Bad Santa

Some people, upon seeing that there is a film called "Bad Santa," will think that said film is about a gruff, cold, sad Santa who doesn't make the little kids feel as happy as they should while on his lap detailing their material wants — not a bad person who is a Santa so much as a Santa who has temporarily forgotten the true meaning of Christmas and wants only true love and the innocent heart of a small child to set himself aright. Those people will be horribly, gloriously wrong.

The Santa in this film is no garden-variety bad Santa. This Santa polishes off more bottles than a glassware expert on Antiques Roadshow, curses like a rapper on payday, loses control of his bodily functions on a regular basis, and thinks he's taken a step forward by having random cheap sex only with fat women. To top it off, his whole life revolves around a yearly con with a dwarf who plays his elf; the two of them stake out the mall in which they ply their trade as the holidays draw nearer and, on Christmas Eve, clean out the joint for cash and assorted consumables. Tragic? Hardly. "Bad Santa" is the funniest black comedy in quite some time. Ho ho ho.

That's not particularly surprising, given the all-star cast of black comedians that made the movie: Ethan and Joel Coen, executive producers and writers of the story; Terry Zwigoff, screenwriter and director; and, primus inter pares, Billy Bob Thornton as the titular tiding of holiday cheer. When he's trying, as he is while playing Willie/Santa here, nobody looks more hangdog than Thornton; the lines and folds in his face always seem to be shielding him from whatever sources of light assault his hangover, his eyes seem dead and bloodshot even when they're not, and the slump of his body is as expressive as it is persistent. He doesn't get jolly when he gets loaded; he pities himself and rages at the world around him, and looks for relief in the aforementioned cheap sex. It would all be disturbing or pathetic if it were not for two things: Everyone involved is playing his suffering for laughs, including Thornton, who has a continuing misguided belief in his own dignity; and he wears the Santa suit for nearly the entire length of the film.

Zwigoff understands exactly how to make that funny, managing every little thing to heighten the contrast between our sky-high expectations for the holiday season and Thornton's squalid reality. The flat shots of the absurd abundance of clothing laid out on department-store floors, the carpet of holiday-classic sound cues by Tchaikovsky and others, the sight of a gentle snowfall of a quiet December evening, and the queues of avaricious children with their nicely dressed moms are ruined — ruined, I tell you! — by this staggering, cursing lout of a man. And quite on purpose. There's not much funnier than seeing the hope drain out of the faces of a whole bunch of kids as Santa straggles into the "Christmas Corral" (we're in Phoenix) and starts beating up papier-mâché reindeer. Zwigoff understands that as much as Thornton is ridiculous, so, in a way, are all the trappings of our yuletide season, and it takes one to see the other.

If you can't abide that — if you can't muster even a bit of sympathy for that viewpoint — "Bad Santa" is not for you. But you'll be missing plenty of good stuff besides Thornton: Tony Cox plays Marcus the elf with brio and incisive glee, acting the responsible one by showing up on time and gladhanding the kids, then ripping Santa a new one in private. Bernie Mac appears as a security guard with as many moral problems as Willie and Marcus, and even less sentimentality about Christmas and private property; an insult battle where Cox holds his ground against an astonished Mac is just priceless. You'll be missing John Ritter in a posthumous cinematic role as a squirmingly sensitive mall manager who vacillates about firing Willie and Marcus even after people start complaining that their kids are being cursed at while on Santa's lap. You'll be missing Lauren Graham as a hot waitress who's eager to give men in Santa suits more than milk and cookies, an offer tempting enough that Willie breaks his fat-women-only rule.

And you'll be missing a stolid little fat kid named Thurman Merman and played by Brett Kelly. Despite his penchant for asking moronic questions and getting wedgies that stretch the elastic of physical possibility, he is nevertheless both blank of mind and pure of heart, and his entry into Willie's life…well, let's just say that as black as this comedy is, it eventually sees through even the ridiculousness of the season to the impulse at its heart and makes room for the nobler human emotions. A very little bit of room. Right at the end, after a whole bunch of hilarious stuff happens. All but the most the diehard cynics among you will understand. After all, it's Christmas!

Attractive Man Count: 1 (Bernie Mac).

Attractive Woman Count: 1 (Graham).

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