Santa Claus is Comin' to Town

A helpless child strategically abandoned at the imposing home of a local magistrate, who has no time for unexpected complications and quickly sends the infant away. 

But as it's transported to its new lodging a mighty wind serendipitously picks up, and wildly blows it into the forest where the resident animals note its landing.

They swiftly aid the oblivious child and beatifically bring it to a new dwelling, where the jolly inhabitants warmly welcome their newfound friend with fly enthusiasm. 

Delicate toy makers by trade, they're able to teach the young learner their craft, while also emphasizing useful subjects to encourage flourishing knowledgeable industry (the animals also help out).

They've been making toys for some time but have been unable to share them, since they can't move them across the mountain which the Winter Warlock haunts. 

On the other side of the mountain lies gloomy morose Sombretown, which keeps things unexceptional without much colour, spice, or flavour. 

The baby all grown up, he decides to defy the Warlock and bring the toys to Sombretown. 

Just as they mayor madly decrees. 

That toys from now on are forbidden. 

Kind-hearted wisdom innocently tasked with fluently delivering joy and wonder, his candid pluck widely overflowing with resourceful freeform humble simplicity. 

One of my favourite depictions of Santa which I didn't discover until recently, Arthur Rankin Jr. and Jules Bass at their best as they freely conjure childlike imagination. 

If more people thought like this Santa and loved and lived spontaneous play, kinder hearts would likely cultivate a much less cold and calculating aesthetic. 

His flight likely already having begun, the tantalized world vehemently awaiting his gifts. 

Miraculous speed, transformative knowhow.

Nothing quite like it.

Blessed artistry. 

*Merry Christmas / Joyeux Noël / Happy Holidays!

My Secret Santa

Takin' care of the young one, hard work and responsibility, definitively tuned to age old custom, difficulties compounded, by an absent husband.

On the freakin' flip side, a trust fund wildcat causes damage, his father increasingly fed up with his lack of discipline and wild expenditure.

They meet in a record store one day where she's selling her collection to pay the rent, her candid suitor instantly recognizing her as the singer from The Screaming Kittens.

Her daughter seeks enrolment in a coveted nearby snowboarding school, and since she's just been fired by the cookie factory, coming up with the tuition seems impossible.

Nevertheless, if she can find work at the local ski resort which houses the school, the tuition fee will be cut in half and she'll also chill in a cool environment. 

The only job available however is that of Santa Claus himself, and she's uncertain if they'll consider her if she doesn't have the right disguise. 

It works, she's able to trick them and find gainful employment on the fitful mountain.

The suitor from the record store taking note.

As she lithely brokers hopes and dreams. 

My Secret Santa charmingly enchants with tenacious grit and hardworking solemnity, the advice offered by the newfound Santa helping kids deal with difficult times. 

Not only taking in gift suggestions but dispensing that meaningful advice as well, the Spirit of Christmas resplendently shines through with peaceful vigour and exultant understanding.

Like in Miracle on 34th Street, the real world critiques the upright bearings, and can't reasonably handle a compassionate Santa who smoothly delivers honest decent labour.

But she isn't sent to a mental institution, although there's complications and she has to deal. 

As the impact of wise hands-on knowhow.

Reflectively envelopes communal elasticity. 

Becoming Santa

Santa, always keen to diversify the phantasmagorical features of his origins, finds himself offering another alternative depiction of North Pole life, which boldly suggests he will one day retire once his daughter finds a suitable mate, at which point he'll kick back and ball, in this cute and cuddly romantic comedy.

Many traditional components of Santa's existence are still disseminated, the casual legend of the magnanimous hombre who shares gifts and toys on Christmas Day.

Elves still adorn his workshop with diligent industrious intricate moxy, their resourceful knowhow having exhaustively expanded to crucially create electronic devices.

The reindeer are still a' flourishin' in a giant barn with tales to tell, Rudolph disappearing for most of the year before sleekly showing up on Christmas Eve.

Yet there's a time limit on Santa's tenure and his daughter has found a reliable substitute, who lives and breathes Christmas 24/7, and is humble and jolly and chill and self-sacrificing. 

