Virgins In Your Stocking! A Carol Christmas

There's a reason why Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol remains the most popular holiday themed novel, local community theater play, and plot outline for sitcoms come every December. It's a brilliantly appealing story that can be applied to any subject in any medium, be that a newspaper comic strip or Halloween Roseanne episode.

 

You start with a villain that demands hatred, say, a man who tosses cute bunny Muppets into the snowy streets of London or an executive that fires a family man on Christmas Eve. We have to DESPISE this person (or animated duck) as much as we pity the poor but kind Bob Cratchit.

Hence, who better to cast in such a role than Tori My Daddy Got Me A Lot Of Work Then Disherinted Me From His Will Spelling, otherwise known (to me, forever) as Donna Martin. A Carol Christmas (get it?) is yet another Hallmark stab at Dickens' novella, and since anyone alive today knows the story, allow me to instead present it by breaking down the character list:

 

Ebenezer Scrooge = Carol Cartman, a talk show hostess in the vein of Ricki Lake (does that reference date me? Does it matter when I'm going to refer to Carol as Donna Martin Graduates for this whole review anyway?) who treats her employees with disdain.

Bob Cratchit = Roberta, Donna Martin Graduates' long-suffering single-mom assistant struggling to balance motherhood with her high maintenance, low paying boss

Tiny Tim = Little Redheaded Girl daughter of Roberta. No limp. No crutch. No accent. No bother.

Nephew Fred = Big sister Lindsey who does that annoying family thing practiced in Holiday In Handcuffs of reading Christmas tales out loud while wearing ugly sweaters

Jacob Marley = Aunt Marla, played by Dinah Manoff (lifelong free pass for Soap and being Chucky's first victim), Donna Martin Graduates' overbearring agent aunt who made sure her niece was always the star, even if it meant swiping the Virgin Mary role from a kid with a dead mom at the annual nativity play

Ghost of Christmas Past = Gary Coleman. And yes: I'm just as angry as you are that he's not playing Tiny Tim.

Ghost of Christmas Present = William Shatne moodily coasting as if the entire shoot was purchased on a Priceline deal that ended up costing way more than advertised with taxes and insurance

Ghost of Christmas Future = A limo driver, not unlike the creepy dude in Burnt Offerings

Ex-(Almost) Fiancee

Tall, good-looking and dull do-gooder who works at homeless shelters (i.e., Karren Allen but less interesting). That being said, he's played by an actor I recall from Days of Lives back in the early 90s and my goodness, the man hasn't aged a day. So bonus points for casting a vampire

If you're being reminded of a much better Christmas Carol-themed comedy about a bigwig TV executive, his neglected sibling, homeless helping ex, and put-upon single mom assistant, I assume you have a working brain. Yes, whoever wrote A Carol Christmas was clearly inspired by Scrooged and no, it's not anywhere near as Solid Gold.

Also, it does that obnoxious Christmas movie-on-a-budget thing by taking place in California, thusly sparing the crew from the hazards/annoyance of fake or real snow. How convenient. And lazy.

 

As far as the movie goes, eh. Tori Spelling has never oozed charisma, and her bitchy career woman shtick never truly captures the nasty spirit we look for in a proper Scrooge. What's worse is her after-the-ghost reaction, which should be bursting with the holiday spirit in a manner that's either joyous (think Michael Caine's soft smiles) or insane (BILL MURRAY WANTS YOU TO SING GODDAMNIT!). As Happy Carol, Donna Martin Graduates smiles a little more, gives her staff a vacation to Hawaii, and raises her assistant's salary while offering her second house free of charge. Oh, and in my favorite character decision of all time, Carol announces that after years of turning down lucrative merchandising opportunities, she will now put her name on whatever clothing or cooking product proposed and donate the proceeds to charity.

I really hope there's a sequel where Carol discovers said goods are made under sweatshop conditions. The Olsen Twins could play the child laborers! It'd be meta!

Instead, we settle for blah humbug.

See what I did there?

 

Lessons Learned

You look pale when you’re dead

 

Pop is the sound of Gary Coleman bursting your bubble

There’s not much work for a middle aged actor who’s too small to be a jockey. That should explain Coleman's career choices (including A Carol Christmas)

 

Montage Mania

Donna and Boy Karen Allen enjoy a foggy courtship complete with wine drinking, picnicking, roller skating, and donating goods to a homeless shelter, all set to country music because how else can a TV movie convey falling in love?

