I’ll just write here what I wrote to the other Bullz-Eye editors when I first read that Heath Ledger had been found dead of a presumed (but not confirmed) drug overdose:
* My first thought was a general, all-purpose “omigod.”
* My second thought was, “What an idiot,” which is invariably what I think when I hear about anyone dying from a drug overdose.
* My third thought was a more specific “omigod,” namely, “Omigod, his poor little daughter…”
And, lastly, I thought, “Somewhere at Warner Brothers, some suit has already said, ‘Goddamn motherfucking Heath Ledger! Oh, wait: this’ll be probably actually be good for box office. Never mind!”
What’s that strange taste in my mouth? By God, I think it’s the taste of a clean palate!
After two days of less than stellar Christmas flicks (and, boy, is that an understatement), I’ve stumbled upon a new film which – dare I say it? – has the potential to become a cult classic…and, for once, it’s not because it’s so awful that its sheer badness has earned it kitsch value, a la “Santa Claus Conquers the Martians.”
“Stalking Santa” is a mockumentary about Dr. Lloyd Darrow (Simon Taylor), a man who’s on an obsessive quest to confirm or deny the existence of Santa Claus, even if it involves risking a Christmas morning devoid of presents. In a twist which will amuse fans of the classic ’70s series, “In Search Of,” the narration is done by the inestimable William Shatner, who provides details about Darrow’s investigations, as well as other self-proclaimed “Santologists,” with absolutely no hint that it’s all completely fictional. Shatner’s deadly-serious delivery turns the most ridiculous claims into hilarity, such as his discussion of a wax cylinder that captured a voice during a seance which, when played backwards, reveals the words, “Ho, ho, ho, merry Christmas,” or the shot of an ancient Egyptian hieroglyphic which bears a striking resemblance to Kris Kringle himself. (Politically correct or not, I laughed out loud when they showed artwork of a chubby Asian fellow sitting in a lotus position and gave it the identifier of “Buddah Craus.”)
Lloyd reportedly has many supporters in his quest, but the truth is, it’s really just him and his college intern, Clarence (Daryn Tufts), who, uh, probably isn’t getting actual college credit for his work. Lloyd’s the president and CEO of an organization known as Tangible Evidence, Real Discoveries…and don’t think he doesn’t get shit for that acronym. He’s a family man, and his kids are a little uncertain about his quest, which you’d expect, since it might mean they don’t get any presents. In particular, his son is sick of his schoolmates’ tauntings, but his lovely and pregnant wife Kylie (Sierra Squires) is behind him, even though there’s no humor in her laugh when she comments that “Santology” isn’t exactly something you get paid for. (The line is followed by a shot of her working in a fast food restaurant as the family breadwinner.)
Yes, it’s easy to dismiss the entire concept of the film with a wave of the hand and a quick uttering of “there IS no Santa Claus, the end,” but only a Scrooge would do that. (Right, David?) But, seriously, this is a really funny concept that’s taken to hilarious heights and looks professional enough that, at least in appearance, it could fit onto TLC or The Discovery Channel without a second thought, especially the faux archival footage which suggests a government conspiracy to keep the existence of Santa under wraps so as not to disturb the world economy. Yeah, it descends too far into total ridiculousness on occasion (the idea that the Sphinx originally had antlers like a reindeer fell completely flat), but what keeps it working is the fact that virtually everyone believes Lloyd’s a complete nutjob…because, of course, everyone knows there’s no Santa Claus…right?
Right?
RIGHT?!?!?
(P.S. Santa, I totally know you’re real, so I’m sure you’ve chalked this up to creative license and have in no way removed that copy of the 5-disc “Blade Runner” set from your sleigh.)
And here I thought “Jingle All the Way” would be the biggest waste of time I’d experience this Christmas season.
I guess I was being naive to think that I might find myself as a member of the 7% approval rating for “Deck the Halls” on RottenTomatoes.com, but despite the odds, I just feel like you pretty much have to maintain a certain amount of optimism when you’re presented with a film starring Matthew Broderick and Danny DeVito.
My bad.
Steve Finch (Broderick) is, at least in his mind, the Pope of Christmastown…or, that is, the people in his little burg tend to think of him as having a significant amount of holiday spirit, given that he’s in charge of organizing the annual winter carnival. When Steve and his wife, Kelly (Kristen Davis), get new neighbors at the beginning of December, they’re cautiously optimistic about Buddy and Tia Hall (DeVito and Kristen Chenoweth), but when Buddy gets a wild hair up his ass to make his house visible from space by adding as many Christmas lights as possible, he quickly incurs Buddy’s wrath. Before long, things devolve into a full-fledged war between Steve and Buddy about just about everything you can imagine.
Why, pray tell, does Hollywood insist on making these broad slapstick holidays films starring big names where the characters’ actions in no way resemble those of real people?
I really can’t even be bothered to tell you a lot about the film, except that it’s dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb. I mean, if we ever do an update of “Holiday Movies Bad Enough To Make You Hate Christmas,” rest assured that this’ll be making my list. Both DeVito and Broderick play characters who are in no way sympathetic, which means that you don’t give a damn who’s going to eventually turn out victorious, especially since you already know that the ending will be so sappy and schmaltzy that it won’t matter, anyway.
7%…? Sounds a little optimistic to me.
There’s no trailer available for the flick on YouTube, but try watching this clip of the cast being interviewed by National Lampoon, instead. It’s not knee-slapping hilarious, but it’s still funnier than the film itself.
