Bad Santa
Studio: Dimension
Website: http://www.apple.com/trailers/miramax/bad_santa/
Release Date: 2003-11-26
Cast: Billy Bob Thornton, Bernie Mac, Lauren Graham, John Ritter, Brett Kelly
Director: Terry Zwigoff
Screenwriter: John Requa, Glenn Ficarra
Music Score: David Kitay
WorkNameSort: Bad Santa
Our Rating: 4.00
Rumors circulated last week that Disney bigwigs were absolutely horrified by “Bad Santa,” the lip-smackingly evil anti-Christmas picture being put into theaters by their sister company Dimension Films. The controversy was probably a PR hoax — after all, the movie had been awaiting release for close to a year — but at least it was a self-aware one. If the Mouse House was whispering its condemnation, the film’s core audience of mistletoe-hating misanthropes had to know that this was a flick worth seeing, right?
Right. Like a holly-bedecked amalgam of “The Bad News Bears” and “Shakes the Clown,” “Bad Santa” takes a hammer to childhood iconography and comes away with a memorable monument to ill-tempered catharsis. It isn’t always a model of ingenuity, but more often than not, it’s terrifically funny. As in still-laughing-the-next-day funny.
With no cows held sacred and no apologies forthcoming, the movie thrusts us into the dark world of Willie Stokes (Billy Bob Thornton), a hostile, self-loathing, hopelessly alcoholic safecracker who plays Santa at a different department store every year. While a seemingly endless procession of tykes queues up to tell Santa Willie the contents of their wish books, he’s actually casing the joint, preparing to make off with its assets in one big Christmas Eve heist. To accomplish this Grinchly goal, Willie relies on the intelligence-gathering abilities of his elf-impersonating sidekick, Marcus (Tony Cox), a black midget who’s only slightly less dissolute than Willie is — and never lets him forget it.
Given that Willie puts barely one iota of effort into appearing vaguely Kringle-like, he has plenty of time to pursue his real interests, like getting pants-wetting drunk and having anal sex with full-figured women. On the few occasions his debauched autonomy is threatened, he waves off his accusers with a winning combination of sheer chutzpah and the threat of public retaliation — all the easier to float when your accomplice is a member of two minority groups. (The role of a mousy store manager who mounts a halfhearted challenge to Willie’s shenanigans is ably played by the late John Ritter.)
Director/cowriter Terry Zwigoff (of the mostly dissimilar “Ghost World”) understands that hard-core nihilists like Willie can get away with just about anything, and the moral vacuum he sets up inspires a tour de force performance by Thornton, who proves masterful at conveying simultaneous shame and antagonism. Though Willie is often seen moping his way through a morning-after comedown, unshaven and staring mournfully into the distance, his alienation can turn to ball-breaking rage at the drop of a Santa hat. Whether he’s kicking a papier-mâ?°ch? display animal to smithereens or subjecting kid after kid to his corrosive derision, the character is a twisted idol to anyone who’s ever looked at a group of cheery carolers and felt the urge to ask, “What the hell is wrong with you people?” Except that such invective is far too mild for “Bad Santa,” a barely broken string of uproarious profanities that, taken together, explain why the movie’s trailer looked so lame: None of the movie’s best laugh lines could possibly have been included in it.
As with its conceptual mirror image, “Elf,” the film is one endlessly repeated joke, with Willie behaving like a churl to people who expect a cozy few minutes with Father Christmas. But it’s a good joke, and Thornton tells the hell out of it. Though the character is introduced in a voice-over monologue that touches on his tragic upbringing, Zwigoff and his cowriters (including the Coen Brothers and the team responsible for “Cats & Dogs,” of all things) shy reliably away from the maudlin. The closest thing to a holiday miracle is Willie’s gradual warming to a doughy fan (Brett Kelly) whom he decides nauseates him a little less than everyone else on the planet. A slow crawl up to whatever’s just below humanity is the best that’s in store for Willie, and the process should in no way be confused with that most tired of Hollywood concepts, “redemption.” Use a word like that within 50 feet of this picture and Santa will kick your ass.
This article appears in Nov 26 – Dec 2, 2003.