Schlock-Mas: Day Six

Today's Feature: Fir Crazy

A Christmas tree seller's new beau helps her save her family's business from a "Scrooge".

Stop me if you've hear this one: Elise MacReynolds hates Christmas. But wait! Before you start screaming incoherently and gnashing your teeth, let me tell you why Elise MacReynolds hates Christmas. She grew up on a Christmas tree farm in upstate New York! That's different, right? She hated all those years growing up around thousands of pine trees, selling her family's festive wares on the sidewalks of New York City in front of a big department store every December, and as soon as she grew up she couldn't blow that particular ice pop stand quickly enough, becoming a corporate lackey at some big-time athletic shoe conglomerate.

Speaking as a guy who lives across the street from a Christmas tree farm, it's really only a "Christmas tree" farm for two months out of the year. The other ten months, it's just a regular old tree farm. Nobody feels particularly festive when they're watering a bunch of pine saplings in the stagnant August heat, that I can tell you.

But her boss eventually fires her because she refuses to wear athletic shoes to work (seriously, one of the reasons he gives for terminating her position is her stubborn loyalty to "impractical" leather pumps), and her skeevy coworker boyfriend dumps her on the same day because he was jockeying for her job and is just a complete piece of shit, and what did Elise ever see in this guy to begin with? So on the cusp of the Christmas season and with no prospects, Elise visits her kindly parents up at the Christmas tree farm and asks for her old job back. Back in the saddle again, she hooks up the old family trailer, recruits her loyal cousin Shane and sets up shop in front of their favorite department store in Manhattan: Brookline, I think. It might be Brook Line. Or Brock Line. It doesn't really matter.

But get this: the new owner of Brook... whatever doesn't like Christmas, or Christmas trees, or smiling faces, or any of that good stuff, and he makes it his purpose this holiday season to find some grounds to revoke the MacReynolds family's permit to sell their sexy trees on the sidewalk in front of his store, I suppose because the movie needed a clear villain. But lovely Elise doesn't let old bald-headed Gary Dixon's grumpy mug dampen her Christmas spirit, which she doesn't have, so she just keeps plugging along, day after day, peddling Christmas trees to the citizens of New York City with loyal Shane also doing that same thing, because he's also in the movie, in case you've forgotten, which is easy to do. Because he's not terribly memorable. He's just Shane, and he's a nice guy, and sometimes he's around, and other times he's not around.

Elise may not be the biggest fan of Christmas, but that doesn't mean she's not a good person, in case I've given you the wrong impression with my lack of detail regarding her character. On the contrary, Elise is a very good person at heart because she smiles a lot, and she's very patient with pushy children, and she even hires the kindly hobo who squats in her tree lot, paying him in pocket change to deliver the sold trees to various addresses all across the city. She doesn't give him enough money to take a taxi, however, so he has to drag them all around with his bare hands, but he's a scrappy survivor, and those hands are plenty calloused, so it's all good.

Some handsome beef stick of a man named Barren keeps sniffing around the tree lot, buying tree after tree every day and just dumping them in the alley behind the department store because he's just looking for an excuse to stalk Elise, and she finds his troubling behavior very charming and agrees to date him, because although he's a stalker, he seems like one of those affable, harmless stalkers, and their courtship goes very well, and she even falls in love with Barren even though he reveals himself to be a lowly school teacher, because the heart wants what the heart wants. But despite what the bold-faced text above may have told you, Barren does not help Elise save her Christmas tree lot from the machinations of mean old Mr. Dixon. He's really just around for moral support, if anything.

Eventually, Dixon finds some flimsy loophole in the contract his predecessor signed with Elise's parents and evicts the MacReynolds family, even having the City of New York repossess the trees just two days before Christmas, which is a real tragedy, let me tell you. Never mind the fact that these dummies should have made the vast majority of their sales in the immediate aftermath of Thanksgiving, with the final days leading up to Christmas being more of an excuse to liquidate remaining stock, with some lots even giving away the remainder of their trees on the eve of the big holiday to various shelters and low-income families, because, and I know this may be something of a shock for some of my more sensitive Imaginary Readers, but not a lot of people are clamoring for fresh-cut Christmas trees on Christmas Eve. These people have already got their damned trees, and they're not looking for spares. Or they're Jewish.

