Wild things are in the works when tabloid-journalist-with-a-traumatic-past™️ Gabe Snow (who looks like Clark Kent by way of Robert Z’Dar) hits on something horrifying in the holiday conspiracy rag he writes for. You may be saying: “That sounds like a publication with a very limited audience”. Well, first off, shut up and secondly, I’d subscribe. Anyways, Flight 1225 was brought down one Christmas Eve by a flying creature with a red nose. This is big news and this is the kind of news that Clausferatu… just as you may have guessed, he’s the satanic vampire anti-Claus… is very interested in. How does one react when certain news of a tragedy and a Christmas legend meet in such a chaotic fashion? Well, ya release monstrous flesh-eating elves (who were dressed by Michelle Pfeiffer’s Catwoman working with an extremely tight budget) into the world to collect a bunch of information for whatever nefarious goals one such as Clausferatu has… naturally. But that’s just the basics, and the fact that the insanity you have just read is the basics should give you a good idea on how much enjoyment you’ll be getting out of this flick. Seemingly shot in and around your best friend’s family home and utilizing your roommate’s girlfriend’s access to local businesses, everything feels homegrown except for the story that may have been birthed in Lovecraft’s black seas of infinity… only these seas are made of expired eggnog. This is a world where grumpiness is the prime emotion, a loaded gun is given as a Christmas present, Rudolph’s nose holds some pretty damn important secrets, hospitals are closed on Christmas, an ill-tempered adulteress is somehow downright lovable, the term “the ghost of Christmas pissed” is used correctly, a duster-rocking cowboy with a pair of six shooters knows the score, leather-clad nun-ninjas (nunjas?) are sponsored by the Vatican and budget animation is a valid way to present a flashback. It’s a world I want to live in. It’s a world that never feels like it’s trying to be insane, it feels like someone was working out their Yuletide demons but also had forbidden knowledge of an alternate reality that existed on the other side of shadows and unabashedly preferred 1989’s Elves to Joe Dante’s Gremlins. And while they’re at it, they may just save love and Christmas. Is it perfect? Of course it’s not. Nothing ever is when it’s stained with blood, sweat and tears because the funds available and the imagination bubbling within were unevenly matched. That’s what makes these things so damn special.
No comments:
Post a Comment