December 17, 2024 • 37 mins
In the second installment of Shelf Christmas-ism, Stephen dives headfirst into the sugar-coated world of Elf (2003). Does Will Ferrell’s relentless enthusiasm and Buddy’s saccharine innocence melt Stephen’s frosty exterior? (Spoiler: Nope.) Along the way, we explore forced perspective, syrup-drenched humor, and why Zooey Deschanel’s voice is a gift to humankind. Stick around for critiques, trivia, and Stephen’s attempt to figure out why Elf is considered a modern Christmas classic. Plus, in this episode’s Shelfless Endeavors, Stephen shares his snap review of The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim—a film that proves Middle Earth doesn’t always strike gold.
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Episode Transcript
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(00:00):
I've been in New York thousands of times.
(00:02):
Really?
What's it like?
Well, there are some things you should know.
First off, you see gum on the street, leave it there.
It's not free candy.
Second, there are like 30 raised pizzas.
They all claim to be the original,
but the real one's on 11th.
And if you see a sign that says peep show,
(00:24):
that doesn't mean that they're letting you look
at presents before Christmas.
Welcome to Shelf Criticism.
Meet your host, Stephen, a scholar of literature
(00:46):
and film by day, and by night, a cinematic archaeologist
with a penchant for everything from art house to popular
to outright trash cinema.
Over the past quarter century, Stephen
has amassed an eclectic DVD collection,
now occupying five shells of a Curia cabinet
in his living room.
Each week, he bravely selects one of these titles to dissect.
(01:08):
Join him as he unearths everything from obscure gems
to cinematic missteps.
From blockbuster hits to forgotten flops,
each film gets the critical once over it probably
doesn't deserve, but will absolutely receive.
So grab your popcorn and settle in.
It's time to dive into the diverse world of Shelf
Criticism.
(01:35):
Welcome to the second episode of season two,
as well as the second installment of Shelf Christmasism.
For those of you who missed the last episode,
go listen to it first.
I joke, of course.
Podcasts are wonderful in that way, aren't they?
You can pick up, choose, listen out of order.
But seriously, before or after, also
listen to my take on the holiday.
You'll like it.
If you've already listened, you know
(01:55):
I'm trying to tackle as many Christmas films on my DVD
shelf as possible before the big day.
Thankfully, there are precious few.
You see, I don't hate Christmas.
It just ranks pretty low on my list.
I don't pine for it year round or leap into action
as soon as November rolls around, prematurely putting up
decorations.
Honestly, I haven't put up a tree since 2020.
With my kid growing and living eight hours away
(02:16):
and my wife no longer with us, sadly,
the only ones left to appreciate it would be me
and the cats, who would shred it to ribbons.
So I opt out.
Now, as you know, I wasn't a fan of the holiday.
But today's offering is different.
From what I've heard, it's become a modern Christmas
staple, sitting alongside It's a Wonderful Life,
A Christmas Story, and Die Hard, and the upper echelon
of holiday classics.
Beloved by old and young alike, it supposedly
(02:38):
strikes that perfect balance of childlike wonder
with just enough sly adult humor for the over-20 crowd.
Families make it a tradition, watching it every year.
It must be charming, interesting, and compelling.
Surely, surely I was going to like this one.
Well, apparently I'm dead inside.
Or maybe I just prefer my films without gallons of maple
syrup dripping from every frame.
(02:59):
I'm almost afraid to do this.
If I had any sense, I'd back out now
and grab Christmas vacation from the curio instead.
But here we go.
Today's shelf pick is the 2003 Elf.
The DVD front has a sky blue background
with an urban skyline done in the simplistic cartoony style,
the same as the North Pole is portrayed in the film.
In the foreground, we have the title Elf, lowercase e,
(03:21):
with Farrell and full buddy get up standing in the middle
to form the L. The other two letters
have the same decorative gold trim as his tunic coat, which
is a nice stylistic touch.
At the top, we have Will Farrell built in bright red letters,
followed by the smaller with James Khan in black lettering.
On the DVD back, we have the following synopsis.
Before I read it, anyone want to check Vegas for the over
(03:42):
under on how long it'll take me to criticize
grammar punctuation?
Once upon a Christmas Eve, an orphan baby
crawled into Santa's bag of gifts
and was taken to the North Pole.
Raised by Papa Elf, Bob Newhart, Buddy, Will Farrell,
comes to realize he doesn't fit in with the other elves.
Determined to find a place where he belongs,
Buddy searches for his real dad in New York City.
(04:05):
Incidentally, I don't love the M dash between dad
and in New York City, but it's meant for emphasis
and to add a more lengthy pause to build suspense,
so I suppose I'll allow it.
In the Big Apple, Buddy finds out
why his dad, James Khan, is on the naughty list.
But most importantly, he sees that the world
is seriously lacking in Christmas spirit,
which causes Santa all kinds of problems.
(04:26):
So with the help of a beautiful department store elf,
Zoe Deschanel, Buddy tries to teach his dad
and the world the true meaning of Christmas spirit
and to prove to everyone that Santa, Ed Asner,
really exists.
Oh my, not a single snide remark about the cover copies
writing or punctuation.
Maybe there is one that's actually decently written.
(04:47):
Or maybe I'm just holding off on my grumbling
for the film itself.
Beneath this, we have two pictures in the upper left corner,
one of Buddy and Santa speaking
and one of Buddy asleep in the Gimbals display window
as James Khan looks on disapprovingly.
Beneath them is a larger picture of Buddy
sitting in his desk at school,
looming large over the other elves
and looking a whole lot like a 30-something
instead of someone in grade school.
(05:08):
The special features include commentaries
by Will Ferrell and director John Favreau,
deleted alternative scenes, behind the scenes,
music from Elf, fun and games and more.
I didn't try a single special feature and I'm not going to.
I want nothing else to do with this film
once I finish this podcast.
So how I came to own it.
My son was six years old I think when this film came out.
(05:30):
I'm pretty sure if you had a child around that age,
you were legally required to own this DVD.
I don't think I personally bought it.
Probably got it for Christmas the next year or something.
I have no idea how I managed to avoid ever seeing it.
Seems like at some point during all the holiday madness
in the 21 years since its release,
I'd have been forced to watch it,
whether breaking out the DVD for a family movie night
or stumbling across it on cable.
(05:51):
But as I mentioned last episode
during my reference to Whammageddon,
I seem to have a knack for dodging unwanted brushes
with holiday fare.
The one thing I've never managed to avoid of course
is that blasted Mariah Carey song.
I swear it's even more ubiquitous than last Christmas.
This whole situation reminded me of my experience
with Moby Dick.
Just bear with me.
Back in grad school we played a drinking game
called I've Never Read.
(06:12):
The rules were simple.
Someone named a book that everyone getting a master's
in literature should have already read but hadn't.
And everyone who had read it
was punished by having to take a drink.
Everyone knew I was holding the white whale
for the right moment.
And when I finally said it,
every person around me had to take a shot.
Even as my academic focus became animal attack fiction,
I resisted reading it.
Wasn't until about five Christmases ago actually
(06:33):
when my dad gifted me with a beautiful
Norton critical edition of Melville's opus,
I finally caved in and read it.
It took me four months to finish, but I did it.
I can appreciate its brilliance and craftsmanship,
but the only Moby Dick I plan on revisiting
is the instrumental on Led Zeppelin II.
And let's be honest,
that version has a much better drum solo.
And that brings me back to Elf.
Avoiding it for this long feels just as improbable
(06:54):
as avoiding Moby Dick.
How did I manage to dodge it for two decades?
Well, not like it matters now.
I've finally seen it.
