Yesterday, “Black Friday,” I skipped the first day of shopping-stampede madness and went with two girlfriends to see the box-office splash of the season, “Four Christmases.” Starring Vince Vaughn and Reese Witherspoon, this movie is part of the genre I’ve labeled, “Disgrace-to-Christmas” movies.
“Disgrace-to-Christmas” movies usually have several things in common and have been coming out on cue this time of year for about a decade.
Common Characteristics:
1. clueless box-office stars
2. PC agenda
3. unnatural melding of Christian symbols with anti-Christian pagan humor
The last two seasons brought America “The Family Stone” and “Fred Clause,” which were both perfect fits for the genre.
“The Family Stone” melded sappy, faux sentimentality with the homosexual-rights cause, even producing what must be a first for the number of societal stereotypes in one plot: a gay deaf guy, “married” to a gay black guy, who adopt a black baby to the manipulated gushing of the clueless audience.
“Fred Clause” melded Silent Night with Santa Clause, and the overriding “moral” of the “story” was that all children of all ages are good to their cores and ought never be held accountable for their sins. It may have been written by hippie shrinks, whose motto remains, “If it feels good, do it.”
So, now you’ve a perfect idea of what you’ll see in this year’s tacky flick, “Four Christmases.”
Two ego-centric, semi-adults (Vaughn and Witherspoon) lie every year about being unable to visit family at Christmastime, and take a tropical vacation instead. Viewers get the point early on…every single American family is thoroughly dysfunctional, has no redeeming assets, no genuine faith and can be counted upon — absolutely — to share a “Christmas” celebration thoroughly devoid of anything even remotely resembling love, togetherness or a healing haven from the brutal world in which we live. According to the movie plotters, there isn’t a single family left in America with genuine faith in Christ, much less any who try to live out their faith in deeds. And true to form, everyone but our PC-stars-extraordinaire are afflicted with sexual appetites worthy of alley cats in heat.
The rest of the movie is built upon this faux-foundation and predictably takes the lowest road to the gutter culture in which we now find ourselves. Typically PC, the writers — without the slightest artistic effort — deliver an excessively tawdry excoriation of white rednecks who love babies, modern evangelistic Christians and the nuclear family in one fell swoop. If they were going for the Oscar of Tawdry & Tacky, then this movie is a winner.
I do not believe there was a single black person in the entire movie, save extras. Making fun of black people would not do this year in the newly created Obamaland.
The writers rely on their one, stock, finale redemption: Vaughn & Witherspoon decide that marriage and procreating do not deserve their unreservedly horrible reputation, and give in to Mother Nature, producing an infant of their own.
And all I could think as the lights mercifully came on was, “God have mercy on that child and the society upon which it will one day be turned loose.” The perversions she will be taught by her clueless parents make me thankful the PCers among us procreate in such small numbers.
That’s my take on the “Disgrace-to-Christmas” movie of the year. Can’t wait for next year’s version.