Bad Santa

But Bad Santa does feature one last turn from the late John Ritter as a twittery department-store manager (his name, Mr. Chipeska, is a stroke of brilliance that I still can't quite put my finger on).

This is a filmmaker who instinctively knows that a shot of Santa sitting at a bar as Ricky Nelson sings Jingle Bells will be no-frills funny.

Zwigoff doesn't hype up the gags, and his deliberately deadpan style gives even farfetched jokes an edge of reality.

An unrepentantly rude, anti-seasonal dish of malice and mischief. Director Terry Zwigoff works from a story that originated with the Coen brothers and passed through at least four writers, including him...The results may leave you aghast or breathless with laughter, but you won't be neutral.

First-rate talent and a uniquely dyspeptic mood separate this effort from more routine, populist stabs at tasteless yukkage.

Gets stuck in a rut. Hearing Santa say “f---” isn't nearly as funny the 50th time as it is the first 49.

If you're addicted to Billy Bob Thornton's slovenly charm, and thrill to the prospect of watching him talk endlessly about his bodily functions and penchant for anal sex with obese women, this is your movie. If not, it's like 90 minutes in hell.

Another one of my favorite comedies of all time! It's hilarious, smart, and quite exciting! If you love comedy, you will surely love Bad Santa! It's a huge recommend!

Bad Santa. Get drunk and fall under the tree. A funny, but no more black comedy about not the best Santa. Billy Bob Thornton did an excellent job of this role. Otherwise, there is nothing interesting in the film.

We get it. Billy Bob Thorton is a foul-mouthed, drunken criminal- but wait- this kid thinks he's the real Santa Claus. It's been done before- and the joke gets old fast.

I finally sat down and watched this after hearing for years about how what a classic this movie is supposed to be. I don't get the hype. This movie is depressing. I think I might have smiled once or twice at some of the half-hearted attempts at humor, but I didn't laugh a single time. "Hey look! It's Billy Bob Thornton acting like a bitter drunk a-hole! Hilarskis!" Yeah, I won't be watching this a second time.

Leaning into his typecast as a crusty, grimy, over-liquored lowlife, Billy Bob Thornton stuffs the holiday season with all manner of withering glares, acidic snipes and piss-puddle pass-outs. Thornton isn’t just a bad Santa, he’s a bad human being... though not quite so bad as the others in his orbit. In the midst of a decade-long bender, he’s barely functional enough to pull off the annual Christmas Eve robberies that fund his sad, hedonistic lifestyle. Does anyone really expect him to fill out his cover story as a picturesque, compassionate, attentive mall stand-in? He’d just as soon drown these kids as hear about their dreams or pose for their mothers’ **** Santa really only has one note: watch its stars behave like a crew of misanthropic ogres, then contrast the rotten mood with a dash of childish innocence. Slimy people doing slimy things in inappropriate locations. Ad nauseam. That repetition grows even more pronounced when a young bullying victim gives the pathetic, red-suited wretch a swanky place to lay his head. This kid’s already been abused and abandoned by his peers and parents; seems like as good a place as any to pile on. Thornton wastes no time, barely registering his host as more than a nuisance. He doesn’t even offer a hint of changing his ways until the film has about five minutes left in its running time. Why bother with a character arc when we can keep hammering the same crass, unimaginative jokes and phone it in at the finish line?Pointlessly mean-spirited and not even particularly amusing, this makes a better low-concept movie poster than it does a ninety-minute comedy. Thornton wetting himself on Santa’s throne is the enduring image, and for good reason. His apathy and meandering listlessness runs parallel to the film’s. I couldn’t wait for it to end.