Speaking of which, there's a Jewish lady in this movie! I can't recall ever seeing one of these movies that actually acknowledges any other religion aside from Christianity, so I found this to be a very pleasant surprise, indeed. She's even the lead character's best friend! And it's not weird or anything! Her name is Nanci, and she's played by actress Inga Cadranel, and she is a delight. She's sassy, she's clever, and at one point, she even name-drops 1989's tribute to buddy cop excess, Tango & Cash, so obviously I'm in love with the woman. Nanci even unexpectedly falls in love with Elise's kooky cousin Shane, and the two excuse themselves from the narrative to "take a long walk home" together near the end of the film. She just found his dopey face irresistible. I guess that makes old Shane something of a shiksa, eh? No, that's not right. The preferred term for men is shegetz. So I guess that makes old Shane something of a shegetz, eh?

No, that's not Joe Morton, you racist! That's Arnold Pinnock, star of something called Combat Hospital!

You're not going to believe this, either, but there are actually two, count 'em, TWO black dudes with speaking parts in this movie! And one of them is actually a really nice guy! Considering Hallmark Channel's generally lily-white appearance, seeing this much diversity in one movie is a veritable rainbow coalition of the acting profession. It's only a damned shame that this seems to be the exception, rather than the rule when it comes to productions like these. Because these movies are almost without exclusion wall-to-wall, front-to-black Caucasian love fests. Honestly, it gets a little awkward after a while to watch a seemingly never-ending stream of white people falling in love and having merry adventures with Santa Claus or renegade guardian angels or whatever, with only the very occasional person of color briefly appearing as a courteous mailman or a genial waiter at some quaint diner. You need to work on your diversity a little, Hallmark Channel.

Moving on, I just keep asking myself why this old codger Mr. Dixon despises Christmas so much. Whatever could it be? Think, dammit, think... What on earth could it possibly be? Did some terrible tragedy relating to Christmas occur in Mr. Dixon's life, perchance? Let's just say hypothetically that his dear wife loved Christmas, maybe she was even born on Christmas, and that perhaps her untimely death served to strangle that Christmas spirit in Dixon's heart, transforming him into the corporate douche that would gleefully stomp on the livelihoods of others just to get his jollies. Nah, that's too obvious. It's gotta be something different, something else-

Dixon's wife was born on Christmas Day and she adored the holiday with all her heart and her untimely death left her husband a broken shell of a man with nothing left to live for except his business, which he threw himself into completely, leaving no room for even simple human decency in his withered old heart. But that's okay, because Elise and Dixon talk it out in the botanical garden his horticulturist wife used to frequent, and everything eventually works out for the best. It's a bog-standard scene in this variety of movie. Hell, the exact same goddamned scene occurred in yesterday's pile of putrescence, so why did I enjoy this one so much? Because of Colin Mochrie, that's why.

Colin Mochrie is a brilliant improvisational comedian and actor who is probably best known to general audiences from his regular stint on the various incarnations of the series Whose Line Is It, Anyway?, from its original incarnation on Britain's Channel 4, to its first American iteration starring Drew Carey, to its current form hosted by Aisha Tyler, Colin Mochrie has been a fixture of the program since its inception, and I've seen nearly every episode. Colin Mochrie was always my favorite comedian on the show, but he's more than just "the bald guy" on Whose Line, enjoying a rather rich career as a character actor, guest-starring on various (mostly Canadian) television comedies and dramas, and he even recently published a sort-of brilliant book entitled Not QUITE The Classics, which uses the first and final lines from various literary classics as bookends for the author to dream up completely different and absurd stories to fill in the gaps, with a different, well-known literary work serving as the inspiration for each chapter. It's very odd, and very funny.

Basically, I'm saying that I'm a charter member of the Colin Mochrie fan club, and seeing his name pop up in the title description for Fir Crazy on my DVR was literally the only reason I chose to watch this movie. And despite his disappointingly limited screen time, the man did not disappoint me in the slightest. The usually very amiable Mochrie's surprisingly quite good at portraying a crotchety, even cruel character, as I discovered in his portrayal of Gary Dixon in this movie, effortlessly conveying his character's disdain for even having to interact with other human beings with a simple glare or slightly exaggerated frown. I never suspected he could convincingly play a dickhead, considering I've always known him primarily for his comedic roles, but he certainly proved me wrong with this particular performance.