And well, I've lost my Elf virginity.
Man, that sounded a lot worse than I meant it.
I understood why Moby Dick was revered.
At least.
And I'd reread it a dozen times
before sitting through 90 minutes of Elf again.
But hey, let's see if the critics are on my side.
(07:16):
Critic reception.
They are in fact not on my side.
Those pesky critics.
On Rotten Tomatoes, the film holds an 86%
on the tomato meter.
I always wonder if it's tomato meter or tomatometer.
Tomatometer?
Whatever.
Metacritic knocks it down a couple of pegs,
but it still scores a respectable 66.
The popcorn meter, Rotten Tomatoes user review,
(07:38):
drops it slightly to 78%
while Metacritic users are mostly consistent,
rating it at a 7.4.
Apparently, I am indeed dead inside.
Writing for Vulture, Peter Rayner offers
what I think is a fair assessment.
Quote, I was looking forward to something
a tad more satirical than this Hallmark card of a movie,
which plugs innocence and goodness
like they're going out of style.
(07:58):
This was some 11 years before the Hallmark channel
became a thing, but it's strangely prescient
that he thought of the greeting cards
from the company that would eventually become
the incessant tinsel tinge treacle
oozing from their network.
Elf doesn't quite sink to that shallow and saccharine level,
but it does have a similar syrupy cookie cutter
full wholesome feel, or so I assume,
(08:19):
as I've never actually seen a Hallmark Christmas movie.
Like ever hearing Last Christmas Again,
that's an experience I don't plan on having.
To be fair, I need to take a step back
and do a little self-assessment
alongside my shelf assessment.
Is my heart two sizes too small?
When it comes to holiday films,
the one I enjoy tend to be non-traditional, as they call it.
Die Hard, Gremlins, Black Christmas,
the 1974 original, mind you, not those abominable remakes.
(08:42):
Of what we might call
a quote unquote traditional Christmas fair,
I guess I'm left with mostly Christmas vacation,
which is mostly a reverent
with a few genuine moments of heart,
and a Christmas story,
which leans a bit more into the earnestness,
but still delivers plenty of leg lamp shaped irreverence.
So is my aversion to Elf
because it's utterly devoid of cynicism?
It's perfectly innocent, never daring to poke,
(09:03):
however slightly, at the less than desirable parts
of this holiday, and let's face it, there are a few.
Instead, it blindly, full-throatedly warbles
about the magic, the nostalgia,
the wholesomeness of the season.
Like, literally.
Case in point, the film's climax,
Zooey Deschanel bellows out Santa Claus is coming to town
while standing on a trailer in front of Central Park.
So is that the problem?
(09:23):
Does my grinchy sardonic soul simply recoil
at its unflinching earnestness?
Well, that quality seems to be a large part
of why Roger frickin' Ebert, of all people,
gave Elf three out of four stars,
eagerly celebrating its heart.
He also claims the film has, quote,
a brain and a wicked sense of humor,
and it charms the socks right off the mantelpiece.
Aside from blowing parallelism
(09:43):
like an inept freshman's rough draft,
what are the odds I'd critique Ebert's writing,
of all things?
I wholeheartedly disagree.
This film has all the brains of the scarecrow
before the wizard handed him a diploma.
Humor?
I chuckled maybe two, three times at best.
Most of it was just loud and obnoxious.
And as for my socks, Mr. Ebert,
they're still firmly on my feet,
not the mantle, because remember,
(10:04):
I don't decorate for Christmas.
For the deep dive into a critic, however,
I thought I'd look at another positive review.
Kenneth Turan of Los Angeles Times
has an article entitled, Elf Has the Magic Touch.
He begins, Elf is an example of the good things
that can happen when hipsters do it on the square.
Is that dadaism?
All those words are in the English language, I guess.
(10:24):
It's just the order they're in is baffling.
I think what he's trying to get at
is that it's done unironically.
But can you be a hipster and not embrace irony?
Anyhow, his next sentence,
the fable of what transpires
when a young man raised by elves
goes back to investigate his human roots,
it manages to be both genuinely sweet
and just a teensy bit wised up.
(10:45):
Wised up?
How old is this dude?
Is he deliberately talking like Peter Lorre
in a 40s gangster flick?
Again, I think the translation here
is that the film is intelligent,
something Ebert also contended
and something that I wholeheartedly disagree with.
Mentioning the direction, Turan states,
directed by Jon Favreau from a script by David Berenbaum,
Elf returns to the hip but warm-hearted spirit of swingers,
(11:07):
which Favreau both wrote and starred in.
It brings sophisticated glee and a sense of innocent fun
to what could have been
a more abundant traditional family film.
Ah, suddenly the hipster quip makes sense.
Both the mentioned swingers and maid, Favreau's early oeuvre,
certainly give off some hipster vibes.
I think Turan is suggesting here
some of the same style of Favreau is on display,
(11:28):
songs irony and acidity.
I have to admit, I was a little surprised
when I saw that Favreau directed this.
Then again, his past work behind the camera
after Iron Man, Iron Man 2, I guess,
I've just grown steadily less impressed with.
Perhaps Elf was a precursor to a safe, family-friendly,
uneventful future output,
films like Chef and The Jungle Book.
Turan goes on to praise Farrell's performance,
(11:49):
crediting him for, quote,
steering over some of the film's bumpy places.
Yeah, they're bumpy places.
I don't know that he steers over them.
Then he states, there is one area, however,
where Buddy is an elf all the way,
and that is his bottomless good cheer.
Despite having to wear the typical elf costume
of a bright green suit and conical hat
over yellow tights and pointy shoes,
Buddy radiates cheer like it's never been radiated before.
(12:10):
He's always ready with a hug, even for angry raccoons.
And when he says, I just like to smile,
smiling is my favorite.
You know he's not just blowing smoke up Santa's chimney.
I do think Farrell is perhaps the only actor
who could have been cast in this role.
Particularly in the early part of his career,
Farrell mastered the art of playing a man-child,
perfected perhaps in his portrayal
of Brennan in Stepbrothers,
(12:30):
but certainly present in other roles,
old school, Talladega Nights, Anchorman.
The difference in those roles, however,
is they're all R or PG-13 rated.
Or if you watch Talladega Nights or Anchorman as I do,
you check out the blue or unrated cuts on the DVD.
When a character of his is debasing
his Stepbrothers drum set or telling Veronica Corningweir
that he wants to be friends with her heinie, it's hilarious.
He's clueless and childless still,
(12:51):
but in a much more inappropriate way.
In Elf, Buddy is just a typical fish
out of water plot device.
Ricky Bobby or Ron Burgundy should know better,
and perhaps they even do, but they choose not to behave.
Maybe it's just me, but that makes for a more interesting,
fun and hilarious character
than Buddy's natural nescience and guilelessness.
While I'm at it, does it make me the get-off-my-lawn guy
(13:12):
to think that Buddy is just annoying?
Especially if you actually interacted with him,
pressing all the buttons on an elevator,
playing tag and hopping on display mattresses
in a department store that's bustling for the holidays?
And let's face it, being in the women's locker room
while someone is showering, yeah,
pretty sure in the real world that woman
isn't gonna agree to a date with you the next day.
She's gonna be calling the cops.
(13:34):
Taran continues, since Elf is something of a one-joke movie,
it's essential that Farrell get this limitless innocence
right, and he does.
His buddy, a cheerful combination of Stan Laurel
and Tom Hanks in Big, is an enduring elf candide,
a true naive who can't help but make the best of everything.
At least he acknowledges that this is a one-joke flick,
but on that point, I'd like to move into my take.