  

Token Slapstick

One of Carol's employees just can't stop dropping things. It's hilarious!

  

Coal or Candy?

A Carol Christmas isn't unwatchable, but I can't think of any reason to watch it when Scrooged is playing on AMC or 90210 reruns exist on youtube. Spelling doesn't embarrass herself, but the movie never commits to its self-aware Hollywooddom, nor does it have the energy to truly be a Scrooge reborn. It is what it is, and while it's probably better than ex-roommate Kelly Taylor's A Christmas Wedding Tail, it's also less hilariously bad, making it just kinda there.

  

I think I need to put a little love in my heart now.

Kids Today and Their Darn Dead Cheerleaders

For the last six months or so, I’ve been living a happy existence free of talking baby ads and Law & Order reruns. LIfe without cable has its downsides--live baseball and awards ceremonies chief among them--but I had successfully convinced myself that Hulu, Netflix, and the good old fashioned salt-of-the-earth books are worth well over a $60 cable bill plus hidden fees and the evil trolls that bicker on the morning news.


That all changed two weeks ago when, unable to hack into insecure wireless networks in my new apartment, the fine people of Cablevision made me a non-contracted offer I couldn’t refuse. Well, thought I, I’ll keep it for baseball season and do my damnest to avoid watching stupidly written sitcoms, whinily acted melodramas, and madmen-inspiring Signals currently and potentially poisoning the digital airwaves.


Fourteen days after C-Day, I stand before you with a review of a TV movie-of-the-week about a dead cheerleader and starring the former princess of TV movies-if-the-week, Kellie Martin called Death of a Cheerleader. Thank you Lifetime.


Quick Plot: High school sophomore Angela (Martin) is dowdily cute and brainy. While this will eventually land her a sweet little NBC contract and an ill-fated screen romance with Noah Wylie, being a good writer and nice girl doesn’t quite cut it at the age of 16--particularly when your principal (Terry O’Quinn, John Locke and The Stepfather himself!) preaches intense competitiveness and a stop-at-nothing attitude to BE THE BEST!

Since this is high school in the mid 90s, “the best” means nothing less than cheerleader, yearbook editor (what?), and Lark (a sort of minor league sorority). Standing in her way is none other than the, according to O’Quinn’s creepily inappropriate authority figure, “the prettiest girl in school,” Stacie Lockwood. Deep into virgin-era Donna Martin, Tori Spelling milks all the hairspray she can out of the snotty and blond Queen Bee. And then, if you didn’t guess, she dies.

See, Angela REALLY wants Stacie to be her friend. After an ill-fated invitation to crash an “older crowd” party, Stacie implies that Angela--already stressed from not making the squad OR the yearbook staff--is no better than the angry goth girl that storms the hallways with a constant scowl. Naturally, a bloodless and awkwardly slo-mo’d stabbing has to occur. How else can Angela get Stacie’s boyfriend and treasurer position with the Larks?

Why am I still talking about this movie? I. Don’t. Know. Maybe it’s because I felt that I needed to stay current. Maybe I wanted to try something different. Or maybe, just maybe, I was too lazy to channel surf or find a DVD but motivated enough to write a review.


High Points
Despite being pretty typical of the TV movie style I can’t really fault any of the performances. Martin is embarrassingly on target as the disturbingly needy Angela and as the lone sympathetic popular girls, a young Marley Shelton stands out.

A Blossum hat is worn with typically awkward sass


Low Points
Just because it’s about teenagers does not mean a film requires a babysitting montage


Lessons Learned
To be a cheerleader in 1994, all you really needed was enough memory to nail four simple arm/leg movements. It makes Marsha Brady look like vintage Paula Abdul

Never impress teenage girls with shoulder length hair and Novas


The girl that constantly shouts “I”m gonna kill you, bitch!” is usually not the girl that killed the bitch


Rent/Bury/Buy
There is absolutely no reason the world we currently live in to watch this movie. Okay, maybe if you have a teenage daughter whose newfound obsession with being a cheerleader is getting a little unnerving, or if your cheerleading daughter has a friend that seems to be harboring an unnerving obsession, or if you just really dig Lifetime movies.


