Santa With Muscles is a real movie (it was even in theaters) starring Hulk Hogan as a super-rich guy named Blake Thorn who gets amnesia and wakes up believing he is the real Santa Claus. He soon finds himself fighting a group of evil scientists led by Ed Begley Jr., yes Ed Begley Jr., that are attempting to take over an orphanage which is built over a cavern containing magic energy-charged crystals.
I repeat: This is a real movie.
Let’s go over this one more time:
- Santa With Muscles is the name of an actual movie. (I can’t stress this enough.)
- Hulk Hogan gets amnesia and thinks he’s Santa Claus.
- Ed Begley Jr. is the villain that wants to ruin Christmas for an orphanage because he wants to steal crystals .
Ruth’s Rule Number One: Do not watch this movie.
If you are familiar with my reviews on this site, you’re aware that I have a penchant for bad movies. I almost prefer them to good movies. Tell me how wonderful a movie is, I’ll say “Oh cool, I’ll be sure to check it out.” Tell me how awful a movie is and I’ll drop everything and seek it out that night. Of course I love the really “great” ones, but I also try and usually am able to find at least one enjoyable thing in those more difficult to get through shitfests. I stick it out. I go the distance. I don’t think I’ve ever not finished watching a movie all the way through in my whole life.
Santa With Muscles tested my fortitude.
I don’t even know where to begin. I could sum up my feelings on this one by simply typing “ALL THE BEERS—EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS MESS IS UNWATCHABLE!!!” and that would be the end of this review. But I know at least one person would not believe me, even with my extremely high threshold for dreadful movies (I legitimately enjoyed Manos, The Hands of Fate). So for you, person that thinks they can out bad-movie me, this is my attempt to save you 90 minutes of your precious time that would be better spent draining your dog’s anal glands and/or watching your toenails grow.
Haaangin’ out….in a crappy mov-iiiee…
We get a fun little That 70’s Show preunion with a tween Mila Kunis and Don Stark, better known as Donna’s dad. It’s too bad we didn’t also get a pre-douche Ashton Kutcher to complete the trifecta, but that’s impossible because 1) Ashton Kutcher is not in this movie and 2) Ashton Kutcher has most likely always been a douche.
That’s really all I’ve got for a toast for this one.
Let’s begin with the premise. It sure sounds like it has all the makings of a cult-worthy Christmas classic. Hulk Hogan, still close enough to his Say your prayers and eat your vitamins glory days and far away enough from, well pretty much everything he’s been involved with in the last decade, as some kind of a health product tycoon cajillionaire that bumps his head and believes he’s Santa Claus. Sure, why not? That’s actually a pretty decent concept. But like many other pretty decent concepts, it all falls apart in the execution.
The plot is so muddled it barely makes sense. Scratch that, it makes no sense at all. But then, this is a result of the script being changed so much that one of the original writers sued to get his named removed from the film. The writers that kept this one on their resumes as their only writing credit are Jonathan Bond (also an actor whose biggest role was “Water Slide Attendant” in Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, which I’m sure is what he leads with when introducing himself to people) and Fred Mata (he’s an actor too, but was never anything as cool as “Water Slide Attendant” in Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure).
From the very beginning of the movie, it’s unclear what is going on. It starts with Hulk fighting his own staff for fun. Then they have a paintball game. Then Hulk, I should really be calling him Blake I guess, gets popped for speeding and instead of just pulling over, proceeds to shoot his paintball gun at the cops and provoke them into a high speed chase. The police then begin firing their real guns back at him. Keep in mind, this guy Blake is a high-powered multi-millionaire, which makes this even more stupid, if that’s possible. So Blake jumps out of his moving car and runs into a nearby mall to hide, finds a Santa suit, changes into it, jumps into a garbage chute, bangs his head and gets amnesia. And this is all just a setup for more idiocy to come.
Blake is convinced he is Santa by an opportunistic mall elf (Don Stark) who thinks he’ll somehow profit off this. Blake then feels called to save an orphanage which contains only three children from Ed Begley Jr. and his band of cartoonish bad guys. As I mentioned earlier, they want to gain access of special crystals that exist in the catacombs under the orphanage/church. Yes, catacombs. It’s where the kids like to play.
Do I need to go on?
The main child character, Elizabeth (Aria Noelle Curzon) is the real-life version of the exaggerated Cindy Brady spoof from the Brady Bunch movies. I thought it was the same actress at first, but it’s not. I guess she’s meant to be precocious and adorable, but she’s grating and will make people never want to have children ever.
Just when this kid couldn’t get any more annoying, she sings. The song is a wretched little ditty called “Angel Baby.” And then, it manages to get even worse when Hulk Hogan joins in.
Here to perform “Angel Baby” for your entertainment, I present YouTube user, “shlorbit”:[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BY5vxvp_xTg?feature=player_detailpage]
Trust me, that rendition is a million times better than the one in the movie.
The police in this movie are depicted as the bad guys (for comic hilarity of course) when they are in fact just trying to do their jobs. Jobs which duties include protecting motorists from insane speeding steroid-abusers shooting paintball guns into traffic. Surely another one of theses duties would be protecting orphans from criminals attempting to take over their home. But no one in the orphanage including two adults entrusted to care for these children thinks to call upon them. No, their only hope is said insane steroid-abuser.
Personally, I would rather go with the cops, especially since they inexplicably carry rocket launchers.
By the way, the bumbling head cop is played by Clint Howard.
You are too good for this lump of coal Clint Howard!
Movie amnesia works like this: a person hits their head and loses all their memories. They hit it again three quarters into the movie and regain it.
In Santa With Muscles, Blake hits his head again the very next day and though remembering who he is, somehow manages to forget his entire childhood. The reason for this is of course, yet another inane and unnecessary plot twist.
Santa With Muscles has all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile. Given the choice between the two, I’d take the seasick crocodile. Stink. Stank. Stunk.
Really people, don’t let your curiosity get the best of you, this movie is terrible. Not “ha ha, it’s so bad” kind of terrible, just plain terrible. It’s not intentionally funny. It’s not unintentionally funny. It’s. Just. Not. Funny. It’s also not cute, nostalgic, or worthwhile in any way, shape, or form. I don’t care how big of a Hulkamanic you are. This movie will ruin Christmas so badly for a person that they will need to watch a marathon of Santa Claus Conquers the Martians, The Nutcracker in 3D, and The Star Wars Christmas Special, to get the warm, fuzzy holiday feeling back.
I’d even go as far to say that this is a better Hulk Hogan film. It will scorch your retinas, but at least it’s a hell of a lot shorter.
What I’m trying to say is, AVOID AT ALL COSTS, Brother.
Drinking Game (Recommended cocktail: Eggnog with a splash of arsenic)
Take a Drink: every time someone attacks Hulk Hogan with a Styrofoam candy cane.
Take a Drink: every time Hulk complains that his picture on a can of protein powder is not big enough.
Take a Drink: every time Hulk mentions one of his numbered rules. (If you were paying attention, you wouldn’t have gotten to this point because you would have followed my one and only rule: “Do Not Watch This Movie.”)
Take a Drink: every time a character actually uses the term “Santa with muscles.”
Take a Drink: every time Cindy Brady opens her annoying devil mouth. Take two when she sings. Take three when Hulk joins in.
Take a Drink: when you wonder why the ATM machines ask for fingerprint identification.
Take a Drink: every time a crystal explodes.
Do a Shot: “Santa, you sleigh me.”
Finish the Bottle: when it’s over and you regret wasting your time. I told you so.