(13:55):
Taran's comparison of Buddy to an elf candide caught my eye,
candide being one of my favorite works of literature,
but let's think about that for a second.
Voltaire's candide starts out as an innocent,
relentlessly optimistic naive, yes,
but he doesn't stay that way.
Over the course of the story,
he's dragged through absurdity, tragedy,
the cruel realities of the world,
and eventually he grows weary and cynical.
(14:16):
Candide's ultimate conclusion,
that we must cultivate our garden,
is neither pure innocence nor naivety.
It's hard-won wisdom, a complex, mature recognition
that we must make meaning in an imperfect and different world.
And let's be clear,
candide and his companions are not cultivating Eden.
That garden is full of weeds and hard labor
and no small amount of resignation.
It is not idyllic bliss.
(14:37):
Now compare that to Buddy the elf.
He starts out as a wide-eyed, syrup-chugging,
utterly guileless, and he ends the same way.
Buddy doesn't involve, doesn't learn,
and certainly doesn't encounter anything
resembling real-world challenges
that might temper his relentless cheer.
He skips along in a bubble of sweetness,
untouched by the chaos around him.
If candide is about hard-won wisdom,
elf is about relentless, unearned innocence.
(14:59):
And that's not a criticism of Will Ferrell.
He plays the part as well as anyone could,
but of the script and the film's refusal
to do anything with that innocence.
And then there's Jovi, Zoé Deschanel's character,
who I would argue is Cunegonde in reverse.
In candide, Cunegonde starts as the idealized,
almost fairy-tale love interest
before she's dragged through every conceivable hardship
Voltaire could throw at her.
(15:20):
By the end, she's hardened, pragmatic,
and far from the naive beauty she once was.
If Buddy is a faux candide who never evolves,
Jovi is the opposite.
She begins as weary, disenchanted, and guarded,
only to be inexplicably won over
by Buddy's relentless cheer.
But unlike Cunegonde, whose transformation
comes from enduring real challenges,
Jovi's reversal feels unearned.
(15:40):
She doesn't grow because of the meaningful experiences
or revelations.
She changes because the plot needs her to.
Her entire arc serves to validate Buddy's innocence
rather than challenge or complicate it.
If anything, she loses the dimension she started with
and ends up reduced to yet another rom-com trope,
the love interest who just needed a little Christmas spirit.
Also, to make the comparison of Elf to Big
(16:02):
is nothing shy of blasphemy.
They both involve grown men acting like children,
and it stops there.
Oh, wait, they also have three-letter titles.
In Big, Josh Baskin, played by Tom Hanks,
is a child in an adult's body.
His innocence and enthusiasm feel authentic
because they stem from the reality of his situation.
He is a 13-year-old boy navigating an adult world,
(16:24):
trying to balance childlike wonder
with pressures of responsibility.
Buddy the Elf, on the other hand,
is a grown man who acts like a child.
His behavior comes across as one-dimensional
because his naivety isn't grounded in reality.
There's no real reason for Buddy to be the way he is
except for the contrived plot.
Unlike Josh, Buddy's character doesn't evolve or deepen.
He starts and ends the same wide-eyed,
(16:44):
syrup-chugging goofball.
There's no complexity or emotional depth
to balance out the goofiness.
Big balances comedy with heart.
Yes, there's humor in Josh acting like a child,
jumping on the piano, playing chopsticks,
eating candy for dinner,
but there's also a melancholy and real stakes in that film.
Josh misses his childhood,
struggles to navigate adult relationships,
(17:05):
and ultimately he faces a choice,
stay in this adult world or return to his real life.
That emotional undercurrent gives the film some weight.
Elf avoids any genuine emotional stakes.
It's relentlessly cheery with very little conflict
or introspection.
Even Buddy's search for belonging,
we'll put that in air quotes,
is surface level at best.
His father's initial rejection is resolved far too easily
(17:27):
and Buddy never wrestles with his identity
in any meaningful way.
In Big, the tonal balance keeps the audience invested.
We laugh at Josh's antics,
but we also care about his emotional journey.
Elf's refusal to explore anything
beyond its surface level cheeriness
leaves it feeling shallow and saccharine instead.
Most importantly, however, Big just resonates.
And it resonates because it taps into something universal.
(17:49):
The longing to grow up too quickly
only to realize adulthood isn't all it's cracked up to be.
It's a story about innocence, loss,
and the bittersweet nature of growing up,
which gives it some emotional depth.
Elf doesn't tap into any broader truth or theme.
It's a straightforward celebration of innocence
in the Christmas spirit.
If you're not on board with that relentless cheerfulness,
then there's nothing really to launch onto.
(18:09):
As for the comparison to Stan Laurel,
I'm just gonna leave that one
because I know nothing about Laurel and Hardy
other than I think they wore bowler hats.
Hey, we all have our niches
and classic Hollywood screwball comedic duos
aren't one of mine.
If I tried to expound on that point, well,
I'd be getting my own self into another fine mess.
Candide, however, is hilarious.
(18:29):
Big is a generally funny and entertaining film.
Both are solid comedies.
And I struggle to find a thread of humor in this film at all.
I'm all for a good bit of sophomore humor.
I tell my students before we read the Miller's Tale
that they're about to experience the greatest fart joke
in literary history.
Chaucer knew what he was doing.
He gave us high brow, well executed, low humor.
But even the scatological jokes in Elf are stupid.
(18:51):
Buddy burps for what?
A solid minute at the dinner table?
A troll farts?
Really?
That's it?
That's what's passing for comedy here?
There's a fine line between juvenile humor
and just plain juvenile.
And this film farts its way right over it.
That said, as always with my take,
when I enjoy the film, I try to find critiques.
When I loathe the film, I still try to find positives.
(19:14):
So here's one I'll rehash from the holiday
a couple of short days ago.
It's visually compelling.
The colors pop.
And as much as Buddy annoys the fire out of me,
I'll admit, Will Ferrell does look something in that getup.
Not good exactly, but interesting.
I really did appreciate the North Pole scenes.
For a moment you can actually imagine
candy cane forests and seas of twirly swirly gumdrops
(19:34):
existing somewhere out there.
Favreau crafts a minimalist yet imaginative world,
uses these miniatures for the exteriors
and deliberately low tech aesthetic for the interiors.
Rather than defaulting to CGI or green screens,
he opts for forced perspective to create the size discrepancy
between Buddy, Santa, and then the other elves.
A smart practical choice that makes the visuals
feel more tangible and nostalgic.
(19:56):
And then there's the stop motion work.
The snowman, the narwhal, for instance,
are perfect homages to the rank and base Christmas specials.
Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Santa Claus is Coming to Town,
the Little Drummer Boy.
Those charming handmade classics we have a certain age
remember from childhood.
Favreau clearly knew what he was doing here,
leaning into a timeless storybook quality
that still holds up, even if Buddy himself makes
(20:17):
me want to turn the TV off.
I actually wish we had more time in the fantasy
world of the North Pole.
Favreau, though, also makes New York come to life
on the screen.
A New York that, like so many films set in the city that
never sleeps, is actually filmed in Vancouver.
But it's nowhere near as compelling to the eyes
as the North Pole.
Anything else positive I can say, let me think.
(20:38):
Jeez, how many seconds of silence
am I going to have to edit out of this?
Crap.
OK, there's one other positive.
But I'm going to save it for the next segment.
So put a pin in it for now, and let's move
into the standout performance.
Most people would probably say Will Ferrell here.
And there's no doubt he's dedicated to this role all in.
He becomes Buddy the elf.
However, for starters, I like to avoid the obvious
(21:00):
in this segment and come at it sideways.
Furthermore, Buddy is the most annoying character
in the history of celluloid.
