The San Francisco Examiner calls it "the year's funniest film."
The New York Times says it's "achingly funny!"
Ebert and Roper give it two thumbs up.
The Washingon Post says it's brilliant.
Two wire services call it a must-see yuletide flick for the rest of us.
"Bad Santa" is good stuff.
No it isn't.
With all apologies to these fine publications, "Bad Santa" is bad. Very bad.
The Examiner might find it funny to have a stewed Santa, cursing and belching in front of little kids, but I don't.
The New York Times might find a dark comedy that includes a murder uplifting, but I don't.
I mean, where have we come as a society, where the elitists in our society can love this junk? And then recommend this junk?
I do know this: for a movie that was trumpeted by those in the know as the yuletide flick to beat, few beat a path to see it.
The Miramax flick took in little more than $12 million, but you'd think with that kind of fawning press, this would be another Santa "Star Wars," instead well behind the "Cat in the Hat," "The Haunted Mansion," "Elf," and a couple of others.
Clearly the out crowd didn't agree with the in crowd. Why? Because this movie was horrible! That's why.
I know I sound like a prude, but I find nothing funny about a fornicating, cursing, booze-guzzling Santa whose idea of helping a kid is taking advantage of that kid, then coming back and realizing he was a schmuck with that kid.
If that's what you call a Christmas transformation, transform me out of here!
I'll admit, I'm more "Miracle on 34th Street," than "Nightmare on 42nd Street."
I like my Santa sober.
I like my Santa kind.
I like my Santa decent.
It's one of the few things good we can hang onto. Leave it to Hollywood to mock it and scores of jaded and twisted reviewers to hype it.
I was dumb enough to think those reviewers were onto something. I was wrong. They're apparently just "on" something.
And I hope Santa skips all their houses.
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