named Martini (Joe Pantolionionionionioni) and alcoholic reindeer Schnitzel (Michael Stipe) while thwarted left and right by an evil postal carrier (Dan Castellaneta) who hates X-mas. But Olive is able to overcome all obstacles like all special X-mas canines and makes the world a safer place for people who don’t pay Goddamn attention.

THE FINISHER:

Olive the Other Reindeer is a sweet little kids’ book that makes for an equally sweet little kids’ X-mas TV special. But because this one was produced by Matt Groening, producer of The Simpsons, it’s got that extra special wit and will appeal to older folks as well. The vocal talents of Barrymore, Pantolionionionionioni, Asner, and Simpsons regulars Castellaneta and Tress “Agnes Skinner” MacNeille are great and the script is sharp and witty. The animation is also a stand-out, combining the colorful drawings and character designs from the book with subtle 3D effects. This is a nice little special that to the best of my knowledge isn’t aired annually or as widely as the others, but really should. And hearing Drew bark is more than just a little arousing, but, um … I’ve said too much …

Watch this here.


FAMILY TIES: A KEATON CHRISTMAS CAROL (1983)

THE ANGLE:

Everyone’s favorite Republican brat Alex P. Keaton (Michael J. Fox) is feeling a bit of a crumb-bum this X-mas and ruins the Keaton family X-mas Eve tree lighting with his conservative bitterness. But a dream in which he’s visited by the Ghost of X-mas Past (Tina Yothers) shows that Alex once cherished the season. Later, he’s visited the Ghost of X-mas Future (Justine Bateman) who shows him a future in which his family barely scrapes by in depressed economy (nervous throat-clearing) selling dirt and washing his skid-marked undies. The ghosts show him the error of his ways in a typical Dickens sitcom interpretation and Alex is less of a prick for one day out of the year.

THE FINISHER:

Yet another TV version of A Christmas Carol, only this one is kinda good, especially if you were a fan of this seminal 80s sitcom, which I wasn’t but whatever. The episode starts off with dull yuck-yuck humor but grows on you once we see Alex’s X-mas future. A particular standout is Baxter-Birney and her wacky old Mom Keaton and her clothesline shtick that made me laugh twenty-five years after the fact. The show is pretty terrible overall, but this episode does bring back some memories of pre-Back to the Future Fox, pre-Mystic Pizza Bateman, and pre-Burger King manager Yothers.

P.S. Where was Skippy???

Watch this here.

CHRISTMAS VACATION 2: COUSIN EDDIE'S ISLAND ADVENTURE (2003)

Holiday Movie Category: National Lampoon’s Piece of Shit

THE CARD:

Randy Quaid’s bulbous butt, a dense wife, a befuddled Lou Grant, a smoking hot Asian, a dorky kid, a gassy canine, a dull Aussie, Griswold cans, nudge-nudge-wink-wink, and a GODDAMN monkey.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Clark Griswold’s white trash cousin Eddie is back. Eddie (Randy Quaid) loses his job as a guinea pig at a nuclear lab which means it’s curtains for X-mas this year. Fortunately, he gets bitten in the ass by a monkey co-worker and gets a settlement of a fabulous vacation to the South Pacific. Eddie packs up the family including recent bitter divorcee Uncle Nick (Ed Asner) and flies down to the island of Mulaka. There, he gets into a variety of pant-shittingly riotous yuck-ups: he catches a shark while fishing, he maroons himself and the family on a deserted island, he kills a boar with tweezers, he crash-lands a sea plane, and he manages to bore the living hell out of anyone watching this cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, four-flushing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey shit. Hallelujah. Holy shit. Where's the Tylenol?

THE FINISHER:

Marty Moose eggnog mugs. That hot department store clerk. Uncle Lewis’ toupee. The electrocuted cat. Aunt Bethany’s patriotic dinner prayer. High speed sled gags. The Johnsons’ shitter. The yuppies’ comeuppance. Squirrel! Clark’s profane meltdown. And big lovable dumb smelly Cousin Eddie.

These are the things that make the original Christmas Vacation a holiday classic. Quaid’s Eddie stole the show in his three appearances in the Chevy Chase Vacation franchise, but none so memorable as his wickedly stupid turn in Christmas Vacation. So naturally, the National Lampoon folks who haven’t made a watch-able film since 1989 resurrect Eddie and his butt-dumb clan for another go-around at X-mas. Easy money, huh? Not so fast.

I was warned to approach this movie with extremely low expectations, hoping that deep down inside the clever talent of Quaid could save this hound dog, but boy was I wrong. This movie is AWFUL. I didn’t giggle once. Nobody even tried to yank a chuckle out of this lousy, lazily-written script. The visual gags (which the Eddie character is not known for pulling off) are uninspired, clumsy, and just incompetent. Lost in the crappy shuffle of this inept movie are huge talents Asner, Fred Willard, and Eric Idle who all look like they had their funny castrated. The character of Cousin Eddie works better as a second banana to Chase’s goofy Clark and can’t support a leading role, much less a hastily and sluggishly slapped together feature. Eddie was great because his belly-button-picking trailer park shtick was meant as a foil to the “normal” characters. But you are asking way too much if belly-button-picking trailer park shtick is all you got for 90 minutes. And next to this unnecessary and disappointing sequel, belly button lint is looking mighty good.

