Fred Clause

"I'm playing Santa; drunk, fat, chain-smoking Santa!"

View trailer.

In spite of all the crazy football games this weekend, I have given myself five to ten minutes to write a trailer review for Paul Giamatti's new movie Fred Claus which quickly comes out in about 360 days. Why advertise now? I don't know. My wager is that it was supposed to come out a few weeks ago, but something got fucked up and now Vince Vaughn and Giamatti have to wait a year to promote this truly shit idea. Why don't these guys get choosey? What is the deal with the Lady in the Water, The Break-Up, or Mr. and Mrs. Smith? These movies make me want to take my penis out, put it in an open drawer and slam that drawer shut. Add Fred Claus to the list. Penis hurts.

A fat guy and a drunk guy on the couch? You're Santa's brother? How have you lived forever like Santa, Vince? I mean, he's not 37-years-old like you. Add to my hell capping the trailer off with the last punchline: a wet willy. I mean, seriously. Also, when did Santa and his family go Jewish? These trailer is horrific and I really don't know why they have to re-make Wedding Crashers with Jewish Santas. I will probably see this, but unintentionally. Meaning: I will go out on a drinking-binge the night this movie comes out. I will sit in a seedy, Bukowski-ish bar somewhere in Upstate New York drinking martinis and beers and blood until I black out. I will wake up either hours or days later to the sound of Vince Vaughn. Some douche bag will have left me in some AMC Theater in Malta and I will have to watch this goddamn movie. Why, Vince Vaughn, oh why can't I wake up hungover with you in a serious drama? Or how about a sex scene with you, Anne Hathaway and Ron Howard?! Give it to me, Vince, cause otherwise this is the same shit movie you've made for the last 7 years. Shape up! Do Anne Hathaway.