He doesn't know she's the daughter of the most gifted toymaker in the land however, and awkwardly stumbles into the folklore with eager surprise and determined shock. 

Suddenly learning that he'll indeed become the heralded Claus oft referred to as Nicolas, he gingerly excels at lauded merrymaking, while his rival suitor fills him with dread.

Nonetheless, the film's kind and understanding and emphasizes training and trial and error, natural doubts and inherent discountenance audaciously blended with comprehensive resolve. 

It's not something to master instantaneously it takes time and patience to learn, possessing a spirit which emanates mirth no doubt a prerequisite hearty in bloom. 

Thus even Santa, like many mortals, one day found himself tasked with vision, and dug in deep and got 'er done after many mistakes initially squeezed him.

Fortunately, the zone was compassionate and exceedingly filled with chance and roll call. 

As fair and encouraging as it was indefinite. 

The Holiday Season. 

Effervescently flumed. 

Miracle on 34th Street

It often seems like the jaded objective concrete materialistic obsession, is a feature of contemporary times which didn't exist in bygone days. 

The lack of spiritual enlightenment often attributed to common sense, seems like it wouldn't have existed long ago when cultures were more fantastically grounded. 

But if 1947 is the time marker which correspondingly took place 78 years ago, the agile contention that the present is less imaginative loses momentum in Miracle on 34th Street. 

For within its festive reels we find compulsive dismissals of the Holiday Spirit, and exacting rituals tempestuously inclined to rid its culture of compelling levity. 

Does the indefatigable spiritual not viscerally sustain scientific experiment, through the steady encouragement of alternative endeavours that strategic reasoning would have never conceived on its own?

Does the existence of incorporeal ethereal intangible dynamic being, not facilitate unorthodox thinking that leads to new developments in scientific theory?

We find stale and overwrought examples of traditional skeptical and cynical thought, dismissing the essence of Christmas with contemptuous vitriol in 34th Street.

Even as the remarkable benefits of harmless play lead to exceptional results, bitter acrimonious characters still crudely objurgate Santa's existence. 

Even as he exhaustively displays a meticulous knowledge of toys and where to find them, while speaking different languages with intricate foresight and linguistic flexibility, he's still excessively critiqued by agnostic stipulations from a roundabout age, and even thrown in a mental institution for boldly defending lighthearted humour. 

Should spiritual folk condemn the scientists to an improvised world of non-traditional reckoning, or should psychiatry and reason clerically expel all otherworldly thoughts from cultivated continuums? 

Does a grounded focus on reason and science not lay the framework for reliable consistency, while alternative arrangements cosmically endowed exalt sleigh bell sensations in ceremonious flight?

Does the fortuitous blend not effortlessly synthesize yin and yang with reflexive sanity?

That brings about open-minded efficiencies? 

Magic and moonbeams.

Hot cocoa. 

Gingerbread. 

That Christmas

Awkward alternatives bravely manifest upon a far off inventive seaside stage, where newfound bold uncharacteristic reimaginings strut and flutter in this day and age.

The Christmas season immersively configureights as local residents stride and muster, parents and innovative children alike emotively adopting seasonal levity.

But the routine quotidian yet fascinating happenings are soon traditionally cast aside, as a furious blizzard startlingly descends and the village is cut off from the outside world.

Not only that, but a group of parents suddenly finds themselves stuck off the side of the road, with no cellphone access residually roughing it their children forlorn and ever antsy.

Although they don't dwell on their parents' disappearance after Santa provides them with ideal gifts, and they calmly engage in festive shenanigans improvisationally utilizing the awesome presents.

Meanwhile, a lonesome youth whose father has forgotten about the special day, mournfully seeks the maladroit accompaniment of a local school marm since his mom has to work.

They dig in deep and courageously construct fortuitous memories for when she returns, as bucolic mischief and communal courtesy cerebrally celebrate felicitous feeling.

Another reason to fight global heating, to help ye olde England recover its bearings, a snowstorm may be present within the film but it's nothing compared to that received here in Canada.