THE HEBREW HAMMER (2003)

Holiday Movie Category: Jolly Jewsploitation

THE CARD:

Oliver Beene, Debbie Downer, Tom Smykowski, Sonny Spoon, Sweet Sweetback, film financing by the ADL, a shlep-load of poop, Christmas, Mother, Kwanzaa, and circumcision jokes, a Manishevitz Shaft, and that horrible meshugeneh Dick.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Taunted and defamed by cruel gentile classmates as a kid, Mordechai Jefferson Carver, aka The Hebrew Hammer (Adam Goldberg), grew up to become a bad-ass Jewish detective. Rolling in a blue Cadillac styling Star of David fuzzy, Mordechai is enlisted by the Jewish Justice League to help save Hanukkah from the evil clutches of Damien Claus (Andy Dick), Santa's rat-faced son who just assassinated his Dad by impaling him with reindeer antlers. Damien seeks to brainwash Jewish kids into celebrating X-mas through subliminal messages embedded in pirated X-mas movies. (Ahem.) Meanwhile, Mordechai has to deal with gentile gang members, a duplicitous elf, his pain-in-the-ass Mother (Nora Dunn), a poopy cat, and JAP love interest Esther (Judy Greer). But fortunately Kwanzaa hero Mohammed Ali Paula Abdul Rahim (Mario Van Peebles) has got his back and the Hammer lays the Sabbath Smackdown at the North Pole. And as the wackiness ensues and the humor dwindles, I pray for a Jackie Mason cameo that never comes. Aye, gevalt geshreeyeh!

THE FINISHER:

The Hebrew Hammer is like that joke that when you first hear it, you laugh out loud, but after a while, when you think about it, the joke gets less funny with every passing minute. While the idea of a Jewish action hero kicking Santa's evil son's ass and defending the honor of the Jewish people and dealing with his overbearing Mother sounds hilarious - and it is -  the movie hardly has enough ha-ha juice to sustain chuckles for 90 minutes. Although there are some funny jokes sprinkled throughout, the movie loses a ton of steam in the third act when it spends too much time on the romantic subplot. Goldberg is hilarious as the Hammer, but the blaxploitation angle of his character isn't meshed well enough with the Jewish stereotype despite his spirited peformance, and the script is  left to blame. An abundance of  slow-burn silliness, especially with the Damien Claus bit, drags the movie down to the direct-to-video cheapness of previously reviewed X-mas flicks Dear Santa and The Boy Who Saved Christmas. Maybe, just maybe, when the latkes run out, when the dreidels stop spinning, and when Grandpa Shiloh falls asleep, you can toss this DVD in for a few sophomoric yuck-yucks by the menorah light. Feh!

Happy Hanukkah!

BLIZZARD (2003)

Holiday Movie Category: Heartfelt, Tear-jerking, Life-Affirming Nonsense

THE CARD:

A Geordi La Forge X-mas weepy, banana chicken skates, dickhead little brothers, Gandalf Claus, elves with personality disorders, Blacky McGanja the Reindeer Wrangler, the healing power of figure skating, and Blizzard, the Vagina-Having Reindeer.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

10 Steps for a Touching Holiday Story:

1. Watch Princess Bride, take notes.

2. Cute little girl suffers a tragedy just before the holidays and she loses her X-mas spirit. In this case, cute little girl loses her little sledding pal when his family moves away.

3. Mom and Dad call on elder parent/grandparent/extended family member to dispense sagely advice to the kid because they are clueless. In this case, it’s Aunt Millie (Brenda Blethyn) fresh from Africa (?) with a holiday yarn to warm your cockles (if you have any).

4. Aunt tells story about another little girl who suffers similar tragedy during the holidays. In this case, the young girl is a talented ice skater who’s trained by a famous Olympian. Unfortunately, her Dad is laid-off and and the family must move to a new city.

5. Things gets worse for little girl in story but there’s hope. In this case, little girl goes to a new school and is shunned by snobby skating classmates. Fortunately, her talent is recognized by a kindly teacher.

6. Girl/audience gets bored, so Aunt Millie adds a fantasy subplot. In this case, the magical origin of Blizzard (voice of Whoopie Goldberg), one of Santa’s female reindeer born with the powers to fly like the wind, become invisible, and hear children’s prayers.

7. Human/animal character plot complication parallel. In this case, jealous classmate torments the little skater girl who loses her skates and prays to Santa (Christopher Plummer) for new ones. Blizzard is rejected by Santa’s head elf Archimedes (Kevin Pollack) because traditionally female reindeer are not allowed to pull the sleigh, despite her miraculous abilities.

8. Plot/subplot converges towards mystical resolution. Blizzard hears little girl’s pleas, breaks North Pole rules and brings her to Santa’s to give her a new pair of skates. Girl wins skating competition and gains self-confidence. Blizzard brought to trial.

9. Main plot resolution, subplot loose ends wrapped up. Little girl goes to North Pole and defends Blizzard who gets to haul Santa's fat ass every year. All ends well. Real-life girl and Aunt Millie sing around the X-mas tree and an obvious plot twist.

10. Author’s gooey message, profit.

THE FINISHER:

El T will admit it. El T hasn’t been a great person. El T’s lied to family and friends. El T’s stolen from the government, my employer, and various movie studios. El T’s kicked a few pets around. El T refers to El T in the third person. El T probably won’t be going to masked movie geek Heaven. El T has come to terms with his personal vision of Hell: a dozen hot pokers roasting by a sneering demon's throne ready for visits up my hinder, two beds of red-hot nails betwixt El T will be sandwiched while Totie Fields and Nell Carter dance a jig on top to the echoes of my suffering; El T’s agonizing thousand-year disemboweling by Bozo the Clown with a mouth of flesh-honed daggers while he dangles an Italian sub, a morphine smoothy, and boobie mags teasingly above my head. It’s there and waiting. And the infernal woe will all be hosted by Whoopie Goldberg.

