Every once in awhile, I decide to watch a movie knowing full well that I'll hate it. Usually I'm hoping it'll be bad enough that a little booze and some similarly critical friends will turn a tedious ninety-minute torture-fest into something that's at least amusing, if not hilariously bad.
We poured some wine, dimmed the lights, and settled in with Chasing Christmas, a made-for-TV movie that should have been gloriously bad but was instead just boring. Tom Arnold stars as Jack, a bitter, angry man with a bratty teenage daughter, a failed marriage, and the worst case of rhinitis since the entire cast of Scarface sniffed their way through years of cocaine addiction.
It seems Jack hates Christmas because he caught his wife shagging some guy in the coat closet at his daughter's Christmas play. The wife, who is unapologetically skanky and slutty throughout the movie, left him for another man and moved to London. At one point, this subplot is showcased in a ridiculous green screen scene with her new paramour, some champagne, and Big Ben seen through the windows beyond.
Like most terrible Christmas films, the movie's plot loosely and tiresomely follows the plot of A Christmas Carol. Except this time the ghosts of Christmas Past and Present have personalities. Past, played by a creepy little man with the soft Southern drawl of a registered sex offender, wants to stay in the past, and leads Jack and Present (played by some blonde Amazon who is neither funny nor sexy) on a series of repetitive, madcap dashes through the decades. Hamfisted homages to other Christmas movies abound and the sets, costumes, and extras are about what you'd expect from a TV movie; that is to say, they are shamefully bad. The "Goofs" section for this movie should be the longest in IMDb history.
Look for Tom Arnold and the slut wife actress playing younger versions of themselves in the latter part of the movie; despite a cheap wig on Arnold and some bad vintage costumes, both are clearly middle-aged and wrinkly. Typical Baby Boomer conceit or mere low budget corner-cutting? You decide! Also amusing is a scene in which Tom Arnold decries the lack of Santa-less Coke cans in a drug store; in the next shot, there's a huge display of non-seasonal Coke cans in the background. Oops.
Chasing Christmas drags on and on and by the end, we were drinking heavily, solemnly, white-knuckled grips on our glasses. All mirth was gone and even Arnold's embarrassing, desperate reformation couldn't bring the smiles back. This movie was tawdry, cheap, ill- conceived, and worst of all, boring. Avoid it.
We poured some wine, dimmed the lights, and settled in with Chasing Christmas, a made-for-TV movie that should have been gloriously bad but was instead just boring. Tom Arnold stars as Jack, a bitter, angry man with a bratty teenage daughter, a failed marriage, and the worst case of rhinitis since the entire cast of Scarface sniffed their way through years of cocaine addiction.
It seems Jack hates Christmas because he caught his wife shagging some guy in the coat closet at his daughter's Christmas play. The wife, who is unapologetically skanky and slutty throughout the movie, left him for another man and moved to London. At one point, this subplot is showcased in a ridiculous green screen scene with her new paramour, some champagne, and Big Ben seen through the windows beyond.
Like most terrible Christmas films, the movie's plot loosely and tiresomely follows the plot of A Christmas Carol. Except this time the ghosts of Christmas Past and Present have personalities. Past, played by a creepy little man with the soft Southern drawl of a registered sex offender, wants to stay in the past, and leads Jack and Present (played by some blonde Amazon who is neither funny nor sexy) on a series of repetitive, madcap dashes through the decades. Hamfisted homages to other Christmas movies abound and the sets, costumes, and extras are about what you'd expect from a TV movie; that is to say, they are shamefully bad. The "Goofs" section for this movie should be the longest in IMDb history.
Look for Tom Arnold and the slut wife actress playing younger versions of themselves in the latter part of the movie; despite a cheap wig on Arnold and some bad vintage costumes, both are clearly middle-aged and wrinkly. Typical Baby Boomer conceit or mere low budget corner-cutting? You decide! Also amusing is a scene in which Tom Arnold decries the lack of Santa-less Coke cans in a drug store; in the next shot, there's a huge display of non-seasonal Coke cans in the background. Oops.
Chasing Christmas drags on and on and by the end, we were drinking heavily, solemnly, white-knuckled grips on our glasses. All mirth was gone and even Arnold's embarrassing, desperate reformation couldn't bring the smiles back. This movie was tawdry, cheap, ill- conceived, and worst of all, boring. Avoid it.