Red One opens with a generic Santa Anthem. The one where he’s coming down the middle of some eponymous lane; while Amazon, Warner Brothers, and Dwayne Johnson’s Seven Bucks Productions logos clog our eyeholes. Done with all that unnecessary information, but with the same soundtrack, we open back in time. A teenage boy shows his cousins where all the presents are hidden as the family Christmas party unfolds downstairs. He doesn’t believe in Santa, and, like any good jerk worth his salt, wants to fuck everyone else’s dreams.
Unsurprisingly, I’m on team jerk. One, where I come from, Baby Jesus brings the presents; two, I went with my parents to buy the shit I opened on December 25th. We also open stuff at midnight. In that party place everything starts at midnight.
Some uncle (’cause his dad ain’t around) discovers our antihero, sends the cousins away, and they have an asinine conversation. My extensive vocabulary used that A-word, but it’s just another uninspired cliché conversation about the virtues of the holiday spirit; also lots of shoddy foreshadowing. Been there done that since some mofo decided to use film for propaganda.
That little shithead is Jack O’Malley, who grows to be played by Chris Evans as an even bigger shithead hacker/finder. Now, my boy Chris is at his best when he plays jerks, and he cranks that shit up here. His “Captain” might be America’s ass, but he’s my number one asshole.
RED ONE IS A MATRYOSHKA DOLL HAND-PAINTED BY A SIX-YEAR-OLD, USING BORROWED CRAYONS FROM BETTER MOVIES. EACH INNER LAYER MORE ERRATIC AND CONVOLUTED THAN THE PREVIOUS.
A time card informs us we’ve jumped thirty years. We discover Jack in an about four-minute sequence of shenanigans; not only to show his personality, but his ability to create mayhem to reach his goals. His moral character shines through when at the end he steals candy from a baby.
Because this is an unoriginal rehash of other holiday installments we find ourselves in a mall after that. We saw a person playing an asshole; we were about to see an asshole trying to play a person. Sorry, I mean, we come face to face with Callum “Cal” Drift, stone-facedly performed by The Rock. Cal is running security for the mall’s Santa. If you saw the trailers. Wait. You obviously did because why else would you even entertain this movie? So, you know, the mall Santa is the real Santa (J.K. Simmons).
More than misdirection, it’s another clumsy attempt to showcase stuff in the laziest way possible; like people being awful and hateful with each other as holiday music plays in the background. We even get an idiot cutting the line to Santa, trying to do a live-stream and force his merch on St. Nick. Warm-Pebble-Dwayne-Austin steps up to neutralize the intruder.
Moron removed, Stone-Cal-Johnson, touches fists with the cut kids to end the excruciating moment. Long story short, Nick does this every year; just to feel that fuzzy human excitement for the holidays a few days before the big night. There’s a silly gag of Cal intercepting food and sniffing it before allowing Santa to eat it, and the more it happens the stupider it gets. Santa’s exit from the mall also introduces one of the biggest problems of the movie.
RED ONE DOESN’T KNOW IF IT WANTS TO BE AN ACTION COMEDY DIPPED IN WARM APPLE CIDER, A HALLMARK MOVIE OVERRUN BY SCI-FI ZOMBIES, OR AN “I’M TOO OLD FOR THIS SHIT” DITTY.
For reasons that the movie will try to flesh through its runtime, Cal is retiring the day after Christmas. His motive is unconvincing at best and pure plot convenience at worst. The writers thought mentioning something a lot and then reaching a conclusion using that over-mentioned stuff produces proper foreshadowing/resolution. They swear they’ve planted enough seeds to have a beautiful winter garden at the end. Nothing is further from the truth. But we’ll explore that delusion further down this fukken snowy road. Trust me.
From the get-go, the viewer realizes the mythical world isn’t hidden from the globe’s governments– just from the average citizen. There’s an abundance of gadgets and technology in this movie that makes you think of Mission Impossible instead of The Santa Clause. This could be a good thing; even an interesting thing. Alas, it’s not explained/shown enough to make it a natural/logical part of the equation.
Most people know Santa’s sleigh is drawn by reindeer. When we meet the massive beasts pulling our boy Nick’s clunker, he refers to them as “girls.” Male deer are the ones with antlers; thus, I almost called shenanigans, but the reindeer group has its own quirks. And yes, according to old accounts Santa’s reindeer are female, but in reality are probably just castrated males to make them more docile; which can still take you down certain rabbit holes in 202-fucking-4. Besides, all that was just to toss in passing that Cal was the reindeer’s boyfriend… do with that information as you please.
WE’VE SEEN MANY INTERPRETATIONS OF HOW SANTA’S HEADQUARTERS/FACTORY/COMPOUND IS SUPPOSED TO LOOK AFTER YEARS OF TECHNOLOGICAL EVOLUTION. THIS ISN’T THE WORST, BUT IT DOESN’T BRING ANYTHING NEW TO THE TABLE EITHER.
We arrive at the North Pole and encounter a plethora of lifeforms that are supposed to produce awe and perhaps a giggle or two thanks to their whimsical appearance. The only thing that got from me was a resounding meh. Mrs. Claus reminded me of a librarian (sadly not the sexy kind), and, through the whole movie, Nick is basically disheveled and visually smelly. He’s neither regal nor jolly, perhaps thanks to some misguided idea to make him some gritty man of the people.
According to the movie’s own lore, the dude’s some mythical being who can lift an insane amount of weight but has no visible muscle mass and looks haggard on a good day. Flabby Santa Simmons looks ridiculous when that bolder passing as a sentient being, sorry, I mean, Cal, spots him. Whoever directed this (won’t bother looking it up) appears incapable of realizing it in their desperation to pad the runtime.