Despite that, she gave me the greatest gift this X-mas. She spared me the sight of her fugly mug in a slight, syrupy kid’s film. Overall, Blizzard is a fairly competent and well-executed kiddy holiday movie. Director LeVar Burton is a sentimentalist and sort of dull, but he is a capable TV movie maker. The story and script are predictable and syrupy, but it’s all supported by a fine cast. Plummer pulls off one of the best Ian McKellen-as-Gandalf impressions I’ve ever seen, and his Santa Claus is a highlight, forsaking the usual ho-ho-ho with a somber performance and replacing the red suit with white trim for more traditional garb, much like the original St. Nicholas. Blizzard is simple harmless hum-drum hooey, but it’s sure to entertain little kids and keep parents’ mild attention, so long as El T’s hellish narrator keeps her pukey face out of sight.

(Whoopie – JK! - call me!).

TURBULENCE (1997)

Holiday Movie Category: Snowflakes on a Plane*

THE CARD:

Mary Christmas, Chucky’s Mom, Agent Johnson (no, the other one), migraine-inducing film scoring, Monk’s new shrink, awkward pre-911 references, Ham-Eyed Moody, the wackiest flight since Soul Plane, Sarek Mark II, and one very Bad Fella.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Ryan Weaver, aka The Lonely Hearts Strangler, (Ray Liotta) is a serial killer brought down by a team led by his Captain Ahab, aka Lt. Aldo Hines (Hector Elizondo). The agency extradites Weaver and puts him on an east coast to L.A. flight on X-mas Eve. On board the plane is recently jilted airline attendant Teri Halloran (Lauren Holly) who gets the creeps when she meets the seemingly harmless and charming Weaver. His co-jailbird is bank robber Stubbs (Brian Gleeson) and when he’s able to break free from his escort mid-flight, Weaver takes the opportunity to wipe out half the passengers and all the guards and pilots. He also snuffs out Stubbs and chokes the crap out of Teri’s supervisor Maggie (Catherine Hicks) for good measure. Teri locks herself in the cockpit and tries to fly the plane with the help of air traffic controller Rachel Taper (Rachel Ticotin) and pilot Sam Bowen (Ben Cross). Meanwhile, Weaver gets Hines on the phone and we discover that Hines may or may not have planted evidence on him. Weaver accepts the fact that the plane will crash and informs Hines and ground control that he will crash the plane into a populated area. But he’s still got one more woman to terrorize. When Teri can’t figure out how to land the plane even with all the help, she leaves the cockpit and engages in a tense game of cat-and-mouse-on-plane during a TURBULENT storm for majority of the third act. Fortunately, Teri’s top comes off mid-ordeal which kept my interest until crazy assed Weaver and his eeeeeevil bellowing guided us gently on the tarmac and free to roam around the nuthouse.

THE FINISHER:

Ray Liotta hasn’t come down his sweaty fake coke high since Goodfellas. Maybe Marty switched the baking soda with the real stuff? Regardless, the guy is freakin’ intense. He can’t even tone it down in benign crap like Corrina, Corrina or Operation Dumbo Drop, much less in this overblown, overacted, over-the-top thriller. If you’re a fan of Liotta’s hyperbolic shtick (and I am), you’ll enjoy the fact that his demented juiced-up greatness commands this flick. Although not really a X-mas movie, I wanted to include Turbulence because it’s one of very few X-mas action movies I haven’t seen. Others include Lethal Weapon, Reindeer Games, and recently reviewed Breakaway. So what the hell, huh?

We’ll be right back.

Mid-Finisher Trivia Break:

• Grand L. Bush (Marshal Arquette) was born on X-mas Eve, 1955.
• Rachel Ticotin (Rachel Taper) also appeared in the other airplane action movie of 1997, Con Air.
• Hector Elizondo is Puerto Rican, and as such is not allowed to eat oranges.

What the hell happened to Lauren Holly? Not the greatest actress, but certainly a looker. She’s fair to pretty bad in this movie, and even her glib one-liners seem wasted. Despite a pretty stellar cast of solid character actors, nothing, save for Liotta, is worth remembering. The movie feels like a TNT original movie, not quite a TV movie, not quite a feature film. But it does develop a wacky sense of humor towards the end with ridiculous plot twists. Despite the late sense of self-awareness, the movie does suffer from a ponderous score that made me dizzy. Though it’s nowhere near the level of action goodness of first-rate X-mas action movies such as Die Hard or Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, Turbulence makes for a fun X-mas night of chuckling, mocking, and loving that nutball Ray Liotta.

*(I got nothin’).

THE BOY WHO SAVED CHRISTMAS (1998)

Holiday Movie Category: Jesus Died for THIS?