In fact just last week 5 adamant feet of challenging snow diabolically descended (no exaggeration), and we were once again reminded of the pioneering spirit that legendarily engineered the development of our land.

If we can fight off global heating and turn the terrorizing tempestuous tide, winters will return to normal across the pond, and their films may once again inspire rugged confidence.

Santa nevertheless is indeed filled with such inclinations, as he braves the "storm" to generously give sought after gifts to the anxious young ones.

It's a cool take on St. Nick who uses his omniscience to choose perfect gifts for the children, and brilliantly leaves them something luminous and cherished before once again departing for his next destination.

A thoughtful shout out is gallantly given to freeform turkey kind in That Christmas as well, as the resident birds at a lacklustre barn are valiantly set free to avoid mealtime melees.

A chill hyped-up account of just how different Christmas might be if the alternatives bear fruit.

And even more innate goodness emerges throughout the season. 

Cool Christmas film embracing festive change.

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer: The Movie

While the bona fide uncompromising authentic origin tale remains unknown, annual hypotheses loosely based on fact swashbucklingly revitalize widespread interest, the diverse ways in which compelling details vividly transform from one story to the next, festively salute constellated mutation throughout mysterious epic skyways. 

The unimaginative and concretely obsessed may be led astray by absolute claims, attempting to harness commercial synergies through ornate mad disingenuous trusts.

It can at times feel lucid and reasonable to indeed contend you've mastered conspiracy, and can exultingly claim genesizzlin' unalloyed paramount intricate distillate digress.

But then how multivariably arrayed is your manifest mischievous missive, how disciplined in/opportune how distinctly yielding manifold dispersals?

Take Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer: The Movie wherein which the wicked Stormella defies Christmas law, and conjures a tumultuous storm to inimically ruin Santa's Christmas Eve flight!

We hear no mention of her in the song nor in the old classics from 1964 or 1948, thus should this account be definitively forecast would it not imprecisely promulgate legend?

It is certainly a humble version and the Holiday Season encourages modesty, as the sublime life of the King of Kings effortlessly illuminates oblivious morrows.

We then find in The Last Crusade the cup of a carpenter awkwardly situated, amongst the luxurious ostentatious pageantry libationally orchestrating abstract life.

It provides trusted Indiana Jones with miraculous good fortune and pious fidelity, through which he's able to heal his father through the unabashed art of temperate self-sacrifice. 

But how to line up every Rudolph the Red-Nosed ever constructively theorized across the globe, and exhaustively vet their fleeting integrity with wholesome and practical unparalleled sights?

Perhaps better to praise inexactitude and celestially bathe in impressionable waters, the sought after divine undiluted tarot disproportionately grave and unimpacting.

Although should it be discovered neither to embrace hysteria nor earthquaking frenzy!

Don't worry, Rudolph shines through.

Stormella even learns to chill out.

🎄🎅🤶🎁⛄

Get Santa

Santa's travels have led him on many a wild-eyed adventurous path, perhaps none so ritualistically disastrous as that trod in the feisty Get Santa.

Within, after accidentally encountering a grounding immobilized malignant encumbrance, he finds himself struggling to locate his cherished reindeer who have erratically dispersed throughout byzantine London.

He seeks to enlist the aid of a troubled soul just released from prison, but his bewildering roundabout strategy sees him scandalously incarcerated instead.

Unaccustomed to prison life, he awkwardly attempts to be disconcerting, but his natural magnanimous innocence ethereally precludes any bellicose mischief.

Meanwhile, the ex-con on parole (Rafe Spall) must help the legend escape, and with the aid and encouragement of his loving son (Kit Connor as Tom), sets about trying to zero-in on the flatulent beasties.

It's a rather complicated procedure considering the number of laws they must violate, on his first day of parole no less, the authorities unsympathetic and unamused.

And just as they reach fabled Elf City and find a new sleigh to break Santa loose, he's suddenly placed back in his cell, and must prepare to be transferred to another prison.

How could such a sociocultural imbalance lead to so distressing an incongruity, as one globally revered for earnest generosity can't enchantingly negotiate spiritual quarter?