And yes, Jar Jar Binks, I'm counting you in that as well.
Well, then there's Zooey Deschanel.
I've already criticized her character arc,
which is of no fault to her.
She goes from this cynical, bitter store clerk,
and who wouldn't be, having to dress up like an elf,
deal with snot-nosed children all day,
(21:20):
and still makes a little that her water gets cut off,
to a sparkly-eyed true believer, all because Buddy takes her
to go eat food, to drink the world's best cup of coffee that
doesn't live up to its claim.
And what?
They marvel over Christmas trees?
One little five-minute dating montage,
and suddenly she's more reformed than George Bailey?
And it took him two hours and 10 minutes
(21:40):
for his bell-ringing, angel-winging epiphany to set in.
I did say at least a modicum of praise
for this film in reserve, though.
And it is Deschanel.
For starters, her face is perhaps the most elven
of the entire cast, even though she's not a true elf
in this reality.
Those nearly comically large doe eyes of hers
and her unique bone structure in her face,
they're just dazzling.
Some people have a visage that's born to be
(22:01):
on the silver screen, and she's one of them.
And I don't mean that in a prurient way.
If you don't believe me, go listen
to how I gushed over Jude Law in the last episode.
When Deschanel is cynical, though, she's convincing.
When she's the manic pixie Christmas girl,
she sells that with impeccable skill, too.
The only fault, again, is in the writing
and how quickly she moves from one to the other.
But can we pause for a moment and talk about her voice?
(22:22):
Holy crap does that woman have a set of pipes.
It's just not fair that some people get literally
all the talent.
I was talking to my sister a few months ago
about a particular celeb who started out
as a trapeze artist, became a professional women's wrestler,
and then became an equestrian.
And my sister replied in her trademark deadpan manner,
I don't understand how some people can do stuff.
Well, Zoe Deschanel, she can do stuff.
(22:43):
She's actually also a singer.
I found this out from a little research.
It looks like she's also in a band called She and Him.
Just pulling up the link on YouTube, a little ditty
called Sweet Darlin', I'm amazed.
It's a gritty little jangle pop number
that feels like it fell right out of 1965.
Half Byrds and half Susanna Hoffs and Matthew Sweet.
(23:03):
Getting back on track, this film is splitting at the seams
with great actors.
It's as if Ed Asner was born to play Saint Nick.
Bob Newhart is always a delight,
even if his presence here is criminally underused.
Of Mary Steenburgen, Ebert remarks that only she
could pull off the role of the wife
who suddenly discovers her husband has a bastard child
who's 30 and thinks he's an elf
and welcome into the family.
(23:24):
But she does.
James Cahn, on the other hand, whom I expected much of,
phones his performance incompletely.
He's clearly there for the paycheck and nothing else.
And you know what?
I can't blame him.
It's a crap movie.
It's just disappointing.
On my last episode tease, I did mention Ray Harryhausen.
He plays Polar Bear Cub and has maybe two lines.
Harryhausen, of course, is a legendary stop motion animator
(23:44):
working on such films as All the Sinbads
and The Clash of the Titans, the original.
He passed away in 2013 at the age of 92.
Sadly, I never got to meet him,
despite the two of us having a mutual friend.
But through said mutual friend,
I do have a DVD copy of Mighty Joe Young,
the original 1942 classic, by the way, not that remake,
autographed by him and I cherish that.
It seems like they let him voice a couple of lines
(24:05):
out of respect for all he'd done for the field
and I appreciate that.
But I can't give a standout performance or nod
to something that limited.
You know, I'm just gonna say this.
Honorable mention to Mary Steenburgen
for really selling it in the limited time that she gets.
And we'll give it all to Zooey Deschanel.
She took a role that was horribly written,
trite, underdeveloped and made something of it.
Not much, but something.
(24:26):
And I could just listen to her singing for hours on end.
Moving into cultural context.
Last episode, I looked into the holiday films of 2006,
exploring what surrounded the holiday.
With stinkers like Deck the Halls and The Santa Clause 3
and that abomination of a black Christmas remake,
I hypothesized that perhaps the sheer ineptitude
of its competitors catapulted the holiday into its status
(24:48):
as the most beloved seasonal offering of that year.
And I wondered if the same might be true for Elf.
And this is where I got a little baffled.
2003 also saw the release of Bad Santa,
which yes, sits on my DVD shelf,
though I've never actually watched it.
From what I hear, it's a solid flick,
but clearly it appeals to a very different demographic
than Elf.
I'm pretty sure family-friendly isn't in its vocabulary.
(25:08):
But 2003 was also the year of love, actually.
A film I hear endlessly praised.
I've seen it exactly once, and I remember very little.
Somehow it made me hate Alan Rickman
or at least his character.
And it featured that creepy cue card scene.
Even Keira Knightley recently called out that scene
is unsettling.
It's funny that what we've always called stalking
seems to pass as romance in the world of rom-coms.
(25:31):
And yes, I'm looking at you, John Cusack, in your boombox.
Honestly, I'd operated under the impression
that love actually was a similarly innocuous holiday
rom-com in the vein of the holiday.
But imagine my surprise when I learned it's a hard R.
Who knew?
I guess everyone but me, actually.
Thankfully, it's not on my DVD shelf,
so I won't have to endure that one again.
All this to say, as far as 2003 theatrical releases go,
(25:52):
Elf appears to have been the only real option for families.
Even without research, I doubt anyone
was carding their grade schoolers
to a film called Bad Santa.
So that likely gave Elf an edge, contributing to its success.
Still, I don't think that alone explains
why this film has become a perennial holiday favorite.
If I had to speculate, I'd say it's
this film's earnestness and wholesomeness that locks it
into the seasonal rotation.
(26:14):
Christmas films aren't exactly known for their irony
or cynicism, which probably explains my aversion
to most of them.
There are some, like the aforementioned Christmas
films, that do blend a bit of satire and social commentary
and some irreverence, while they still maintain a somewhat level
of tradition, enough to garner it for rewatches.
Heck, even with all its earnestness,
it's a wonderful life, at least has
(26:36):
some level of nuance and sophistication, something
that Elf sorely lacks.
There's no irony, no bite, just boundless cheer
and saccharine earnestness delivered
like buddy guzzling maple syrup straight from the bottle.
At this point, I'm just going to stop racking my brains
for an explanation as to why this film is so beloved.
I want to chalk it up to the vast majority of people
just being Philistines with no discernment whatsoever,
(26:59):
but that would make me elitist and snooty,
make me sound arrogant.
So I'm not going to say what I totally just said.
I don't want to research trivia for this film.
I severely dislike it, and I just
want to get this episode over with.
But in looking into Christmas movies from 2003,
I stumbled across a tidbit so bizarre
that it demanded sharing.
(27:20):
I've made it no secret, so much so that it's probably
wearing thin by now, that National Lampoon's Christmas
Vacation is one of my top three holiday films, which
is even more impressive if you consider only like about four
holiday films total.
Well, did you know that in December of 2003,
NBC aired a made-for-TV sequel?
Yep.
National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation 2, Cousin Eddie's
Island Adventure, is apparently a thing.
(27:42):
No Chevy Chase, no Beverly D'Angelo,
and judging by what I've read, no budget, no plot,
and certainly no taste.
The first three vacation films, the original European Vacation
and Christmas Vacation, are all comedic gems.
As for Vegas Vacation and the 2015 Vacation remake,
they're like all but the first three Star Wars films to me.
They just don't exist.
(28:02):
This one didn't exist in my headcanon either,
but that's because I literally had no idea
it had been crapped into existence.
But here we are.
Apparently the plot goes something like this.
