Whatever else one may want to say about it, 1996’s Jingle All The Way is a cute film.
It’s necessary to point that out because Jingle All The Way has a terrible reputation and, if we’re going to be honest, it deserves a lot of the criticism that it has gotten over the years. In many ways, it epitomizes the way a Hollywood studio can take an interesting idea and then produce a film that seems to have no understanding of what made that idea so interesting in the first place. Arnold Schwarzenegger plays Howard Langston, an overworked mattress store manager who waits until Christmas Eve to try to buy his son a Turbo Man action figure. (In the film, they call it a “doll,” which is one of the film’s false moments.) The only problem is that the Turbo Man action figure is the most popular gift of the year and everyone is looking for one. What starts out at as a satire of commercialism ultimately becomes a celebration of the same thing as Howard ends up dressed up as Turbo Man and taking part in his town’s Christmas parade. The film becomes a comedy without any sharp edges.
That said, it’s a cute film. It’s not cute enough to really be good but it is cute enough that it won’t leave you filled with rage. Arnold Schwarzenegger is in True Lies mode here, playing a seemingly boring and suburban guy who is secretly a badass. (In True Lies, Schwarzenegger was secretly a spy who had killed man people, though all of them were bad. In Jingle All The Way, he’s just a parent who has waited too long to go Christmas shopping.) Schwarzenegger’s main strength as an action star — even beyond his physique — was that he always seemed to have a genuine sense of humor and he’s the best thing about Jingle All The Way. This film finds him acting opposite actual comedic actors like Jim Belushi and Phil Hartman and holding his own. (The film also features Sinbad as another dad trying to get the Turbo Man action figure but Sinbad comes across as being more of a stand-up comedian doing bits from his routine than an actual character.) The film’s set pieces grow increasingly bizarre and surreal as Howard searches for his Turbo Man and the film actually becomes less effective the stranger that it gets. A scene of Howard fighting a crowd in a toy store works far better than a later scene where Howard battles a bunch of men dressed as Santa Claus and his elves. (It doesn’t help that, after an intelligent and well-edited opening thirty minutes, the film seems to lose all concept of comedic timing.) But there’s a sincerity to Schwarzenegger’s performance that keeps you watching.
Of course, today, Jingle All The Way feels like a relic from a different age. All the kids want a Turbo Man and you’re so busy at work that the stores are closed by the time you get home? Fine. Hop on Amazon at three in the morning and order one. Christmas shopping is a lot easier nowadays.
It’s just not as much fun.
The year is 1998 and America is flat broke. Paper currency is now worthless and, to the joy of Ron Paul supporters everywhere, all transactions are done in gold. After the country ran out of oil, people started using skateboards and bicycles for transportation and many turned their cars into homes. While the citizenry spends their time consuming a steady diet of sitcoms and reality television, the government tries to figure out how to pay back the loan that it took from Sam Birdwater (Chief Dan George), a Native American who made billions after buying Nike. Birdwater wants his money back and he is prepared to foreclose on the entire country.
Stop me if you’ve heard this one before.
Like any newly inaugurated President, Manfred Link (Bob Newhart) faces many new challenges. The biggest challenge, though, is keeping control of his family and his White House staff. His wife (Madeline Kahn) is an alcoholic. His 28 year-old daughter (Gilda Radner) is so desperate to finally lose her virginity that she is constantly trying to sneak out of the White House. General Dumpson (Rip Torn) wants to start a war. Press Secretary Bunthorne (Richard Benjamin), Ambassador Spender (Harvey Korman), and Presidential Assistant Feebleman (Fred Willard) struggle and often fail to convince everyone that all is well.
Through the Shattered Lens 