Friends, followers, readers, and robots: I promise this week or weekend to put an actual horror film--not one merely about the hell of high school--on the site. Currently on loan from Netflix is Rumplestilskin, which can’t NOT be good, and Burnt Offerings, whose Bette Davis/Karen Black/Oliver Reed/Burgess Meredith cast makes me happier than Donna Martin graduating.

Vertically Challenged, Morally Bereft

1982’s big budget adaptation of Annie is a fairly disturbing kid film. Daddy Warbucks jokes aside (“I never thought I’d get used to a girl!”) it could have been a brilliant Lynchian surrealist fantasty had the marvelous Carol Burnett been replaced with the maniacal Clara Keller of 1973’s The Sinful Dwarf. Singing out of tune and dancing half clothed, Kelly’s Lila Lash may very well have been the chief inspiration for the eccentric, back alley orphanage mama Miss Hannigan...

except without the nudity, brothel, and son that happens to be a mischieveous little person who enjoys sodomy and the piano.


So that was kind of my way of not starting my review of The Sinful Dwarf by addressing the fact that it’s about a sinful dwarf. And a lot of sex, nearly all of it forced onto drugged up naked women. But hey, at least there’s two gleefully tone deaf musical numbers! (This is turning out to be much more like Annie the more I think about it.)


Quick Plot: While playing hopscotch like any twentysomething dressed like a little girl, a young woman meets the lecherously limping Orlaf (child actor-turned-porn star Torbin Billie). With promises of a toy collection and a Jack Nicholson smile, the hobbling dwarf lures her into heroin-addled white slavery run out of a the shabby hotel he runs with Lila Lash, his boozy floozy of a mother. Meanwhile, a comely young couple arrives to rent a room. While Peter, the husband, spends his day trying to peddle a few manuscripts, his daft wife (Anne Sparrow) lounges around and complains about everything. Occasionally, they have sex and we (and Orlaf) get to watch.

The bra & brainless Sparrow is clearly a temptation for Orlaf and of use to Lila, who’s in need of a pretty blond to replace a fair-haired prostitute that’s become a tad too reliant on the heroin Orlaf administers to dull the pain of, you know, being held captive by a flannel-wearing dwarf and forced to have rough sex with S&M enthusiastic johns. Needless to say, Orlaf gets his alone time with his houseguest. The results are just wrong.

High Points
A strong credit sequence features an array of strange little toys, setting an eerie and surreal mood early on

If an Oscar was ever given for Best Performance By a Mechanical Poodle, the final shot should have clinched it


There is a cheerfully macabre Bette Davis feel to Clara Keller’s weird and wonderful (and yet not very good) performance. Some may find it grating and tacky; as a person whose favorite Halloween of all time was spent dressed as Faye Dunaway’s Joan Crawford, it made me smile

Low Points
You know how, if you’re in a particularly sour, cynical, and airhead-hating mood, Mia Farrow’s Rosemary is kind of a drag? Sparrow’s Mary makes Mrs. Woodhouse look like Sarah Connnor


A heroin dealer named Santa Claus smuggles drugs with the help of a dwarf and homemade teddy bears. Which is awesome. You know what’s not? He’s not an interesting character


Lessons Learned
Toy police cars are great reminders about who to go to when you fear for your wife’s life


When you’re fairly poor and have nothing to do all day but investigate strange noises in a creepy hotel that makes you uncomfortable, it’s probably time to just get a fucking job

Danish police officers trust the general public to do the dirty work for them


If you feel like you’re being watched, perhaps you should wear a bra under a tight white sweater


Rent/Bury/Buy
The Sinful Dwarf is exploitation at its wackiest, rich in gratuitous nudity, graphic rapes, and scored to a porn-rock soundtrack. Whether that’s a good thing depends on your filmgoing tastes. Let’s face it: you know, based on the title, if you want to watch this film. As far as ownership goes, the newly released DVD is fairly scant on extras, but does include a very entertaining short about two video nerds being mentally abused by Orlaf’s adventures. If you’ve ever wanted to watch a bizarre little pervert sodomize a Tori Spelling lookalike, then this is, in all probability, the only movie for you.


For now.