We could write a graduate thesis or two on all of the rampant stupidity peppered throughout the script of Santa With Muscles, but we're just going to hit the most unforgivable highlights here, all of which revolve around the orphanage. The orphanage which Santa Hulk abandons his shopping-mall throne for, because he saved their donation money and that just wasn't good enough for him, dammit. The orphanage which is housed in a gigantic cathedral of a church, despite the fact that they only have a grand total of three kids. The orphanage/palace that exists over a vast network of underground catacombs, complete with rotting skeletons every few hundred feet*. The orphanage that conceals a vast treasure trove of "electrified quartz" crystals, which are both the most valuable thing ever and explode violently if you drop them into the dirt too hard, which explains why the two billionaires fighting over the control of this gold quartz mine until the entire building implodes in an orgy of bad SFX. That orphanage.
Seriously, ultra-valuable electrified quartz crystals. A macguffin that colossally terrible deserves a set of characters to match, and we dare say that the rogue's gallery of villains facing off against the Hulkster fits the bill nicely:
|Name:||Celebrity Resemblance:||Major Personality Flaw:||Weapon of Choice:|
|Ebner Frost||Ed Begley, Jr.||Howard Hughes-like obsession with cleanliness, needs a spacesuit to leave his mansion||Dry-ice cannons peppering his front lawn|
|Dr. Blight||Alan Rickman as Ichabod Crane as Alan Rickman||Has to narrate every combat move with stupid fucking medical jokes||Stethoscope nunchaku, T-Square|
|Dr. Vial||Hella short version of Bryan Cranston||Questionable personal hygiene practices||Fart cannon|
|Dr. Flint||Looks like Buster Bluth||Acts like Buster Bluth||Fights like Buster Bluth|
|Dr. Watt||Too forgettable to have one||Woman||Electrified gloves|
|Dr. Skinny-Sumo-Sama||If Keanu Reeves was playing a sumo instead of a samurai||Wishes he was Japanese, or fat, or had any combat skills at all||Disposable shirt action|
These various kings and queens of overacting get beaten down by Muscle Milk Claus in increasingly embarrassing ways on the road to a happy ending, but we didn't need to tell you any of that. All you need to know is that when Hulkamania (closely related to egomania) runs wild on you, bad things are bound to happen. When Hulkamania runs wild on a Christmas movie, well, let's just say that the original screenwriter sued to have his name removed from the credits. For those of you who have made it to the end of this sordid tale with us, here's a little extra Christmas cheer on the house:
|Music / Sound||-8|
*We've really got to harp on this one. Not only do the assholes supposedly in charge of this shitty orphanage know about the underground tunnel network, their response to being told about it is "Oh yeah, the kids love to go down there and play." Yeah, it's great, we've got the original mummified remains of St. Thomas Aquinas down there, the kids just love using his funeral shroud when they play hide-and-seek. There's a bunch of relics left over from the Spanish Inquisition too, the kids love 'em. Little Johnny likes to put the smaller kids on the rack until they admit to eating boogers, and we just can't keep Cindy out of the iron maiden, bless her little heart. For fuck's sake.
The perfect addition to my living room. The hardy resin exterior is fantastic, because I can just hose it down to remove all the raccoon dung that tends to accumulate.
Now with the sun and the warmth and the generally pleasant atmosphere, you can no longer blame the weather for why you've spent the last sixteen hours sitting inside. You'll need to stay on your toes if you want to stay in your chair.
There's a new Tony Hawk game in town, and it has projectiles. ...?
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