THE CARD:

Chris Rock the Elf, Santa’s Magic Nose Dust, Santa’s Evil Brother Agnes (?), Graduates of the Stephen Furst Acting Academy, Set Design by My Neighborhood Crazy Homeless Lady Who Thinks I’m Clark Gable, a syphilitic Santa, America’s Biggest Loser Parents, and a serious lack of fast-moving killer X-mas trees.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Jeremy is a nerdy boy who emails Santa his wish list while his dickhead brother Butch mocks him. The boy’s parents are having marital problems and can’t afford gifts this year, so they decide to cancel X-mas prompting Jeremy to send his plea to St. Nick. Meanwhile, the Claus operation is getting upgraded with the help of elfin efficiency expert and miniscule Vulcan, Pointer (black midget with Spock ears). The magic of the internets streamlines Santa’s communication with the children of Earth. But the new technology reveals a security flaw that allows Santa’s evil brother Agnes (?) to invade, take over the North Pole, and zap the big guy to Jeremy’s backyard. Unfortunately, St. Nick’s got amnesia but stupid Jeremy with his stupid aqua Izod shirt and his stupid faith in X-mas helps Santa recover his memories. Santa does a Jon Edward bit and convinces Jeremy’s parents to stay together while Agnes’ (?) henchmen arrive on the scene to whack Santy Claus. After a few wacky fast-motion tit-less Benny Hill-ish segments, Santa settles for a cot in the basement to counsel the family, recuperate his magical powers to bore, and belch and fart. Pointer, Jeremy, and some old perv who owns a baseball card shop join forces to fight Agnes (?) and thwart his plan to recruit the naughty children of the world to do his bidding through the power of Santa’s magic hat. Oh, and apparently all it takes for thousands of years of X-mas tradition to crumble and be turned over to the fey, ham-fisted Agnes (?) is Santa’s signature. And so some other crap happens: Santa’s tied up in a cave and squeals, Jeremy gets merrily molested I guess, and Santa kills Agnes (?) with magic boogers. Although I hate to reveal spoilers, X-mas does get saved, but at what cost? Probably $.99.

THE FINISHER:

Bad X-mas movie! Sigh. Hey, you know what? Screw Santa. This year’s X-mas Wrath might need saving. Bad, bad X-mas movie! Well, my mood might brighten if I get the snarky comments out of the way. Almost identical to last week’s Dear Santa in cheapness and depraved ineptitude, The Boy Who Saved Christmas is about as enjoyable as a candy cane colonoscopy. This cheapo Santa Claus has not only conquered Martians, he’s also stomped, thrashed, and pooped on my sanity. This is not reindeer shit. This is reindeer shit after it’s been consumed by flies and then shit out again only to be broken down by bacteria that shit it out yet again. Actually, it could only strive to be reindeer-shit-eating-fly-shit-bacteria-shit. This movie reminds me of olden days, when broke-ass Tremendo haunted the Goodwill video rack for cinematic treasures while surrounded by taint stains, bologna burps, and moldy feet. Only this movie lacks such luxurious atmosphere. If this passes for entertainment value under the X-mas tree for morons shopping for gifts at a truckstop, then maybe X-mas is better left unsaved. Bah, humbugshit!

P.S. It’s not very good!

TREES 2: ROOT OF ALL EVIL (2004)

Holiday Movie Category: Al Gore's A Christmas Carol

THE CARD:

A bed-wetting Mr. Ranger, Horshack the Billionaire, a swishy lumberjack, a potty-trained Douglas Fir, the Nazi Forest Service, a goofy dork of indeterminate race, the encyclopedia of blind jokes, more needly pricks than a Nickelback concert, and film financing by the artificial X-mas tree industry.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Going green may be deadly this X-mas. Global warming (I guess) is to blame for the mutation of a forest of trees that transform into flesh-eating creatures of the night. Forest Ranger Cody (Kevin McCauley), survivor of the great white pine attack of the first Trees movie, is now deathly afraid of trees despite being the only forest ranger in the town of Hazelville. We know this because we see flashbacks to the first one which looks like a lame Jaws parody (set on Memorial Day, tree hunter named “Squint”, Cody has Chief Brody glasses). The trees are indeed back and in greater numbers with spidery legs and spooky keyhole eyes. The trees chomp a few lumberjacks, then a fat black lady who takes 45 minutes to descend a staircase, and then a Senator in a distasteful Sonny Bono reference. But the greatest insult takes the form of Ron “Horschack” Palillo who plays developer Dougie Styles who has keyhole eyes for Cody's skinny boring wife. Cody calls upon an old pal, killer X-mas tree theorist Max Cooper (Phil Gardiner) to help convince the town the that threat is real. But no one listens, not even a pair of X-Files-ish agents, not even a tree-killer named “Fag”, and definitely not even Cody's slack-jawed son who reads his lines from cue cards. The trees step up their attacks and on X-mas Eve launch an all-out assault on the town for a bloody showdown down Santa Claus Lane.

The result? The sappiest X-mas movie I've seen yet. Yuk yuk yuk ...

THE FINISHER:

Yet another killer X-mas tree movie? And fast-moving killer X-mas trees no less. Call me a traditionalist, but I prefer stumbling, slow-moving killer X-mas tree movies. More tension and much scarier. And in master director of fast-moving killer X-mas tree movies Michael Pleckaitis' Trees 2: Root of All Evil, the characters make the typical mistakes to survive a fast-moving X-mas tree attack. The first rule broken is that no one believes Cody and his scientist pal about the impending threat of fast-moving killer X-mas trees, despite the trail of pine-scented corpses. As a result, there is no planning which should include the stockpiling of chainsaws, wood chippers, and full-bladdered dogs. Secondly, when the fast-moving killer X-mas trees do attack, no one has the common sense to toss a match (at the treetop, of course). Simple, common fast-moving killer X-mas tree tactics. And lastly, the townspeople should have been more attentive to the signs of a fast-moving killer X-mas tree outbreak such as goopy flannel and shrubbery wearing people bibs. They didn’t do themselves any favors either by chopping the trees down with carelessness and disregard. Don't they know that when there is no more room in the forest, the fast-moving killer X-mas trees will walk the Home Depot? But my main nitpick about the movie, like most of my nitpicks about movies, is that there's not enough fast-moving killer X-mas trees. No-well.