Meanwhile, whatever shit Jack acquired during his introduction leads a group of individuals to the Wakanda-impersonator dome protecting Nick’s territory. And these mask-wearing fur-clad clowns use a laser-something to open it, adding more technological bullshit to what should be magic. This ain’t fukken Asgard.
Plot conveniences make Cal realize something is wrong and rush to find Santa. A chase ensues. If you have seen any other sci-fi chase, you’ve seen this. With Number One abducted, we turn to a command center where we’re introduced to Zoe (mommy Lucy Liu). Wherever the fook she was, she was alerted of the situation. How and Why? F- You for asking logical questions. Zoe, head of M.O.R.A., and Cal spout the standard dramatic lines for this clock-ticking situation plus techno-babble. Magically (note the sarcasm), Zoe’s side uncovers Jack as the origin of the snafu.
THE INTRODUCTION OF M.O.R.A. (MYTHOLOGICAL OVERSIGHT AND RESTORATION AUTHORITY) FLOODS RED ONE WITH THE AWFUL STANK OF FRANCHISE ATTEMPT. GOOD LUCK WITH THAT.
Since the “good guys” know who fucked shit up, we go back to Jack. This effing mismatch-of-clichés product throws family drama into the Arena, aiming for a cute resolution at the end; it only adds more plot-craters and Hollywood’s questionable morals. Jack’s son, who happens to be played by Jimmy Kimmel’s nephew, did some shit in school. Baby momma can’t pick him up, so she enlists Jack for that forced-drama scene. Later on, we learn that this woman has a husband, who actually raised the son. But, remember, the kid needs daddy issues to create that cute resolution at the end.
At least, it’s a son and not one of those bitchy teenage daughters Tinsel Town loves so much. Now that I think about it, most Christmas movies involving kids have boys in the forefront. I wonder why. Nevertheless, child/teenage actors tend to be a crapshoot, and young Kimmel is no exception. Probably, the character was meant to be annoying; perhaps, the little dude’s abilities can’t go further than being annoying. Still, he’s less irksome than Stone-face Dwayne, so that’s something.
Son handled, M.O.R.A. shows up, and we get that action scene from the trailer. The Winter Soldier (2014) is remixed with every other one of those. But I do like the immobilizing tasers; a few times, the movie does something interesting, just not enough to erase all the other shit in our way. A bunch of bleh-lore-info-dumps later, we find our main dudes, Cal and Jack, in Aruba via the toy store closet. Wow, that sentence has a lot of weird implications out of context.
WE DON’T RECEIVE ALL THE MOVIE’S LORE VIA INFO-DUMP, BUT IT’S A LOT, AND RED ONE DOESN’T REALLY DO MUCH WITH THIS ABUNDANCE OF CHARACTERS’ BACKSTORIES.
At some point between M.O.R.A. and Aruba, the film cuts to the villain, Gryla (Kiernan Shipka). The Ogre Witch tells Santa her reasons for abducting him because of course she does. A villain’s true strength is their reasoning for villainous acts; Gryla wants to make the world a better place, using Santa’s Naughty List to know who deserves punishment. A fabulous concept, but the film literally screws the metaphorical pooch with its askew sense of right and wrong.
Gryla wields a Voldemort-esque trick; she can track (and scare the fuck out of) you if you say her name. Obviously, super smart and uncatchable legend Jack is the one to blurt the effing tabooed name. Clearly to incite more action scenes in this unbearable cinematographic fetch quest. And, you know what’s coming, don’t yah? Our heroes evade snow-henchmen in the stupidest way because lazy writing tends to give monsters ridonkulous Achilles’ heels. Hooray.
More plot-craters open as technology tracks magic, and the boring set-jumping dumps us in Krampus Krackhouse/Kastle. We’re smeared with medieval fantasy clichés galore. I haven’t seen this diabolical stitching of cinema’s putrid body parts in a minute. No. Wait. Zack Snyder’s Rebel Moon Saga. Fuck me, these people have no imagination. Someone gave these fukkos a paint-by-numbers drawing and they still botched the final image. Yeah. I’m done.
ONE MIGHT SAY RED ONE TRIED, BUT IN THE WORDS OF AN ACTUAL FUKKEN LEGEND, “DO OR DO NOT, THERE IS NO TRY.” SHIT. I MISS DECENT SCREENWRITING.
The worst thing any new film can do is to feel like you’ve watched it a thousand times before. And not because you enjoy it so much it becomes your comfort movie; but because every TV channel/streaming service/social media outlet keeps thrusting its flaccidness to your face.
We know there’s nothing truly new under the sun; it’s the choices you make when presenting a story. There are a lot of poor choices in this film. The tone, intention, genre, and flow are so muddled is not even funny. The absurd lack of originality cannot be disguised with a few flashes of inspiration here and there; especially when you give most of them away in the uncle-screwing trailer!
Is Chris Evans’ character named Jack to give him a whimsical whiff of Jack-Frost-ery? Why in the fuckity fuck a polar bear (mind you, the only polar bear visible in the story) would have Garcia as a last name? Is Johnson’s former wife and head of Seven Bucks Production, Dany Garcia, doing a self-insert there? How Lucas Film of her if that’s the case. Why does Santa Claus look like a hobo on crack while delivering presents?
Holiday spirit: Zero. Action: Nada. Sci-fi imagination: Zilch. Heart: the fook is that? If you must watch this shitty content, wait till it’s on streaming. 5 out of 10.
Red One is in theaters on November 15th.