The most ridiculous thing about this ridiculous movie is its conceit that if one becomes a saint, he or she and his or her family and his or her significant other live forever. Let's forget that in order to become a saint, the saint must be dead, and saints don't have significant others. That, for a millennium, Nick has been the Jolly Elf to Fred's Scrooge is never even hinted at! Open on Nick learning how to make toys, then on Fred learning how to run numbers; Nick giving a sick child a dolly, Fred repossessing the dolly, along with the family farm! After a few more such episodes, morph to present-day Fred venting his spleen at Siblings Anonymous as his fellow losers nod in empathy. There, I just wrote a more cohesive storyline than this idiocy!

This Santa, who is one "ho, ho, ho, ho, ho" away from a massive coronary, is a neurotic wuss saddled with the Queen of the Harpies, an operation straight out of Mega-Mall Hell, and answers to a Board (huh?) which just gave the Easter Bunny his pink egg. Oh, and his right-hand man is a ditzy blonde in a skin-tight mini-dress and go-go boots. Ho... ho... ho... ho... ho!

But what really sent me over the edge was Slam being named #1 on the Naughty List. Shouldn't a Naughty List be reserved for the future Hitlers and Stalins? Children who are the true embodiments of evil? Nope, to Old Sausage-Fingers, a good boy who lashes out because he is unwanted and unloved is the Demon Seed!

The nimrods behind Fred Claus should be boiled in their own pudding! Bah!
Would you say this review is positive or negative?
Options: --negative; --positive;
negative