Please look for my forthcoming bestseller, The Fast-Moving Killer X-mas Tree Survival Guide, coming this Arbor Day!

HOLIDAY INN (1942)

Holiday Movie Category: Toe-Tapping Holiday Goodness

THE CARD:

Bing the Sap, Fred the Lothario, Mammy the Insulting Turkey-Basting Stereotype, Holiday Inn the Holiday Inn, a cacophony of catchy tunes, some amazing footwork, some amazing racism, and the birth of a ubiquitous X-mas classic.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Jim Hardy (Bing Crosby) and Ted Hanover (Fred Astaire) are a popular song and dance team that's breaking up. Jim wants to retreat to the countryside and retire on a farm with his best girl and co-star Lila (Virgina Dale). But two-faced Ted is also in love with her and the pair plans to screw over Jim and take their new act on the road. Jim takes the bad news with remarkable calm, and heads up to his farm to transform it into an inn that's open only on holidays and features fabulous stage shows. After clearing out the cobwebs, broken doors, and tons of pigshit, Jim opens his dream club on New Years Eve when he woos songstress wannabe Linda (Marjorie Reynolds) and sings “White Christmas” to her beside a fire. On New Year's Eve, Ted gets dumped by Lila and shows up at the inn drunk as a skunk but still manages to out-perform any So You Think You Can Dance doof out the barn door. Blitzed Ted dances with Linda in a routine that knocks the roof off the dump. After seeing the couple perform so well together, Jim prepares himself to be jilted once again. But Jim plays a few tricks to avoid losing Linda, and Ted sticks around the old inn for a few more holidays hoping to win her over which he does. But Jim's not finished yet. In the end, it's a X-mas Eve match of wits between the singer and dancer for the love of a babe and the "White Christmas" cash cow.

THE FINISHER:

Holiday Inn is nothing but pure good-natured corniness, but at least it's well-made and performed corniness. This holiday musical brings together towering entertainment giants Crosby, Astaire, and songwriter Irving Berlin to craft a breezy, fun, and massively entertaining movie that introduced the world to the immortal X-mas classic “White Christmas” and a chain of affordable motels. The film is filled with memorable holiday tunes belted out by Bing. Astaire's magical talent is a wonder to behold, especially the mesmerizing July 4th firecracker dance number. That M-Fer could dance! There's great chemistry between Crosby and Astaire, the script is light and amusing, and the fine supporting cast turns in wonderful jobs all around. But, of course, there's always a dark side to all the fun, this time a literal one. In one segment, Bing puts on blackface for Lincoln's birthday and performs a minstrel show, an ode to Honest Abe who “set the darkie free”. Wow. Also hideously awkward is the Inn's black Mammy (Louise Beavers) who parades around like Aunt Jemima, acts subserviently to Bing, and vitriolically shows off bad grammar. Although dated, embarrassing, and insulting, I hope the sequences are never edited out for the sake of future generations to witness the travesty of the minstrel show, despite the pant-wetting hilarity. Holiday Inn was later remade as White Christmas, a colorful but joyless offering that pales in comparison, and this original should not be absent from any holiday viewing itinerary.

SANTA CLAWS (1996)

Holiday Movie Category: Bad Santa Movies Make Baby Jesus Cry (Except for Bad Santa)

THE CARD:

Days of Our Porn Lives, the biggest X-mas creep since Scut Farkus, the return of the Coopers, soundtrack by Cat Walking on a Casio, boobies, boobies, BOOBIES, and more X-mas joy than a December stay in a Kosovo death camp.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

One X-mas Eve, a kid is sleeping in his living room waiting for Santa. Suddenly, he’s awakened by noises from the rooftop, only it’s not the hoof claps of tiny reindeer. It’s a big fat guy banging his Mom harder than Lou Ferrigno’s front door. And of course the natural reaction to seeing Mom get some (besides a crying fetal position and hysterical laughter) is picking up a gun and filling them full of holes. Years later, the kid grows up to be uber-weirdo Wayne (Grant Kramer), next door neighbor to Raven Quinn (Debbie Rochon), a softcore porn actress and former zoologist (Ha!) whose marriage to a fashion photographer is in trouble. Wayne is obsessed with her, buys the Raven Quinn lovedoll, and creepily coos sweetnothings to it every night. Sensing trouble in her marriage, Wayne takes advantage of the situation and makes a move. But Raven the direct-to-video whore is really a misunderstood sweetheart who just wants to reconcile with her estranged husband. So Wayne starts offing people who may stand in the way of his goal including a sleazy porn producer, a teensy porn queen, a couple douchebags, and some other doofs, leading to an uproarious death scene of mammoth thespian flexing unseen since my Dawson’s Creek audition tape.