I can’t really say that I miss Arnold Schwarzenegger, given that his position as Governor of California means that he’s on the news every other freaking day, but, y’know, it has been four years since the guy last starred in a movie, and, frankly, the world of action flicks is sorely lacking as a result. Stallone’s been forced to return to his hoary old “Rocky” and “Rambo” franchises to score anything approximating a hit, and the same goes for Bruce Willis and “Die Hard.” Seagal and Van Damme are both trapped in the career Phantom Zone known as the Straight to Video Market, and, really, is there any proper action hero still getting regular theatrical releases? I mean, I like Jason Statham as much as the next guy, but he’s still not on the same tier, y’know?
Watching “Jingle All the Way,” I missed Ahnuld the Action Hero even more than I already did. Believe it or not, I’d never seen it before, which means that I can’t personally tell you any of the difference between the theatrical release and the new extended version; I will tell you, however, that having watched the latter rather than the former, my suspicion is that anything that made it feel particularly long to me probably was in the theatrical version, too.
Arnold plays Howard Langston, one of those stock movie businessmen who loves his family but struggles to make time for them. We see him try and fail to make it to his son Jamie’s karate exhibition, and when he realizes later that evening that he’s forgotten to buy his son the TurboMan action figure he’s been clamoring for, he’s aware that there’s no choice: he has to get that figure. Unfortunately, TurboMan is to this film what a Tickle Me Elmo was to the real world a few years back, i.e. it’s impossible to find, and Howard ends up on a Christmas Eve quest to hunt one down. On a similar quest is an overworked postman Myron Larabee, played by Sinbad, who’s had almost no time off because of the Christmas rush and just hadn’t had a chance to get the figure for his son; Howard and Myron end up crossing paths on a regular basis throughout the film, battling to secure that elusive TurboMan figure…and that’s where the film fell apart for me.
I understand that Howard’s trying to redeem himself with his son, but he knows he’s the one at fault in this situation, whereas Myron is a victim of circumstance, yet it never occurs to Howard to be the better man and let this guy make his son happy. Instead, Howard’s steadfastly determined to win his son’s love through material possessions. If that’s not the antithesis to the moral of Christmas, I don’t know what is. Even his son knows this: when Howard finally gets Jamie the elusive figure, Jamie gives it to Myron, even as Howard is still sputtering, “What are you doing…?”
“Jingle All the Way” is mostly about ridiculous slapstick, but there’s at least one great comedic turn courtesy of the late, great Phil Hartman, who never met a role he couldn’t make into one of the best things in that film. There are also some enjoyable supporting performances, with Robert Conrad (“The Wild Wild West”) as a cop, Martin Mull as a DJ, Jim Belushi as a sheister of a Santa, Phil Morris and Amy Pietz as parade announcers, Chris Parnell as a toy store clerk, Curtis Armstrong as a live-action (and chain-smoking) version of TurboMan’s compatriot, Booster, and an uncredited Yeardley Smith as a woman who Howard thinks has a TurboMan doll. Oh, right, and there’s a crazed reindeer, too. Rita Wilson is little more than a cliche as Howard’s long-suffering wife, and Jake Lloyd…well, let’s just say that anyone who saw this flick couldn’t have been surprised by the lad’s ineffective turn as Anakin Skywalker a few years later.
Yeah, y’know, I guess I do miss Arnold Schwarzenegger…but if he’s planning to return to Hollywood and make another crappy comedy like this one, I’d rather just stick to watching “Commando” again. If you disagree with me…well, just watch this so-called “highlight reel” from the film and see if it doesn’t change your mind.
If you can trust the box art for this particular DVD, then we’ve finally been gifted with the long-awaited release of a cherished holiday classic; as for me, I wasn’t familiar with the film…or if I once was, my memories of it didn’t stick with me for the long haul…but having now watched it, I can say that there’s probably a fair amount of truth in that advertising.
Addie (Lisa Lucas) is 10 years old and really, really, really wants a Christmas tree; unfortunately, her dad, James (Jason Robards), refuses to have one in his house. No, he’s not being a jerk…well, not intentionally, anyway. He’s still mourning the death of his wife, who died within weeks of Addie’s birth, and he readily associates the holidays with how much his wife loved that time of the year; unfortunately, he also associates his daughter with his wife, and it continues to haunt him that, once upon a time, he wished that she’d died instead of her mother. As such, the Christmas season is generally a pretty low-key affair around their house…to say the least. But when Addie wins a Christmas tree in a contest at school – through a method her father taught her, no less – and James still throws a fit over having a tree in his house, resulting in Addie running off in tears, one is forced to wonder if father and daughter will ever be able to reconcile.
Say, this sure sounds like a merry Christmas movie, doesn’t it? Well, don’t worry: it wouldn’t be a holiday classic if things didn’t eventually turn out all right…but, then, you probably already figured that.
Robards’ performance is appropriately gruff when he’s dealing with Addie while being just sad enough for us to realize that, yeah, that’s a major emotional rollercoaster the guy’s on, and who’s to say we wouldn’t react similarly in that situation? Mildred Natwick plays Addie’s grandmother (and James’s mom) in a manner that will no doubt strike a chord in many of us, the way she walks that tightrope between wanting to make her granddaughter happy without damaging the relationship with her own child. Lisa Lucas is…well, she’s a kid. She’s an average 10-year-old little girl. She was never destined to win an Emmy for her work, but she does well enough.
“The House Without A Christmas Tree” was made in 1972, and it shows, but that’s a good thing, actually; the reason it shows is that it was filmed on video tape, and the result is that it tends to feel less like a movie and more like a play. There really aren’t many different locales involved – the family’s house, the school, a store, and another nearby family’s house – and the brief outdoor shots could easily be left out if anyone wanted to make this into a stage play. You may also recall that 1972 was the year “The Waltons” premiered, so don’t be surprised when you tune in to find that A) the story takes place in the 1940s, B) the goings-on are, by and large, pretty mundane by today’s standards, and C) there’s as much heartbreak as there is happiness.
But, like I said, things turn out all right in the end, and that’s what counts.