As if during that grouchy year the Christmas spirit plunged to unprecedented depths, leaving the habitually wondrous and animately endowed with little recourse for upbeat revelling.

Get Santa captures the inherent disillusionment with woebegone unimpressed adamant criticism, while mischievously celebrating improvised conjuring along with lithe constitutional forgiveness.

In terms of its comedic vocation, the grizzly gaseous go-daddy gallows, maddeningly matriculate maladroit mayhem, with a classic salute to prognostic defiance. 

Seriously, it makes it seem like Santa (Jim Broadbent) has no chance of escape whatsoever, and lays the impossibility on super thick, while still engaging in traditional shenanigans. 

I immediately spotted the Michael Corleone pastiche and thought perhaps it was somewhat ill-suited to the season (the actual scene hails intense violence and heralds the emergence of an intelligent yet ruthless survivalist), but how can I not be forgiving at times such as these, especially when Get Santa fits so well with the '90s.

Classic goodwill and exceptional endeavours oddly uphold this offbeat Christmas romp.

As convincingly touching as many Christmas classics.

High stakes hi-jinx, convivial distaste. 

De Familie Claus

The abundance of Christmas films presenting alternative takes on Santa, suggest he revels in semantic mischief regarding the history of his origins.

Not that it's by any means intentional or deliberate or part of a plan, but as demonstrated by the multiple Christmas films theorizing his legend, it's apparent manifold mythologies have mutated. 

When embracing the legendary unknown it's important to intricately postulate, at times with the aid of well-considered collectives, at others with inspiring novel independence.

I imagine Santa appreciates the heartfelt conjecture and consummate cajoling conjuring, due to the plethora of well-meaning depictions which playfully hypothesize inherent merriment.

Perhaps within the realm of fantasy corporeal precision materializes at times, like the miraculous validity of a mathematical formula, entertainingly applied with reified reckoning.

Thus, Santa likely resides in the far North at a location yet to be determined, generally agreed to be at the North Pole, but perhaps as far off as nimble Ungava.

Reindeer seem to be the animals of choice to magically transport him around the world, perhaps initially detected by the tribes of Scandinavia who perhaps still aerodynamically vet their herds.

Clearly, at some point in history ebullient peeps colloquially referred to as elves, earnestly joined up with the thankful Santa to authentically assist with his diligent craftpersonship.

Perhaps as Scandinavian herdspeople have cultivated a keen spiritual eye over the years regarding reindeer, there are other dedicated students of Christmas constantly searching the globe for talented elves.

Animals seem to be naturally aware of Christmas and are no doubt ethereally linked to Santa, who genuinely cares for their upbeat revelry as curiously presented by Rankin & Bass. 

Perhaps with nothing to do with excess toys left over after Christmas, Santa and his crew began decorating the local coniferous forest in animate lithe accordance.

The idea was then surreally sequestered within a synergetic waking dream, which when realized earnestly instigated the fervid maintenance of similar arbors.

Who knows how accurate the illustrations or how precise the resonant tales!

Nice to see so many, nevertheless!

Every joyous Holiday Season. 

Elliot the Littlest Reindeer

After Blitzen relocates to Jamaica, Santa (George Buza) needs to find a new reindeer, the resulting tryouts to be held posthaste, with many contenders from across the globe.

A feisty horse, who considers the matter imaginatively, thinks he's well-suited for the position (Josh Hutcherson as Elliot), and stows away upon his owner's (Rob Tinkler as Walter) airborne ride, hoping to sneak his way into the competition. 

His owner's facing tough times and may have to sell off his beloved animals, but little does he unsuspectingly know, the potential buyer (Martin Short as Ms. Ludzinka [and Lemondrop and Blitzen]) wishes them harm.

Things are lively at the distant North Pole as the reindeer gather to formidably articulate, old school rivalries and current disputes freeflowingly spiced with a dash of merriment.

Elliot's offbeat goat friend (Samantha Bee as Hazel) works her magic to see he's admitted, his training having roughly prepared him, for the fortuitous aerodyne heights.