Eddie gets fired and afraid he's going to sue.
The company sends him and his family on a vacation
to the South Pacific.
Then, in what I assume is the most on-brand Cousin
Eddie plot development, he chases a shark.
(28:23):
Yes, a shark.
And winds up getting them all stranded on a desert island.
Think Gilligan's Island, but with more flannel and less
competence.
Oh, and Ed Asner's in it too.
And a chimpanzee.
Dana Barron, who played Audrey in the original vacation,
reprises her role here, which is actually notable
because it's the only time a Griswold kid has been
played by the same actor twice.
A little odd, too, since Juliette Lewis was Audrey
(28:44):
in Christmas Vacation, but still.
And then there's Lee Sung-Hai as a tour guide.
And I, of course, know her from her extensive acting career
and definitely not from her numerous appearances
in a certain men's magazine from the 90s.
You know, one that rhymes with stray joy.
I cannot even fathom how rancid a turd of a film
this must be.
And I won't have to, because I just bought a digital copy
(29:05):
on Amazon.
I don't know why I do this to myself, but here we are.
I won't wager with you right now.
I bet I'll enjoy Christmas Vacation 2 more than I did Elf.
That's a bold claim, I know, especially since I've offered
absolutely no stakes.
But either way, I'll let you know in the next episode.
Starting last episode, I introduced a new segment,
Shelfless Endeavors.
(29:26):
I found a newfound drive to get back to the theater
and watch films on the big screen,
the way God and Martin Scorsese intended.
After COVID shut everything down,
that habit slipped away from me.
Since March 2020, I'd only been to the theater three times.
And that's, of course, if you don't count,
the Scholl Theater screenings of older classics
like Jaws, Scream, and The Big Lebowski.
Incidentally, this Friday, the 20th, I guess it is,
(29:47):
they're showing Christmas Vacation.
So come say hi to me at Scholl's Theater.
But in the last two weeks alone,
I've been to the theater three times.
Progress.
The idea here is simple.
I give my honest snap takes on films
that are currently playing or generating buzz,
and that's whether in theaters or also streaming.
So on Sunday, I treated myself to a matinee
of The Lord of the Rings, The War of the Rohirrim.
(30:07):
Let's establish some context here.
I've thoroughly enjoyed reading Tolkien's work
since high school, and I'm a fan
of Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings trilogy.
I was much less enamored with The Hobbit,
an unexpected trilogy.
There was far too much filler and fan fiction
crammed into three bloated films, but they were watchable.
And I also don't mind cartoons made for adult audiences.
(30:28):
I've enjoyed much of the DC animated universe, for example.
And yes, I own a lot of those DVDs,
so you'll hear episodes on films like Batman Hush
and Justice League Dark at some point.
That said, I've never been particularly enamored
with the anime style.
I mean, I appreciate its artistry.
It's just, it's not for me, you know?
Maybe War of the Rohirrim leans too heavily
into some of those conventions, but I just,
(30:48):
I found it jerky.
It was often poorly lit, drained of color
in some spots, oddly.
The backgrounds looked like painted backdrops
that never moved.
They were just lifeless and static,
and they lacked the richness
that I associate with Middle Earth.
Now, I've often bemoaned the fact
that everything nowadays has to be part of a preexisting IP.
That said, if you're going to mine a franchise for content,
(31:08):
Tolkien's Middle Earth is actually ripe
for this kind of storytelling.
I haven't watched Rings of Power,
but I'm not opposed to the concept
or to the idea of an animated film set in this world.
The problem here is just the execution.
This one wasn't well done.
The pacing was abysmal.
The story was thin.
It was far too much padding for its absurd,
what, two hour and 15 minute runtime?
If you're a diehard Tolkien fan,
(31:29):
you might find just enough there to entertain you,
but as for me, who's a fan, yeah,
but not someone you're going to find
cosplaying Samwise Gamgee at DragonCon,
it's just a waste of a sawbuck in a Sunday afternoon.
Looking ahead, I do hope to watch Craven later this week
because apparently I'll have punishing myself with bad films,
but I did also balance the scales today
(31:49):
by purchasing Anora on streaming,
which is a critically acclaimed reel
that's getting quite a bit of buzz right now.
So stay tuned.
I'll share my thoughts on those and any other films
I might manage to catch right here on Shelfless Endeavors.
For now, let's just move into our final segment,
Shelf Esteem.
Enough digressions, distractions, and disenchantments.
Let's stick this film on a shelf.
For those unfamiliar or in need of a refresher,
(32:10):
there are five shelves on my DVD curio.
I use the bartender's model, the best stuff on the top shelf,
rot gut on the bottom shelf,
and then there's second shelf, middle shelf,
and fourth shelf in between.
I should also stress that while my personal opinions
play a role, I don't only consider
my own tastes and preferences.
I try to factor in broader public appeal.
If I didn't, there'd be no elf on my shelf.
(32:31):
I'd toss it in the backyard where it's saccharine fumes
would send the raccoons fleeing faster
than a hug from Buddy, but it's not just about me.
I know a lot of people love this flick
and good for you.
Watch it, re-watch it, make it a holiday tradition.
As for me, when my son visits next week,
I'm gonna insist he take this DVD back with him.
And if he doesn't want that nostalgia,
(32:52):
I'll find someone, maybe a cousin with small kids,
who'll treasure it and appreciate it
in ways I simply cannot.
So yeah, literally this film won't be shelfed
in my curio any longer.
Metaphorically though, I'm placing it on
the fourth shelf.
Fourth shelf.
By definition, fourth shelf is for films
(33:12):
that may have significant flaws
or only appeal to specific tastes.
Watch if you're interested or a fan of the genre.
So if you love Christmas films, children's films,
films that lean fully into rose-colored earnestness
with zero cynicism, this one's for you.
If you adore Will Ferrell, well,
you can't say he isn't fully committed as Buddy,
so you might like this film for that reason.
(33:34):
But for the rest of you, I mean,
even if you get a little dose of holiday spirit
and want that reflected in your entertainment,
there are literally 100 other Christmas films
you could watch.
And that's coming from a guy who, for the most part,
dislikes Christmas movies.
Doing these podcasts started out as a curiosity,
grew into a hobby, and now it's somewhat
of a labor of love.
A large part of what keeps me doing it
(33:55):
is seeing how many people across the nation
and across the globe, for that matter, are listening.
Seriously, I'm kinda like David Hasselhoff.
I'm big in Europe.
That or a lot of you use VPNs,
but I'm gonna go with the former.
It does go down as a line on my CV, believe it or not,
or at least that's what my department chair tells me.
I guess that makes sense.
I mean, Real Lit is certainly semi-academic.
This podcast is probably more quasi-academic,
(34:18):
but hey, if I can call it an alternative
to the grind and difficulty of publishing
in peer-reviewed journals, then I'm gonna take it.
I say all that to say, there's some work
that goes into this.
Couple hours usually to watch the film,
a bit to review my notes,
a few more hours to jot down the outline on the script,
then there's recording it,
and then at least a couple of hours,
maybe three, to cut out my bloopers
and the 7,000 times an episode,
(34:39):
I say, um, what, do you think I was just naturally
this articulate?
Even with bad films, there's joy to be had,
but honestly, this episode was just work.
So I'm treating myself next time,
a film I genuinely love.
Some call it non-traditional.
I call it, as Christmas is,
Frosty the Snowman or White Christmas.
It just happens to also have fanged reptilian critters
(35:01):
wreaking havoc on a small community.
I'm about to reignite my own bout of nostalgia,
as well as my childhood crush on Phoebe Cates,
mine and every other man of a certain age,
with a 1984 Joe Dante film, Gremlins.
