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Fred Claus – Spoiler Free Review

Christmas is, without a doubt, one of my favorite holidays. It is right up there with Halloween. (I know those two don't seem to go hand-in-hand, unless you look into the whole "hey, lets get these Pagans into our religion by adding their cooler elements into ours"). Anyway, I love Christmas and all the cliché elements attached to it. It isn't so much the consumer part of the holiday. Indeed, I avoid that section as much as possible; no doubt my years working in the mall had something to do with that. Nope, I love the intangible feeling of Christmas. I love sitting around a fire with friends and family. I love Christmas music. I love sipping a warm mulled wine or peppermint hot chocolate. I even love Christmas movies.

Will Fred Clause makes its way to the list?

In a word. No. See, the story goes like this: Santa Claus (Paul Giamatti) has an older brother, Fred Claus (Vince Vaughn). Yes, as you would expect, Santa has the perfect childhood and everyone loves him, so much so that he becomes a saint. His brother Fred is the typical slacker / con man. Fast forward a few centuries (oh yea, becoming a saint makes said saint and his family immortal. Thank God for pre-credits voice overs). As I was saying, fast forward a few centuries and you can guess how Fred and Santa get along. They really don't, well Santa loves his brother cause, well, he is Santa. Fred is a slimy a-hole, but he has that Swingers charm that still allows him to sleep with the ever-so sexy Rachel Weisz. He also understands what it means to have a rough childhood, since his harpy of a mother (Kathy Bates), treated him like dirt once Saint Nick came into existence. Said understanding allows him to befriend a young Black boy that bounces from one foster home and/or family member to another. (Remember, if we learned anything from Diff'rent Strokes, it is that only an adult White man can help a lost Black boy, oh and Small People are good visual gags, but I'll get to that later. Maybe). Anyway... Fred gets in financial trouble. Calls Santa. Goes to North Pole. Dances and fights Elves. Screws up and then, of course, learns a valuable lesson and all is good. Christmas is saved. (Insert "Yippie").

Yes, Fred Clause made me angry.

Turn the way back machine to your wee childhood. Remember how it felt to see all those presents slowly pile up under the Christmas Tree? Sure, you acted like you enjoyed giving more than receiving, but as a kid it was all about the receiving. You'd sneak peeks under the tree and count how many of the gifts had your name on them. (I got so bad that my sneaky mom began to swap tags). There was always the smaller gifts that made rattle noises when you shook them. You'd instantly pass up the packages that were smooshy, those were always socks and were always from your crazy Aunt Gilda. Then there was the massive gift that your mom or dad stuck in the corner of the room because it was simply too friggen large to fit under the tree! Holy sweet Jack Frost! What bit of childhood goodness could possible be so large that they had to stick it in the corner of the room!? The mind begins to spin. December 25th simply can't arrive fast enough! Everyday you pass that tree and stare at the massive gift in the corner. You squint and with all your might pray to the holy Flying Spaghetti Monster that he grant your x-ray vision for but a moment so you can peer into that box of mystery. It gets worse when the school gets out for Winter Beak, no longer can you pass the time perfecting your cursive and learning how to multiple without that beige Pee Chee folder. Each and every day you rise from bed knowing you are one day closer to that glorious morning when you can rip into the massive gift. Then. After so many days of taunting. Christmas arrives. You bolt out of your bed and bounce around like a methed out cheetah until your parents rise and give into your youthful exuberance.

Then, they make you wait even longer.

However, it doesn't matter. You know that the joy of ripping into that gift is mere minutes away. In fact, you are starting to enjoy the electric tension within your heart as each piece of ripped gift paper brings you closer and closer to gift nirvana! Then the time comes. Painted tree pulp product carnage all over the floor. Your dad on his third cup of coffee as he comes down from his gin hangover haze. Your mom smiles at you in ways that only a mother can smile on Christmas day. She stands, walks over to the corner. You try your best to act all nonchalant, forgetting the fact that your family has watched you bounc around for weeks leading up to this very moment. She places the gift in front of you. You jump to your feet. You pounce upon the gift and with all the subtly of a rabid Wolverine. You tear into that gift. Like an untested Warp Drive, your entire existence shifts into a wormhole and time slows. At last, you reach the Event Horizon of the Christmas season. Your hand plunges deep into the Styrofoam peanuts, deeper and deeper you reach. There, in the middle! You feel something. Your hand clamps down. With all the might your young body can muster you yank! Success!

There, clamped in your little digit is the biggest winter coat you've ever seen!

A coat?! What the frak!?! A friggen coat? That was what had you so excited for weeks. That is what you were basing all your consumer Christmas joy upon? This was your mom's idea of a fantastic final gift? It isn't even a cool superhero coat, sure they don't keep you warm, but at least they look awesome. Oh no, this a Nanook of the North style coat. A coat that inspires your dad to state, "alright, now the boy can bring in the wood no matter how cold it gets". Really? Was that the point? This is what you call a grand gift?! This was the best you could do? Once the disappointment lessens, you shrug and put on your best game face. Your parents did mean well. Might as well put it on, give your mom a chance to smile and snap a photo on her brand new 110 film camera. Sadly, to make matters worse. You had a growth spurt right after she ordered it from the JC Penny Winter Catalog. (That came out in June).

The damn thing doesn't even fit.

Yes, Fred Claus is like that. A big winter coat that doesn't fit. But with midget jokes and uncomfortable commentary on race relations

Geek in the City gives Fred Clause 1 out of 5 Critical Hits.

Why 1? Well, cause the 90 second scene with Roger Clinton and Adam Baldwin was pretty damn funny.

I don't know if that is a compliment or not.