But something's not quite right with the haughty general proceedings, as nimble Hazel accidentally detects, she sees extra cookies being given to DJ (Christopher Jacot) (the cookies give animals the power of flight), just before the first aeronautic stage.

After the resulting mayhem, which sees Santa cancel the events, she teams up with a clever journalist (Morena Baccarin as Corkie), to find the source of the flighty contraband. 

A haunting trajectory of historical intrigue clad in deception harrowingly awaits them.

As their human/animal alliance.

Sees the harmonious convergence of species.

Elliot the Littlest Reindeer traditionally celebrates unorthodox thinking, as 'lil Elliot asserts his independence in the hopes of joining Santa's team.

But many other staple traditions are creatively reconceptualized throughout, as Santa's workshop and associated legends take on the vice of the world at large.

Accordingly, Santa isn't lighthearted and jolly but instead rather stern and imposing, as he objectively oversees operations, in order to facilitate Christmas.

The reindeer are generally critiqued for being self-obsessed and somewhat dismissive, as opposed to simply dutifully managing the smooth flow of Santa's sleigh.

And the elves don't only make toys, and don't just work in a merrymaking shop, indeed discipline and order and inviolable hierarchy are much more prominent than Christmas cookies.

It's a solid alternative Christmas film that breaks new ground with festive flair (I'll likely watch this one again).

Even if I prefer a jolly Santa.

And elves encouraging laugh and play.

*With John Cleese (Donner).

Puppy Star Christmas

An adorable dog couple welcomes some new pups to their family, while enjoying celebrity in the public eye, and wondering if they'll make good parents.

It's the Holiday Season once again and they're preparing to host a Christmas Special, and it's rumoured that Santa himself may attend, if not advertised with festive vigour.

But a rogue rival self-obsessed canine has grown tired of making an honest buck (George Newbern as Bark), and decides to enlist contacts from his villainous network in an attempt to take down the North Pole.

Since the elves are generally concerned with do-gooding they're ill-prepared for Bark's sneak attack, and his team quickly infiltrates Santa's workshop and soon locks down Mr. and Mrs. Claus!

They proceed to convert that very same workshop into a commercial purveyor of sought after goods, transforming the free toys Santa generously provides into lucrative commodities indeed for sale.

Such wickedness is shortly followed by an appearance on Tiny (Kaitlyn Maher) and P.U.P's (Mackenzie Sol) Special, where they advertise their soul crushing debauchery with outrageous voracious mad ill-gotten song.

Fortunately for Christmas, the aforementioned pups stow away on Santa's sled (it was borrowed by Bark's minions to fly to the Special), and soon find themselves at the North Pole, nervously determined to rescue Saint Nick.

But Bark's carnal influence and unwitting publicity has seen ye olde naughty list expand exponentially.

Are they too late to save Christmas?

Or is it serendipitous impeccable timing?

Only Christmas will tell, or a keen viewing of this here Puppy Star Christmas, I admit I hadn't seen a dog movie in some time (except for Plague Dogs which wasn't a family film [or wasn't a cutesy sentimental family film]), and wasn't prepared for the cuddliness initially.

But it was kind of cool to briefly immerse myself in a non-cartoon world where dogs can speak, and have their own shows and homes and families and are on an equal footing with adoring humanity.  

Strict logicians may find fault with Puppy Star's inspired non-traditional reasonability, even if it augments the wonders of Santa and his benevolent impetus this time of year.

Puppy Star's blunt depiction of super-greed wholesomely castigates avarice unbound, thereby celebrating altruistic endeavours without leaving joyous reckoning behind.

If you're still in touch with inner absurdity or things that seem nuts you may like this film.

It's fun to think about afterwards.

Perfect for the Holiday Season. 

The Christmas Chronicles: Part Two

Kate Pierce's (Darby Camp) Mom (Kimberly Williams-Paisley) has found a new partner (Tyrese Gibson as Bob) and she can't conceal her rage, the fury festively augmented by a Christmas spent far away in the tropics.

