Today's Feature: The Case For Christmas
Santa Claus must hire a lawyer when a man sues him for emotional distress.
Our exciting narrative begins with Santa Claus, hard at work pumping out some sort of anonymous handheld video game console en masse at his spacious North Pole factory. He's been having some problems with his "Frivolimeter", which is a device that injects joy into every toy manufactured at his magical sweat shop. Injecting joy into the toys is apparently a very important aspect of the whole process, because without that sweet, sweet joy, no child would ever even want to touch any of their toys, at least according to the big man himself, who may or may not be suffering from some form of dementia at this point, judging by the bewildered expression that seems permanently affixed to his kindly, bearded face.
I'm not even sure if this "Frivolimeter" is even a real thing, because it looks like a miniature septic tank with a bunch of cheap plastic gift bows glued to its surface, and all it ever does is shudder. I believe some of the elves just slapped it together one day during their mandatory lunch break to give Santa something to tinker with just to stay out of their hair. But he thinks its a pretty big deal, and it keeps him occupied, so whatever works, I guess. So while Santa's banging on his goofy little doodad, some random dude just shows up outside and presents the avatar of Christmas with a summons. That's right, kids: Santa Claus has just been served.
But who would have the sheer, unmitigated gall to dare sue Santa Claus? Some greedy old asshole named Braxton who made his fortune in sporting goods, that's who. He hates Santa Claus because he never gave the little prick any presents when he was a child, and so he's decided to sue old St. Nick for "emotional distress" for a never-disclosed sum of money. But Braxton doesn't really give a damn about any emotional distress, because he really just hates Santa Claus and wants to replace the jolly old elf with a new Christmas icon of his own design: a sexy smurf in a tight snowsuit named Santana Snow, who lives on a tropical island and delivers sporting goods to all good girls and boys each Christmas. He already has a prototype doll made up that he just loves to show anybody he can corner for thirty seconds at his office, and he clutches it with such a wanton look in his eyes that I couldn't help but be more than a little creeped out every time he'd pull it out of his briefcase.
Now I'm not a lawyer, but as a layman, I find this whole summons thing just ridiculous. How the hell could the state of New York issue a summons for Santa Claus? He lives at the North Pole, which is technically located in the center of the Arctic Ocean, and therefore not subject to the laws of the state of New York, or the United States of America, for that matter, and I don't believe Santa's magical kingdom has any extradition treaties with the U.S., so they certainly couldn't compel the man to appear in a court of law.
But because Santa Claus is an honorable demigod, he chooses to obey the summons and appear in court on the eve of the Christmas holiday. He hires Dean Cain, playing himself (long story) to defend him in court after his charming daughter Billy charms him by rambling about fairies for three hours in the courthouse snack room. Now Dean Cain's got problems of his own, what with his young daughter's all-encompassing hobby of collecting vintage oven mitts, as well as his very close friend Lauren's obsession with his late father's old Ford Galaxy, a broken-down old clunker that hasn't been on the road in nearly twenty years, but she's determined to get it up and running by Christmas, because she's not-so-secretly in love with Dean Cain and doesn't know any other way to express her feelings aside from auto repair, which isn't terribly romantic.
Dean Cain's been too busy to realize this adoring young woman has been practically begging him for a little sensual attention, because he's still hung up on his late wife, who apparently died unexpectedly of whooping cough or something a few years prior to the events of the film, and the whole experience of watching his wife die really fucked him up, so the big lug remains blind to her obvious romantic advances. Why is there always such a tragic backstory for characters like this in these movies? They always have a dead spouse and a young and adorable child that only wants their parent to move on and find happiness with somebody else, because they're tired of seeing their mommy or daddy look so sad all of the time. I understand that these movies are basically romances at heart, and they tend to involve children because Christmas is really big with the kiddies, but is this really the only method so many hack writers can think of to prominently involve children in their made-for-television, holiday-themed family movies? I mean it's only been a stale plot contrivance since the days of Auguste and Louis Lumière, for pity's sake.
The rest of this movie basically writes itself, doesn't it? You haven't seen the damned movie, and I guarantee you already know how it ends. I'm willing to bet that, based on what I've already told you, if you thought about it for a few moments, you could even figure out how Santa Claus and his good pal Dean Cain inevitably win their case against Braxton and his pitbull of a lawyer, a very alluring woman with kind of an Ellen Barkin thing going on, which I find incredibly appealing, but that's neither here nor there.
Have you thought about it? I'll give you a hint: it has something to do with that damned Santana Snow doll. Have you figured it out yet? Near the film's climax, on Christmas Eve, Dean Cain's daughter Billy finds herself alone in the courthouse snack room trying to buy some candy from a vending machine with a wrinkled dollar bill. Braxton happens upon the young lady and offers to exchange her old bill for a crisp new bill from his wallet. He notices that she's dressed like a fairy and asks her if she would like to see something "really cool". At this point, alarm bells should be going off in Billy's head, and she should really be screaming for help, because this Braxton guy just has that "Uncle Touchy" look to him, but instead she just nods her head and smiles. So this douchebag shows her his Santana Snow prototype doll, and even tells her the doll's whole story, including the part where he hopes his creation will supplant Santa Claus as the true face of Christmas in the public eye, which is really a lot of seemingly unnecessary information to be dropping on a random little girl, but the guy just can't help but spill all the beans to this strange child he just met, because he's probably suffering from some sort of disorder.
Naturally, Billy tells her daddy all about this bizarre encounter in the courtroom, and so he calls his daughter to the witness stand where she tells the judge and jury all about this prick's plans to burn Santa's empire to the ground with his corporate creation. Braxton, having been unmasked as a lying scumbag before the world, immediately calls to dismiss his case in an effort to save face with his shareholders, and that's that. Santa won! He also had time to finish repairing Dean Cain's Ford Galaxy before returning to the North Pole, which Lauren presents to him that evening, and he's finally able to express his long-simmering adoration for the tomboy who stole his heart and cleaned his carburetor, if you know what I mean. And little Billy finally got those fairy wings she wanted under the Christmas tree, and being blessed by elfin blood or something equally arcane, she's granted the gift of flight. That's how the movie ends, with Dean Cain and his new girlfriend kissing under some mistletoe, ignoring the cries of his startled daughter as she hovers over the fireplace, cursed fairy wings flapping merrily on her back.
That's
Buza also played Santa Claus in a recent anthology release called A Christmas Horror Story, eventually doing battle with his eternal nemesis, the nefarious Krampus, at the film's climax. It's not exactly what anybody would call a "good" movie, but it's oddly entertaining, and the big Santa/Krampus prizefight is definitely worth watching, at the very least. It's on Netflix. You should watch it. But what about The Case For Christmas? I dunno. If you're extremely bored and find it on television, sure, watch it. Use it as background noise while wrapping presents or shaving your crotch. That's a fine recommendation, right there. But you should probably just watch A Christmas Horror Story, anyway. Just for fun.
VERDICT: NICE
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