The film is currently streaming on Macs,
as well as playing on HBO and Cinemax,
if you're a boomer who thinks streaming
is what you used to be able to do
before your pesky prostate started acting up.
(35:22):
If you do watch it and wanna talk about any points,
feel free to shoot me an email at steven at shelfcriticism.com.
That's S-T-E-P-H-E-N.
You can also find the podcast on Facebook
at Shelf Criticism.
And don't forget about my other podcast, Real Lit,
where I'm joined by my colleague, the phenomenal McKenzie.
You can find that just about anywhere
you get your podcast fix,
as well as our official website, reallitpodcast.com,
(35:44):
and on social media at reallitpodcast.
Remember, that's R-E-E-L, as in a film reel.
This Saturday, December 21st,
she and I will be in the studio
recording the Christmas episode for that show.
Speaking of non-traditional Christmas films,
or if you're like McKenzie and just flat out wrong,
not a Christmas film at all, we'll be debating,
and I will be winning, the inclusion of Die Hard
(36:05):
into the Christmas movie pantheon.
And yes, it is based off a book,
Roderick Thorpe's 1979 novel, Nothing Lasts Forever,
of which I'm only currently on chapter two of,
so I need to shut up and get to turning those pages,
don't I?
Until next time, DVD aficionados,
remember to treat yourself
to a little shelf indulgence of your own.
Amelia, sing us home.
(36:26):
["Self Criticism"]
Self Criticism is an Owls of Palace production.
This podcast is in no way connected
with the educational institutions the host is employed by.
(36:46):
The opinions expressed herein are solely those of the host
and do not necessarily reflect the views
of any other organization with which he is affiliated.
Most images displayed are public domain.
Images and stills from films, descriptions of scenes,
and passages from books are used for educational
and critical purposes and not for profit,
and therefore fall under the terms of fair use.
["Self Criticism"]
(37:17):
Who sent this Christmas gram?
What's a Christmas gram? I want one.
I've been in New York thousands of times.
(00:02):
Really?
What's it like?
Well, there are some things you should know.
First off, you see gum on the street, leave it there.
It's not free candy.
Second, there are like 30 raised pizzas.
They all claim to be the original,
but the real one's on 11th.
And if you see a sign that says peep show,
(00:24):
that doesn't mean that they're letting you look
at presents before Christmas.
Welcome to Shelf Criticism.
Meet your host, Stephen, a scholar of literature
(00:46):
and film by day, and by night, a cinematic archaeologist
with a penchant for everything from art house to popular
to outright trash cinema.
Over the past quarter century, Stephen
has amassed an eclectic DVD collection,
now occupying five shells of a Curia cabinet
in his living room.
Each week, he bravely selects one of these titles to dissect.
(01:08):
Join him as he unearths everything from obscure gems
to cinematic missteps.
From blockbuster hits to forgotten flops,
each film gets the critical once over it probably
doesn't deserve, but will absolutely receive.
So grab your popcorn and settle in.
It's time to dive into the diverse world of Shelf
Criticism.
(01:35):
Welcome to the second episode of season two,
as well as the second installment of Shelf Christmasism.
For those of you who missed the last episode,
go listen to it first.
I joke, of course.
Podcasts are wonderful in that way, aren't they?
You can pick up, choose, listen out of order.
But seriously, before or after, also
listen to my take on the holiday.
You'll like it.
If you've already listened, you know
(01:55):
I'm trying to tackle as many Christmas films on my DVD
shelf as possible before the big day.
Thankfully, there are precious few.
You see, I don't hate Christmas.
It just ranks pretty low on my list.
I don't pine for it year round or leap into action
as soon as November rolls around, prematurely putting up
decorations.
Honestly, I haven't put up a tree since 2020.
With my kid growing and living eight hours away
(02:16):
and my wife no longer with us, sadly,
the only ones left to appreciate it would be me
and the cats, who would shred it to ribbons.
So I opt out.
Now, as you know, I wasn't a fan of the holiday.
But today's offering is different.
From what I've heard, it's become a modern Christmas
staple, sitting alongside It's a Wonderful Life,
A Christmas Story, and Die Hard, and the upper echelon
of holiday classics.
Beloved by old and young alike, it supposedly
(02:38):
strikes that perfect balance of childlike wonder
with just enough sly adult humor for the over-20 crowd.
Families make it a tradition, watching it every year.
It must be charming, interesting, and compelling.
Surely, surely I was going to like this one.
Well, apparently I'm dead inside.
Or maybe I just prefer my films without gallons of maple
syrup dripping from every frame.
(02:59):
I'm almost afraid to do this.
If I had any sense, I'd back out now
and grab Christmas vacation from the curio instead.
But here we go.
Today's shelf pick is the 2003 Elf.
The DVD front has a sky blue background
with an urban skyline done in the simplistic cartoony style,
the same as the North Pole is portrayed in the film.
In the foreground, we have the title Elf, lowercase e,
(03:21):
with Farrell and full buddy get up standing in the middle
to form the L. The other two letters
have the same decorative gold trim as his tunic coat, which
is a nice stylistic touch.
At the top, we have Will Farrell built in bright red letters,
followed by the smaller with James Khan in black lettering.
On the DVD back, we have the following synopsis.
Before I read it, anyone want to check Vegas for the over
(03:42):
under on how long it'll take me to criticize
grammar punctuation?
Once upon a Christmas Eve, an orphan baby
crawled into Santa's bag of gifts
and was taken to the North Pole.
Raised by Papa Elf, Bob Newhart, Buddy, Will Farrell,
comes to realize he doesn't fit in with the other elves.
Determined to find a place where he belongs,
Buddy searches for his real dad in New York City.
(04:05):
Incidentally, I don't love the M dash between dad
and in New York City, but it's meant for emphasis
and to add a more lengthy pause to build suspense,
so I suppose I'll allow it.
In the Big Apple, Buddy finds out
why his dad, James Khan, is on the naughty list.
But most importantly, he sees that the world
is seriously lacking in Christmas spirit,
which causes Santa all kinds of problems.
(04:26):
So with the help of a beautiful department store elf,
Zoe Deschanel, Buddy tries to teach his dad
and the world the true meaning of Christmas spirit
and to prove to everyone that Santa, Ed Asner,
really exists.
Oh my, not a single snide remark about the cover copies
writing or punctuation.
Maybe there is one that's actually decently written.
(04:47):
Or maybe I'm just holding off on my grumbling
for the film itself.
Beneath this, we have two pictures in the upper left corner,
one of Buddy and Santa speaking
and one of Buddy asleep in the Gimbals display window
as James Khan looks on disapprovingly.
Beneath them is a larger picture of Buddy
sitting in his desk at school,
looming large over the other elves
and looking a whole lot like a 30-something
instead of someone in grade school.
(05:08):
The special features include commentaries
by Will Ferrell and director John Favreau,
deleted alternative scenes, behind the scenes,
music from Elf, fun and games and more.
I didn't try a single special feature and I'm not going to.
I want nothing else to do with this film
once I finish this podcast.
So how I came to own it.
My son was six years old I think when this film came out.
(05:30):
I'm pretty sure if you had a child around that age,
you were legally required to own this DVD.
I don't think I personally bought it.
Probably got it for Christmas the next year or something.
I have no idea how I managed to avoid ever seeing it.
Seems like at some point during all the holiday madness
in the 21 years since its release,
I'd have been forced to watch it,
whether breaking out the DVD for a family movie night
or stumbling across it on cable.
(05:51):
But as I mentioned last episode
during my reference to Whammageddon,
I seem to have a knack for dodging unwanted brushes
with holiday fare.
