Alright, let’s face the facts. This movie probably never should have been made. Yet, somehow, this movie was spawned into existence from the same mind behind Apollo 13 and A Beautiful Mind. Why Ron Howard chose to direct this piece of filth is an unanswerable question, and now humanity is forced to endure this mockery of Dr. Seuss. Starring Jim Carrey as the eponymous Grinch, How The Grinch Stole Christmas is an unfortunate creation, and it’s my pleasure to tear it to shreds.
I suppose credit must be given where it is due, and several aspects of the film are not as abominable as the film as a whole. The soothing narration provided by Anthony Hopkins emulates the rhyme and tone that Dr. Seuss’ book puts forth. And as infrequent as his interjections are, they never fail to, momentarily, evoke nostalgia for the classic animated version of Seuss’ quintessential book.
And I do give Howard credit for admirably attempting to bring to life the imaginative drawings of Dr. Seuss. He chose an aesthetic and he sticks to it. Unfortunately, this aesthetic can best be described as “Christmas-steampunk.”
And so it begins. The rippin’ and the tearin’, the rippin’ and the tearin’.
At least the film gives us get a preview of her blossoming music career. Although I don’t think anyone could have predicted that she would have gone from singing “Where Are You Christmas?” to fronting an alternative punk band with songs like “Make Me Wanna Die” and “Hit Me Like A Man.” Nothing in her performance indicates her future zest for masochism.
|All I want for Christmas is a whip and a Marilyn Manson CD|
The makeup is totally overdone, enough to distract the viewer from the film’s intricate set which is actually pretty impressive and representative of the sinuous and frivolous illustrations in Seuss’ classic. Instead, the viewer focuses on the unsightly snouts, and figuring out whether or not Christine Baranski and Molly Shannon are wearing them.
Now, onto his Grinchiness himself.
Jim Carrey performs with his usual flamboyance and elasticity, yet somehow when combined with a fully-body suit of green fur, these qualities reveal how much Carrey overacts. Every move he makes is bigger and broader than it needs to be. It kinda makes you wanna punch him in the teeth.
In any other film, Carrey’s try-hard nature would be combatted by his genuine sense of humour. In Grinch, however, the only thing more distracting than Carrey’s excessive exuberance is his costume, which basically makes him look like the Phillie Phanatic’s meth-head cousin. Complete with a beer belly and a faux-hawk to make The Situation proud, Carrey’s Grinch is totally disgusting, which may be the point. But for some reason, Ron Howard decided to make the Grinch completely naked, a very questionable move for a kids movie. Although, at least he had the decency to cover any would-be gonads with a mat of straggly green pubes.
|“Oh pardon me Ron, I don’t want a ruckus|
But I think that I’m showing my grickily gructus”
|This must be the mold they were talking about in “All Star”|
While this film was a commercial success, and representative of the hyper-futuristic modes of the turn of the millenium, its a lackluster attempt at capturing Dr. Seuss’ visual creativity and literary genius in live action, which proves to be an impossible task. You would think Hollywood would have learned from this, so don’t ask me why The Cat in the Hat was ever made either. Yuck.
Take a Drink: every time the Grinch is disgusted by his Christmas cheer
Take a Drink: every time the Grinch does a creepy smile
Take a Drink: during “You’re A Mean One, Mr. Grinch” – you’ll need it
Take a Drink: any time there’s a montage of close-ups on faces laughing/eating/smiling
Take a Drink: for Max, because he dealt with all the Grinch’s shit
Finish your Drink: when the Grinch becomes jolly. Fuck happy endings.