But his shining moment comes at that aforementioned confession sequence in the botanical garden, when he finally reveals to Elise the origin of his grudge against Christmas. Dixon's hesitant to say anything to Elise at first, because he's been so private and guarded ever since he lost the love his life, but as soon as he starts talking about her, he just can't seem to stop himself. His eyes become unfocused and his voice grows softer as he remembers how much she used to love the holidays. His lip quivers slightly when he recalls the awful-tasting fruitcakes she would prepare every year, and how much he enjoyed eating them despite their flavor because they were made with love. With every cherished memory that he shares, you can see his defensive walls being demolished, brick by brick, as the well-practiced, worn-down expression of detachment on his face slowly fades away, replaced by a bittersweet smile as he relives a lifetime of memories with the only woman he ever loved. It's truly a remarkable thing to see, and Colin Mochrie makes it all look so easy.

In that moment, I completely believed that he was this broken-down old man who just needed someone to reach out and show him a little kindness, to remind him that the love he shared with his wife isn't dead, but alive in his heart and just waiting for him to acknowledge it. It's a pretty powerful scene, and honestly, it's too good for a movie like this. Not that I have anything against Fir Crazy, mind you. I actually quite enjoyed the movie, to be honest, but it's all so light and fluffy, with no real substance. That's perfectly fine and to be expected, but the scene with Mr. Dixon remembering his late wife is so genuinely strong and emotionally resonant that it feels like it belongs in a completely different movie, the kind of movie with something a little heavier on its mind. But it seems wrong to count one great scene against a movie, so I'm not going to do that.

After this miraculous little scene, Mr. Dixon rekindles his holiday spirit and helps Elise return her tree lot to its rightful place in front of his department store on Christmas Eve, even sticking around a little while to wish all of his put-upon employees a very Merry Christmas before chasing them all out to go home and spend the holidays with their families. Then Elise and Barren passionately kiss in front of a beautifully decorated Christmas tree, and are subsequently trapped forever inside of a gleaming ornament hanging on said tree by an evil wizard, locked for all eternity in the lustful madness of their amorous embrace.

I'm not fucking joking. That's literally how this wacky movie ends. I mean, sure I may have inferred that it was the work of an evil wizard without actually seeing an evil wizard, but who else would want to entrap two young lovers in a passionate embrace inside of a cursed ornament? Jesus? I doubt that. Jesus is too busy not existing to harry the young lovers of the world. It was an evil wizard, and you can't convince me otherwise. What a fucked way to end a movie.

VERDICT: NICE

Look, now that all the losers are gone, there's something important I have to share with you. I'm a generally rational dude, if I'm being honest. I don't buy into superstition or anything silly like that. But while watching Fir Crazy this morning, something caught my eye, something that I can't easily explain, and I don't know exactly what to do about it. I debated long and hard about whether I should even share this with you, but in the end I decided I just couldn't sit on this bombshell.

Tell me, Dear Imaginary Reader: are you familiar with the "Reptilian Conspiracy"? Popularized by professional madman David Icke, it posits that a race of reptilian extraterrestrials live among us, that they have seized positions of power all across the globe, and are secretly in charge of all major world governments. According to the theory, our most powerful politicians are reptilians, our most beloved celebrities are reptilians, and the folks in charge of our major financial institutions are all reptilians. That's just fucking nuts, right?

Until this morning, I would have immediately agreed with you. But then I saw... something that shook me to my very core. Sarah Lancaster, the star of Fir Crazy (also the star of 'Tis The Season For Love, lest I forget) is a member of the reptilian elite. I know how that sounds, but I have proof. I noticed something bizarre at a certain point while watching the movie this morning, and so I paused the picture and took a very illuminating screen capture, and now I shall share it with the world and blow this whole conspiracy wide open. Gaze upon the face of our extraterrestrial masters!

There it is. Incontrovertible proof that David Icke is not a demented wackadoo, but a soothsayer, a modern-day Paul Revere on an endless midnight ride, shouting his warning of impending reptilian doom to the uncaring masses. It all makes perfect sense! Of course corporate entities like Hallmark Channel would be deeply involved in the conspiracy! Their specific brand of feel-good pablum is the perfect opiate for the dull-eyed masses that populate this doomed planet. How many of the congenial stars of the network's offerings are truly human? My god, this could go right to the top! Perhaps even Candace Cameron-Bure is part of the conspiracy!

We live in terrifying times, my friends. You are interested in the unknown, the mysterious, the unexplainable. That is why you keep coming here. It may already be too late to stop these fiends from achieving their nefarious goals, but we mustn't be discouraged. My friends, we cannot keep this a secret any longer. Let us punish the guilty. Let us reward the innocent. My friends, can your hearts stand the shocking truth behind the Hallmark Channel's Countdown to Reptilian Domination?

Who am I kidding? We're fucking doomed.