The one thing I've never managed to avoid of course
is that blasted Mariah Carey song.
I swear it's even more ubiquitous than last Christmas.
This whole situation reminded me of my experience
with Moby Dick.
Just bear with me.
Back in grad school we played a drinking game
called I've Never Read.
(06:12):
The rules were simple.
Someone named a book that everyone getting a master's
in literature should have already read but hadn't.
And everyone who had read it
was punished by having to take a drink.
Everyone knew I was holding the white whale
for the right moment.
And when I finally said it,
every person around me had to take a shot.
Even as my academic focus became animal attack fiction,
I resisted reading it.
Wasn't until about five Christmases ago actually
(06:33):
when my dad gifted me with a beautiful
Norton critical edition of Melville's opus,
I finally caved in and read it.
It took me four months to finish, but I did it.
I can appreciate its brilliance and craftsmanship,
but the only Moby Dick I plan on revisiting
is the instrumental on Led Zeppelin II.
And let's be honest,
that version has a much better drum solo.
And that brings me back to Elf.
Avoiding it for this long feels just as improbable
(06:54):
as avoiding Moby Dick.
How did I manage to dodge it for two decades?
Well, not like it matters now.
I've finally seen it.
And well, I've lost my Elf virginity.
Man, that sounded a lot worse than I meant it.
I understood why Moby Dick was revered.
At least.
And I'd reread it a dozen times
before sitting through 90 minutes of Elf again.
But hey, let's see if the critics are on my side.
(07:16):
Critic reception.
They are in fact not on my side.
Those pesky critics.
On Rotten Tomatoes, the film holds an 86%
on the tomato meter.
I always wonder if it's tomato meter or tomatometer.
Tomatometer?
Whatever.
Metacritic knocks it down a couple of pegs,
but it still scores a respectable 66.
The popcorn meter, Rotten Tomatoes user review,
(07:38):
drops it slightly to 78%
while Metacritic users are mostly consistent,
rating it at a 7.4.
Apparently, I am indeed dead inside.
Writing for Vulture, Peter Rayner offers
what I think is a fair assessment.
Quote, I was looking forward to something
a tad more satirical than this Hallmark card of a movie,
which plugs innocence and goodness
like they're going out of style.
(07:58):
This was some 11 years before the Hallmark channel
became a thing, but it's strangely prescient
that he thought of the greeting cards
from the company that would eventually become
the incessant tinsel tinge treacle
oozing from their network.
Elf doesn't quite sink to that shallow and saccharine level,
but it does have a similar syrupy cookie cutter
full wholesome feel, or so I assume,
(08:19):
as I've never actually seen a Hallmark Christmas movie.
Like ever hearing Last Christmas Again,
that's an experience I don't plan on having.
To be fair, I need to take a step back
and do a little self-assessment
alongside my shelf assessment.
Is my heart two sizes too small?
When it comes to holiday films,
the one I enjoy tend to be non-traditional, as they call it.
Die Hard, Gremlins, Black Christmas,
the 1974 original, mind you, not those abominable remakes.
(08:42):
Of what we might call
a quote unquote traditional Christmas fair,
I guess I'm left with mostly Christmas vacation,
which is mostly a reverent
with a few genuine moments of heart,
and a Christmas story,
which leans a bit more into the earnestness,
but still delivers plenty of leg lamp shaped irreverence.
So is my aversion to Elf
because it's utterly devoid of cynicism?
It's perfectly innocent, never daring to poke,
(09:03):
however slightly, at the less than desirable parts
of this holiday, and let's face it, there are a few.
Instead, it blindly, full-throatedly warbles
about the magic, the nostalgia,
the wholesomeness of the season.
Like, literally.
Case in point, the film's climax,
Zooey Deschanel bellows out Santa Claus is coming to town
while standing on a trailer in front of Central Park.
So is that the problem?
(09:23):
Does my grinchy sardonic soul simply recoil
at its unflinching earnestness?
Well, that quality seems to be a large part
of why Roger frickin' Ebert, of all people,
gave Elf three out of four stars,
eagerly celebrating its heart.
He also claims the film has, quote,
a brain and a wicked sense of humor,
and it charms the socks right off the mantelpiece.
Aside from blowing parallelism
(09:43):
like an inept freshman's rough draft,
what are the odds I'd critique Ebert's writing,
of all things?
I wholeheartedly disagree.
This film has all the brains of the scarecrow
before the wizard handed him a diploma.
Humor?
I chuckled maybe two, three times at best.
Most of it was just loud and obnoxious.
And as for my socks, Mr. Ebert,
they're still firmly on my feet,
not the mantle, because remember,
(10:04):
I don't decorate for Christmas.
For the deep dive into a critic, however,
I thought I'd look at another positive review.
Kenneth Turan of Los Angeles Times
has an article entitled, Elf Has the Magic Touch.
He begins, Elf is an example of the good things
that can happen when hipsters do it on the square.
Is that dadaism?
All those words are in the English language, I guess.
(10:24):
It's just the order they're in is baffling.
I think what he's trying to get at
is that it's done unironically.
But can you be a hipster and not embrace irony?
Anyhow, his next sentence,
the fable of what transpires
when a young man raised by elves
goes back to investigate his human roots,
it manages to be both genuinely sweet
and just a teensy bit wised up.
(10:45):
Wised up?
How old is this dude?
Is he deliberately talking like Peter Lorre
in a 40s gangster flick?
Again, I think the translation here
is that the film is intelligent,
something Ebert also contended
and something that I wholeheartedly disagree with.
Mentioning the direction, Turan states,
directed by Jon Favreau from a script by David Berenbaum,
Elf returns to the hip but warm-hearted spirit of swingers,
(11:07):
which Favreau both wrote and starred in.
It brings sophisticated glee and a sense of innocent fun
to what could have been
a more abundant traditional family film.
Ah, suddenly the hipster quip makes sense.
Both the mentioned swingers and maid, Favreau's early oeuvre,
certainly give off some hipster vibes.
I think Turan is suggesting here
some of the same style of Favreau is on display,
(11:28):
songs irony and acidity.
I have to admit, I was a little surprised
when I saw that Favreau directed this.
Then again, his past work behind the camera
after Iron Man, Iron Man 2, I guess,
I've just grown steadily less impressed with.
Perhaps Elf was a precursor to a safe, family-friendly,
uneventful future output,
films like Chef and The Jungle Book.
Turan goes on to praise Farrell's performance,
(11:49):
crediting him for, quote,
steering over some of the film's bumpy places.
Yeah, they're bumpy places.
I don't know that he steers over them.
Then he states, there is one area, however,
where Buddy is an elf all the way,
and that is his bottomless good cheer.
Despite having to wear the typical elf costume
of a bright green suit and conical hat
over yellow tights and pointy shoes,
Buddy radiates cheer like it's never been radiated before.
(12:10):
He's always ready with a hug, even for angry raccoons.
And when he says, I just like to smile,
smiling is my favorite.
You know he's not just blowing smoke up Santa's chimney.
I do think Farrell is perhaps the only actor
who could have been cast in this role.
Particularly in the early part of his career,
Farrell mastered the art of playing a man-child,
perfected perhaps in his portrayal
of Brennan in Stepbrothers,
(12:30):
but certainly present in other roles,
old school, Talladega Nights, Anchorman.
The difference in those roles, however,
is they're all R or PG-13 rated.
Or if you watch Talladega Nights or Anchorman as I do,
you check out the blue or unrated cuts on the DVD.
When a character of his is debasing
his Stepbrothers drum set or telling Veronica Corningweir
that he wants to be friends with her heinie, it's hilarious.