THE FINISHER:

Poor John A. Russo. The man helped create one of horror’s iconic films, the 1968 zombie classic Night of the Living Dead, and has since been unable to live up to it in a career spanning multiple video cheapies. Poor, poor John A. Russo. In his “film” Santa Claws, he has sunk to a new low. He rounded up old friends Marilyn Eastman (Night’s Mrs. Cooper) and Karl Hardman (Mr. Cooper), some local strippers, actors picked from a 7-11, and a crappy home video camera to shoot this boring, incomprehensible, adlibbed, bungling, and flat-out disingenuous Santa slasher. The movie really is just an excuse to frame a flimsy horror story around overlong striptease sequences without any self-conscious humor or subtlety. But I do have to say that the frequent appearance of stripper boobies broke up the tedium. It’s not even fun to riff on as you’re constantly scratching your head trying to figure out what each scene (and the scene before it) had anything to do with anything! But the biggest crime this movie has committed, beside a complete waste of 83 minutes, is that there's zero gore. Santa goes around killing folks with a $.99 gardening rake. Oh, the horror! Done in by a Garden Weasal! The only saving grace is seeing Living Dead vets Eastman, Hardman, Russo and Bill Hinzman unearthed for cameo appearances. So steer clear if you see this jingle turd coming to your town.

THREE HOLIDAY TV CLASSICS – PART 1

Remember that CBS Special Presentation promo that used to air before X-mas specials way back when? The conga drums, high horns, and colorful swirling text brought joy to cherubic Kid Tremendo. Not only did it signal the televised arrival of Frosty, Rudolph, and depressing old Charlie Brown, it also meant X-mas was very near. You don’t hear that promo anymore, and the excitement around X-mas specials has been deflated since every yahoo from Clay Aiken to Larry the Cable Guy to the Pope has their own special. But nonetheless, the TV holiday special is a cherished treasure of the yuletide season. Since my X-mas movie supplier is running late, I am going to switch gears a little and focus on some long-neglected holiday TV show episode viewing. Here’s part one of two.

THE CARD:

A pussy-eating space-invading sarcastic Muppet, a fascist rodent bent on world domination who’s not Paris Hilton, and an easy-going non-ass-flashing NYPD captain who’s sorely missed.

PINKY AND THE BRAIN CHRISTMAS SPECIAL

THE ANGLE:

By day, Pinky and the Brain are two white mice who work for Warner Bros. subsidiary ACME Labs. At night, the Brain plots to take over the world with little help from his dim-witted friend Pinky. This X-mas, Brain has created a doll with a built-in device that hypnotizes people into doing his bidding. The plot involves them breaking into Santa’s Workshop at the North Pole, sneaking the doll blueprints to the elves for production, and then having Santa do the dirty work by distributing them to all the boys and girls. As is par the course for Pinky and his dictator-wannabe pal, things go awry and they have to pose as elves, get tortured by toy making machinery, and hijack Santa’s slay. When it looks like the plan is about to be successful, Brain receives a full lethal dose of the power of X-mas sweetness in this funny, fast-paced, and smart X-mas special.

THE FINISHER:

Pinky and the Brain started out as a popular segment on the cartoon show Steven Spielberg’s Animaniacs in the 90s. It was a sharply written, often hilarious, and probably best plotted of the cartoons that supported the main Animaniacs feature. The characters were so popular they spun-off on their own TV show that ran from 1995 to 1998. This X-mas episode typifies the spirit of the characters and the series. Brain is an evil genius Orson Welles. Pinky is hysterically but lovably stupid. And the creators love to poke fun at Bill Clinton. This is a solid, witty, and well-written X-mas special that really should be included with all annual X-mas viewings.

Watch this episode here.

ALF’S SPECIAL CHRISTMAS

THE ANGLE:

Irksome extraterrestrial Alf and his host family the Tanners trek to a cabin in the woods to spend X-mas. Dad Willie spent a memorable X-mas in this particular cabin as a boy when owner Mr. Foley (Cleavon Little) allowed his family to spend the holiday after they got evicted. As usual, Mom and the Tanner kids don’t appreciate the sentimentality and declare this the worst X-mas ever. To make matters worse, Alf gives everyone a headache by opening presents, eating all the food, and generally being a jerk. Alf mistakenly boards Mr. Foley’s truck full of toys that’s headed to a children’s hospital where the old man will be playing Santa. Alf poses as a toy and is befriended by Tiffany, a terminally ill kid. We learn that Mr. Foley is a recent widower, severely depressed, and on the verge of suicide. And if that wasn’t hilarious enough, Alf helps a woman give birth in what I can only describe as the first vagina-Muppet hand birth caught on tape. And so Alf learns the true meaning of X-mas, sheds a tear for the bucket-kicking kid, saves Foley from jumping off a bridge, and probably eats a cat or two which is more action than I’ve seen in a while.

THE FINISHER:

Alf is a dick. He should be renamed ‘Ad’ for Alien Dick. He treats the Tanners like shit after they have risked their lives to harbor him from government dissection and Jonathan Frakes-hosted TV specials. Outside the Tanners’, he’s a much nicer guy, eases up on the Dangerfield shtick, and actually gets funnier. He’s a dick. I can’t say I remember a single episode of this seminal 80s show, but I do remember Alf’s appearances on the Carson show and his brief TV Land talk show. Regardless, this teary-eyed X-mas special is almost unbearably gushy, especially the bit with the dying kid. And Cleavon didn’t look too hot himself. Shot on film and clocking in at close to an hour, this must have been an extra-special episode, hobbled by a maudlin mood, weepy story, and serious lack of chuckles.

Watch this episode here.

