Respect Authority

As if we aren’t constantly pummeled by Hollywood with reasons to be terrified of the future as it is (the Terminator, Alien, and Matrix trilogies, to name a few — and is it really any coincidence that in all three series, the individual films get increasingly terrible as the future progresses? Improving situations are just not part of the fabric of the future, as opposed to robot holocausts, alien invasions, and liquid food), this weekend the movie-making money machine was up to it yet again with another blow to American optimism in these uncertain times. Yes, that’s right, my friends — Four Christmases debuted in the number one slot at the box office.

Despite the fact that, in recent years, Christmas movies are almost by definition devoid of the potential for enjoyment, studios continue to produce them, and that’s only because they know audiences will continue to gobble them up like the roast beast at the Whoville Christmastime feast. Culturally, we are Christmas’ slave, and there is no escape now that we’ve let ourselves be stuffed into its stocking.

Dan Fellman, head of distribution for Warner Bros., describes the oppressive holiday movie atmosphere a little differently, you know, as if he wasn’t a blood-sucking Hollywood drone nourished solely by greed. He chalks up Four Christmases entirely undeserved profits by saying, “It was the perfect time. It’s the only movie out there that deals with Christmas.” And there it is, in carefully veiled terms — “we know you fools are powerless against the artificial charms of old Mr. Kringle, so why don’t you just come over here and sit on Santy’s lap.”

Reportedly, the only potential competition comes December 12 with the John Leguizamo tale Nothing Like the Holidays. Oh yeah, because nothing fills me with holiday cheer like staring at John Leguizamo’s face for two hours straight. The desire to drink massive quantities of liquored-up egg nog, maybe, but that’s where it stops. Stomaching his appearance as Chi-Chi Rodriguez in To Wong Foo Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar was enough of a Christmas miracle for the rest of my fucking life so feel free to take the next few holiday seasons off, John. Like, seriously… don’t do any Christmas movies.

The same sentiments apply to Vince Vaughn as well, as he slowly suffers a similar fate to that of his comedy comrades, Will Ferrell and Steve Carell, as all three actors continue to plod through canned, forced roles that are mere shades of the performances that won them their initial mainstream successes. Vince Vaughn may look like a bloated alcoholic uncle, but that’s where his relation to the holidays should end.

First the comedic vacuum that is Fred Claus and now this? Maybe it’s time to put the yule log down, Vince. They say that the third time is the charm, but after two successive years of holiday themed trainwrecks, I’m about ready to let everybody’s favorite fast-talking ex-frat boy sit the next play out. It’d be the best thing I didn’t see underneath the tree.

Last Week’s Highlights

• A Jolt? — “I just don’t see how creating 2.5 million jobs is going to fix the real problem. Obama is calling for ‘a jolt’ to the economy, but how many times can we defibrillate a failing heart? Even a drastic transplant would only forestall the inevitable death of our current financial system.”
• Enjoy The Show — “Why bother with yet another serving of mediocre chicken strips (I’m being facetious here, of course, all chicken strips are inherently fucking incredible) when you can try a hearty dose of well-aged paint chips? It was the best case of lead poisoning a dreary November afternoon could buy.”
• In Defense of Black Friday — “It’s not like my goal is to ‘Buy myself things on the cheap’ or ‘Spend as little money as possible on other people’s Christmas presents,’ because psh, that would be CALLOUS. What I’m really hoping to do by upper-cutting my way through the soccer moms is stimulate the economy. Obviously.”

[CNN]