She wishes for freshly fallen snow and sees her mom's new love as an act of betrayal, these feelings spoiling the relaxed mood that otherwise creates free-flowing happiness.

She remains a true believer whose confidence in Santa (Kurt Russell) can't be shaken, but her angst is swiftly noticed by one mischievous rogue elf (Julian Dennison as Belsnickel).

He's left the North Pole after taking things way too far, Santa still hoping to come to terms, if he'll stop messing with his workshop.

He needs a true believer if he's to infiltrate Santa's hood, and steal the source of his power, which comes from the Star of Bethlehem.

He uses trickery to suddenly transport Kate to the inhospitable arctic, along with her Mom's new partner's curious yet timid son (Jahzir Bruno as Jack).

Santa comes to the rescue and soon hot cocoa is being served, remembrances of things past producing wondrous mirthful awestruck playful reckonings.

But Belsnickel has found a way in and soon he's stolen the cherished source.

Santa setting off in hot pursuit.

Back to his humble origins.

Another endearing portrayal of Santa can be found in The Christmas Chronicles: Part Two, and this time he's aided by Mrs. Claus (Goldie Hawn), not to mention time travel, too .

He responds to Belsnickel's foul play with animate vigour and robust determination, never faltering in his jocose resolve, to ensure the integrity of Christmas.

Even as things seem bleak beyond recuperation, he applies a sprightly chuckle clearly clasping resuscitation. 

There's nothing grim about him no misgivings or balks or anger, and no matter what Belsnickel does, he'll still dismiss the dismal danger.

He even appreciates Belsnickel's ingenuity as they engage in epic conflict, he isn't jealous or even upset, it's pure goodwill immaculate charm.

It's cool to see a Christmas film that still upholds spirited goodwill.

There's plenty of Mrs. Claus too.

And a focus on challenging gender bias.

Klaus

A new recruit to the national postal service lounges in august pamper, unconcerned with military discipline since he's related to the big kahuna.

Yet his antics have inspired contempt within the stilted command structure, which decides to test his mettle through expeditious transfer.

His assignment's the worst available far off and inhospitable, the townsfolk feuding in bleak decay and none too fond of light or merriment.

His initial attempts to establish a post office are theatrically rebuffed, the inhabitants more concerned with enraging representatives of opposing clans.

The teacher's given up and transformed her school into a fish market, and what used to pass for casual conversation is now infused with bland mistrust.

The children are quite downcast with grim ill-will stunting their growth, animosity they fail to comprehend since its plain and simply much too childish.

But the new mailperson discovers an address remotely situated within the forest, and decides to venture forth to nurture friendly relations.

At first the man seems grumpy disinclined to welcome guests, but as time passes a soft heart emerges once attuned to jokes and jests.

It turns out he's a skilled toymaker who's never found a clientele, to thoroughly enjoy his effervescent nifty swell.

A team is forged through bright goodwill endemic conflict notwithstanding, to joyously illuminate mirth laughter playful planning.

Something much less supernatural yet adventurously fated, to bring about consoling clout luminosity backdated.

Well put together patient strands unified with daring poise, to storytell through quench and quell enduring corduroy.

A turn around fulfillment found the sprightly communal favour, year after year enriching cheer this Klaus emits sun savour.

More for kids yet still unbid still cordially composed, its depths dispersed its clefts expertly animating growth.

Who knows perhaps through spits and spats this film could bring together, antipodes wildly opposed destructive feudal feathers.

At least at Christmas there's no need for postures left or right, non-denominational goodwill persisting light.

Could be that way no need to bray the future's neverending.

Old school lame polemics tamed diplomacy a' trending.  

The Christmas Chronicles

The Christmas spirit has hit a critical low as people across North America stubbornly refuse to believe.

And Santa's (Kurt Russell) in trouble.

His sleigh having encountered unexpected turbulence, he's lost touch with his reindeer, and crash landed in Chicago.

He needs help, and even though he provides the adult world with ample evidence to prove he's authentic, expressing himself in different languages and reflexively presenting the perfect gift, its cold shoulder is still bluntly given, and he must therefore improvise distraught on the road.