BARNEY MILLER: CHRISTMAS STORY

THE ANGLE:

It’s another X-mas Eve in the 12th Precinct and crime doesn’t take a holiday for Capt. Miller (Hal Linden), and detectives Fish (Abe Vigoda), Wojo (Max Gail), Harris (Ron Glass) and wisecracker Yamana (Jack Soo). They have to deal with a serial Santa robber, a mugged hooker, a disgruntled parent, and Fish’s incontinence. Wojo’s giddy X-mas spirit is challenged by the angry Dad who can’t put his kid’s present together, Fish’s Scrooge-like attitude, Harris’ indifference, and Yamana making a date with the hooker. And then Barney has to deal with lonesome Inspector Lugar’s (James Gregory) unsubtle attempts to get himself invited for X-mas dinner. In the end all is well when the Santa robber is nabbed, Yamana gets lucky, the guys exchange gifts, and Fish takes a dump.

THE FINISHER:

They just don’t write sitcoms like Barney Miller anymore. Clever, satirical, witty, and sometimes philosophical, this cop comedy is one of television’s best. This episode is emblematic of the entire series containing subtle humor, endearing characters, and off-beat storylines. Barney Miller never delved into wacky sitcom situations and outlandish absurdity. And this cop show wasn’t focused on just catching the bad guy; it also dealt with how cops related with them and each other. I used to know someone who had worked as a city cop, a sheriff’s deputy, and a DEA agent in a law enforcement career spanning three decades. I once asked him what the most accurate TV cop show was in his opinion. His immediate answer, hands down, was always Barney Miller.

Watch this episode here.

THE MAN WHO CAME TO DINNER (1942)

Holiday Movie Category: Hoity Toity Holiday Farce

THE CARD:

A restrained Jezebel, Ernie the octopus, Glenda the Good Witch, a hammy succubus in mink stoles, bug-eyed servants, street sweet taters, root beer-swigging penguins, Frosty's narrator, a Noel Coward impression, and Christmas Eve with an ax murderer, a mummy, and a royal pain in the ass.

More details here.
THE ANGLE:

Sheridan “Sheri” Whiteside (Monty Woolley) is a snooty radio commentator and raconteur who's visiting the home of the Stanleys, a wealthy factory-owning family living in small town Ohio. Along side is his trusty assistant Maggie (Bette Davis) who sees to his every demanding need. Walking up the steps to the Stanley mansion, Sheri slips on the ice and lands hard on his butt. He's laid up in a wheelchair, threatens the Stanleys with a lawsuit, and takes over the household. Diagnosed with a strained hip, he is stuck until well after X-mas, which is only three weeks away. He drives everyone nuts from the butler to his nurse to the delivery men who haul his sacks of get-well letters, X-mas presents, and exotic animals over to the Stanleys. One day, young reporter Bert (Richard Travis) comes by to interview Sheri and Maggie becomes instantly smitten with the journalist and wannabe playwright. Sheri is instantly threatened by the budding romance and calls on his gold-digging actress friend Lorraine (Ann Sheridan) to come to the Stanleys to spend X-mas and seduce Bert away from Maggie. The plan backfires when Maggie uncovers the plot, threatens to quit, and is irrevocably hurt by Sheri's bastard-like behavior. He learns the error of his ways and recruits his wacky comedian pal Banjo (Jimmy Durante) to help him get rid of Lorraine who's also enamored by this guy named “Bert”. Meanwhile Sheri needs to prepare for his big X-mas Eve radio broadcast, the Stanleys are fed up with his shit, one of the family members is harboring a terrible secret, and penguins are wreaking havoc in what might be the kookiest X-mas ever. Wait, what happened to dinner?

THE FINISHER:

While watching the classic stage-to-screen adaptation of The Man Who Came to Dinner, I had a similar reaction to it as yesterday's movie It Happened on 5th Avenue. The movie is long, unfocused, dated, barely involves X-mas, and fails to generate a comedic rhythm. Although there are some light and entertaining moments, it falls flat once the claustrophobic feeling of a one-set comedy sets in. It probably worked better on the stage or in a movie house in the late 40s, but watching it on my TV at home (ginormous as it is) I found myself getting a little bored and hoping it would choose a pace and stick with it. On the plus side, Woolley is hilarious as Sheri Whiteside, an irritating, haughty, mean-mouthed monster who learns the errors of his ways but never really changes. Davis looks beaming even though she's given little to do in her romantic subplot, and the supporting cast is good including a crazed Durante as a skirt-chasing wisenheimer. The Man Who Came to Dinner is funny at times but the references and comic moments are products of its time. As much as I despise unnecessary remakes, this movie might make for a good update in a contemporary premise and setting if the farcical structure and the good-natured message of the original is retained. But Sweet Christ, don't call Jim Carrey!

IT HAPPENED ON 5TH AVENUE (1947)

Holiday Movie Category: Another Occurrence on a New York Geographical Location

THE CARD:

An ingenious moocher, Mr. B the Bum, Gale Storm the Windy Cyclone, a stuffed shirt billionaire turned Bullwinkle narrator, pissed-off G.I.s, a svelte Skipper, and a forgotten time when homelessness was hilarious.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

Aloysius T. McKeever (Victor Moore) is a lovable tubby homeless guy who breaks into the New York mansion of industrialist Michael O'Connor (Charles Ruggles) every winter while the billionaire is away. This year, he’s got fellow evicted bum Jim (Don DeFore, actor and Disneyland BBQ pioneer) who brings long his fellow displaced G.I. buddies Whitey (Alan Hale Jr.) and Hank (Edward Ryan) and their families to hole up in the house for the winter. O’Connor’s runaway daughter Trudy (Gale Storm) shows up, falls for Jim, and poses as a homeless gal to be near him and pursue her singing career. Eventually, O’Connor runs into Trudy on the street and she fills him in on the shenanigans. In order to appease his estranged daughter and talk her into returning to school, he poses as a homeless man and acquaints himself to the squatters who’ve ransacked his home. Sure, OK. O’Connor doesn’t approve of Jim so he tries to break up the romance. McKeever treats O’Connor like shit and makes him sweep up and wash dishes. O’Connor’s ex-wife (Ann Harding) appears to join in the fun and may reconsider reconciliation. And then Jim and his buddies bid for some land to start their own business while unbeknownst to them O’Connor is trying to obtain the same real estate for a mega-seaport. And so wackiness ensues in the loser-packed mansion seeped in lies and deceit as the clock ticks towards X-mas.

THE FINISHER:

It Happened on 5th Avenue is another well-meaning but tepid comedy, with simple gags and mistaken identity supplying the chuckles. Since there’s only about ten minutes of X-mas in the movie, I’m skeptical of its classification as a X-mas movie, let alone its inclusion in the recent box set release Warner Brothers Holiday Classic Collection. Also, it’s never made clear what the “it” is from the movie’s title. I mean, a lot of “its” happen, from the falsehoods to the insider trading to the deception to the first degree breaking and entering. Whatever “it” is, it sure takes a goddamn long time to get there. Clocking in at close to two hours, the movie drags tediously with lukewarm jokes, swooning songs, and predictable story turns that make me think “it” is boredom.

DEAR SANTA (1998)

Holiday Movie Category: Jeer Santa

THE CARD:

An 80s kid in the 90s with 50s parents, an elf played by Reese Witherspoon's retarded cousin, and groundbreaking characters: a lying used car salesman, a scumbag boss, a shitty mechanic, a stupid elf, and a mentally challenged low-budget film director.

More details here.

THE ANGLE:

A used car salesman promises his dorky kid a white X-mas up in the mountains. And the little chump actually buys it like paint sealant. The plans are ruined when the Dad's disgusting boss forces him to work 12-hour days until X-mas Eve to unload a bunch of suspiciously obtained cars. Dad disappoints kid and hostile Mom with his web of lies and they leave him. One night, Dad is visited by a magical elf with electricity shooting out her palms who nearly electrocutes the dumbass. Over the next few days, the elf torments the guy into changing his lying ways, but doofus Dad the slobbering idiot continues to lie and cheat people into buying crappy cars. One morning he wakes up with a full white beard and pillow-stuffed stomach and instead of going to the hospital, he uses this transformation to make a final push for sales. Meanwhile, the kid inexplicably has inherited the elf's electrical powers and he goes around healing people for money to buy his Mom flowers in his imbecilic Dad's name. Um, what? Mom’s clam quivers at the good deed, but the ruse backfires when she sees moron Dad on TV hawking cars as Santa. The elf reappears and shocks him again, but not nearly enough to satisfy my wish for a painful death. She teleports his stupid ass to the North Pole where he meets a talking owl who embodies all the craftsmanship of the $.99 Store clearance bin. The owl directs him to the abandoned Santa’s Village in San Bernardino, um I mean Santa’s “castle” where he meets a couple bang-able elves. The Kringle-tard learns he is one of many “Secret Santas” who help the big guy every year and Dad's mission is, well, I don’t really know, but probably to continue being a douche and kidnap his kid and deliver sticks and rocks to kids in Kenya. What I do know is that Santa’s empire is run by seven girls in K-mart elf costumes producing invisible toys and using a sleigh pulled by invisible reindeer (brilliant cost-cutting!). I could go on, but my eyes and ears are gushing blood at the complete nonsense of a cheapo Santa Clause rip-off that could not only make Baby Jesus cry, but also give him epileptic seizures, brain hemorrhaging and red and green diarrhea.

THE FINISHER:

Dear Santa,

First, I want to apologize for not writing to you these many years past. Second, thanks so much for last year's gold-plated mask and diamond-studded championship belt. I was a big hit at the Mexican Wrestler Movie Blogger X-mas Ball. Third, I want to call to your attention a disturbing trend that has been occurring for hundreds of years. Good sir, your name is being raped. Yes, violated, desecrated, and tapped with pelvic-thrusting impunity up your holly jolly poop-hole. Various versions of this inhuman violation have ranged from shopping mall mockeries, repetitive jingle-tunes, kid-killing sweatshop toys, Walmart tramplings, and Tim Allen. But none measure a light year near the butt-breach of Fred Olen Ray’s Dear Santa. You’ve got a heinous creature in the form of a dim-witted Dad who somehow deserves to be Santa and win back his kid. You’ve got a menopausal Mom who destroys her family if she doesn’t get the nice X-mas vacation. You’ve got hateful precocious children, failed stand-up comedians, wacky sound effects, plotting by mental patient, community theater rejects, and all the intense production design of a matchbook nativity scene. Hell, I could rewrite the 12 Days of X-mas at this point. So the reason I’m writing is to ask to let me help you. Let me be your Secret Santa, dear St. Nick. Arm me with your shiniest sniper rifle, your brightest rocket launcher, and your quickest assault chopper and I promise I will rid the world of shitty shitty shitty Santa movies. I’ll even supply a big fat red bow for the burning heaps of vengeance. I hope you seriously consider my wish, Santa. Have a Merry Christmas, because I doubt the makers of Dear Santa will.

Your Cinematic Assassin,
EL TREMENDO