Those who have stowed away for the journey, or part of the journey, find themselves lost in hostile streets alone, within which wits must be developed then relied upon, as potential ends for corrupt pastimes ring true.

While Santa heads to prison.

His characteristic charm and overflowing goodwill ensure he still makes the most of it, but at points things do seem rather grim, like Who-ville on lockdown, or blind commercial obsessions.

Yet true believers still remain committed to setting him free.

With hopes he will finish his work.

And save the Holiday Season yet again.

In The Christmas Chronicles.

Wherein innocence is exonerated.

A bit too hasty, perhaps, time is an issue, but naive assumptions don't compensate for productive tension.

If Santa's appeals in the restaurant had been less confident, and his audience had been more willing to listen, for instance, the result wouldn't have seemed so rushed, and stronger emotions could have been sincerely generated.

Chronicles excels at critiquing hard-hearted dismissals of the season, but still stuffers from a surplus of disbelief, which creates a bleak atmosphere, much less infused with seasonal mirth making.

Santa can't do it all himself, although Russell impresses.

Try not to misunderstand, as far as Christmas films go, it's better than many, and Santa's blunt spirited enthusiasm is endearing.

But the film's more like a video game than a movie, like Santa has to boldly pass level after level, quickly, instead of just reacting and commenting within a deep narrative.

The binge viewing aesthetic is oddly like a video game, or at least much less like a broadcast television show.

Rather than lure viewers in with great stories, perhaps binge oriented series are trying to make them feel just as great for having finished an episode as they would have had they passed a level?

Thus, although presenting hearty protagonists reverently dedicated to the holiday season, The Christmas Chronicles would have benefitted from a little more time and patience.

That perfect gift doesn't just materialize out of thin air or show up thanks to formulae or speculation.

It takes love, foresight, originality, and spontaneity, to demand it be purchased.

Or placed upon a heartfelt wish list.

Written with care.

Mailed due North.

A Very Harold & Kumar 3D Christmas

Good God. What the hell happened to Christmas?

It seems as if the traditional Christmas special has been warped and welded into a devious pot smoking lingerie modelling gangster frolicking schism, just in time to usher in the 2011 holiday season. A special crafted for those who have grown weary of the predictable patterns worked into the yearly festive Frostyesque line-up and are hungrily seeking a palpable harbinger of mainstream subversion, of decadent diversions, of subterranean incursions.

Fully endorsed by Santa.

A Very Harold & Kumar 3D Christmas provides such content and insouciantly precipitates a brazen comical maelstrom into which the politically correct is unwittingly thrust.

As Harold (John Cho) and Kumar (Hal Penn) frantically search for a new Christmas tree.

Trying to make sense of the ways in which this film confronts stereotyping is challenging. It's as if representatives of two minority groups are saying that due to the institutional barriers firmly established by the Anglo-Saxon majority it's impossible for us to successfully integrate into the mainstream, but we'll still give it a shot, and playfully present you with exactly what you would expect, based upon your own preconceptions, while opening up a resultant critical space in your public sphere, and affectively plunging within full throttle.

You see, the mainstream often prevents minorities from successfully integrating into its culture. It does so in order to horde the prominent signs of achievement and associated luxuries for itself. As minorities still seek to earn a living and take care of their families, they must find a way to do so in the underground, using the only resources they have available to their general advantage (selling narcotics etc.). If racist institutional representatives and policies promote these stereotypes and they are upheld by their ethnic non-professional counterparts, and progressive legislation such as affirmative action is suppressed, you directly stifle an enormous degree of potential, and keep generations of prominent public role models from ever being able to productively apply themselves.

Therefore the underground becomes their outlet and they carve out an existence within while demonstrating that some of the 'demonized' resources they control (marijuana) aren't really that bad and would legitimize their 'unlawful' pursuits if legalized.

There's some of this in A Very Harold & Kumar 3D Christmas and they definitely take things to new levels as they nurture a tormented frustrated blockaded aesthetic while working within a form that has been culturally stabilized.

All the while applying new meanings to concepts like marriage, family, and friendship.

And smoking that reefer.