He's clueless and childless still,
(12:51):
but in a much more inappropriate way.
In Elf, Buddy is just a typical fish
out of water plot device.
Ricky Bobby or Ron Burgundy should know better,
and perhaps they even do, but they choose not to behave.
Maybe it's just me, but that makes for a more interesting,
fun and hilarious character
than Buddy's natural nescience and guilelessness.
While I'm at it, does it make me the get-off-my-lawn guy
(13:12):
to think that Buddy is just annoying?
Especially if you actually interacted with him,
pressing all the buttons on an elevator,
playing tag and hopping on display mattresses
in a department store that's bustling for the holidays?
And let's face it, being in the women's locker room
while someone is showering, yeah,
pretty sure in the real world that woman
isn't gonna agree to a date with you the next day.
She's gonna be calling the cops.
(13:34):
Taran continues, since Elf is something of a one-joke movie,
it's essential that Farrell get this limitless innocence
right, and he does.
His buddy, a cheerful combination of Stan Laurel
and Tom Hanks in Big, is an enduring elf candide,
a true naive who can't help but make the best of everything.
At least he acknowledges that this is a one-joke flick,
but on that point, I'd like to move into my take.
(13:55):
Taran's comparison of Buddy to an elf candide caught my eye,
candide being one of my favorite works of literature,
but let's think about that for a second.
Voltaire's candide starts out as an innocent,
relentlessly optimistic naive, yes,
but he doesn't stay that way.
Over the course of the story,
he's dragged through absurdity, tragedy,
the cruel realities of the world,
and eventually he grows weary and cynical.
(14:16):
Candide's ultimate conclusion,
that we must cultivate our garden,
is neither pure innocence nor naivety.
It's hard-won wisdom, a complex, mature recognition
that we must make meaning in an imperfect and different world.
And let's be clear,
candide and his companions are not cultivating Eden.
That garden is full of weeds and hard labor
and no small amount of resignation.
It is not idyllic bliss.
(14:37):
Now compare that to Buddy the elf.
He starts out as a wide-eyed, syrup-chugging,
utterly guileless, and he ends the same way.
Buddy doesn't involve, doesn't learn,
and certainly doesn't encounter anything
resembling real-world challenges
that might temper his relentless cheer.
He skips along in a bubble of sweetness,
untouched by the chaos around him.
If candide is about hard-won wisdom,
elf is about relentless, unearned innocence.
(14:59):
And that's not a criticism of Will Ferrell.
He plays the part as well as anyone could,
but of the script and the film's refusal
to do anything with that innocence.
And then there's Jovi, Zoé Deschanel's character,
who I would argue is Cunegonde in reverse.
In candide, Cunegonde starts as the idealized,
almost fairy-tale love interest
before she's dragged through every conceivable hardship
Voltaire could throw at her.
(15:20):
By the end, she's hardened, pragmatic,
and far from the naive beauty she once was.
If Buddy is a faux candide who never evolves,
Jovi is the opposite.
She begins as weary, disenchanted, and guarded,
only to be inexplicably won over
by Buddy's relentless cheer.
But unlike Cunegonde, whose transformation
comes from enduring real challenges,
Jovi's reversal feels unearned.
(15:40):
She doesn't grow because of the meaningful experiences
or revelations.
She changes because the plot needs her to.
Her entire arc serves to validate Buddy's innocence
rather than challenge or complicate it.
If anything, she loses the dimension she started with
and ends up reduced to yet another rom-com trope,
the love interest who just needed a little Christmas spirit.
Also, to make the comparison of Elf to Big
(16:02):
is nothing shy of blasphemy.
They both involve grown men acting like children,
and it stops there.
Oh, wait, they also have three-letter titles.
In Big, Josh Baskin, played by Tom Hanks,
is a child in an adult's body.
His innocence and enthusiasm feel authentic
because they stem from the reality of his situation.
He is a 13-year-old boy navigating an adult world,
(16:24):
trying to balance childlike wonder
with pressures of responsibility.
Buddy the Elf, on the other hand,
is a grown man who acts like a child.
His behavior comes across as one-dimensional
because his naivety isn't grounded in reality.
There's no real reason for Buddy to be the way he is
except for the contrived plot.
Unlike Josh, Buddy's character doesn't evolve or deepen.
He starts and ends the same wide-eyed,
(16:44):
syrup-chugging goofball.
There's no complexity or emotional depth
to balance out the goofiness.
Big balances comedy with heart.
Yes, there's humor in Josh acting like a child,
jumping on the piano, playing chopsticks,
eating candy for dinner,
but there's also a melancholy and real stakes in that film.
Josh misses his childhood,
struggles to navigate adult relationships,
(17:05):
and ultimately he faces a choice,
stay in this adult world or return to his real life.
That emotional undercurrent gives the film some weight.
Elf avoids any genuine emotional stakes.
It's relentlessly cheery with very little conflict
or introspection.
Even Buddy's search for belonging,
we'll put that in air quotes,
is surface level at best.
His father's initial rejection is resolved far too easily
(17:27):
and Buddy never wrestles with his identity
in any meaningful way.
In Big, the tonal balance keeps the audience invested.
We laugh at Josh's antics,
but we also care about his emotional journey.
Elf's refusal to explore anything
beyond its surface level cheeriness
leaves it feeling shallow and saccharine instead.
Most importantly, however, Big just resonates.
And it resonates because it taps into something universal.
(17:49):
The longing to grow up too quickly
only to realize adulthood isn't all it's cracked up to be.
It's a story about innocence, loss,
and the bittersweet nature of growing up,
which gives it some emotional depth.
Elf doesn't tap into any broader truth or theme.
It's a straightforward celebration of innocence
in the Christmas spirit.
If you're not on board with that relentless cheerfulness,
then there's nothing really to launch onto.
(18:09):
As for the comparison to Stan Laurel,
I'm just gonna leave that one
because I know nothing about Laurel and Hardy
other than I think they wore bowler hats.
Hey, we all have our niches
and classic Hollywood screwball comedic duos
aren't one of mine.
If I tried to expound on that point, well,
I'd be getting my own self into another fine mess.
Candide, however, is hilarious.
(18:29):
Big is a generally funny and entertaining film.
Both are solid comedies.
And I struggle to find a thread of humor in this film at all.
I'm all for a good bit of sophomore humor.
I tell my students before we read the Miller's Tale
that they're about to experience the greatest fart joke
in literary history.
Chaucer knew what he was doing.
He gave us high brow, well executed, low humor.
But even the scatological jokes in Elf are stupid.
(18:51):
Buddy burps for what?
A solid minute at the dinner table?
A troll farts?
Really?
That's it?
That's what's passing for comedy here?
There's a fine line between juvenile humor
and just plain juvenile.
And this film farts its way right over it.
That said, as always with my take,
when I enjoy the film, I try to find critiques.
When I loathe the film, I still try to find positives.
(19:14):
So here's one I'll rehash from the holiday
a couple of short days ago.
It's visually compelling.
The colors pop.
And as much as Buddy annoys the fire out of me,
I'll admit, Will Ferrell does look something in that getup.
Not good exactly, but interesting.
I really did appreciate the North Pole scenes.
For a moment you can actually imagine
candy cane forests and seas of twirly swirly gumdrops
(19:34):
existing somewhere out there.
Favreau crafts a minimalist yet imaginative world,
uses these miniatures for the exteriors
and deliberately low tech aesthetic for the interiors.
Rather than defaulting to CGI or green screens,
he opts for forced perspective to create the size discrepancy
between Buddy, Santa, and then the other elves.
A smart practical choice that makes the visuals
feel more tangible and nostalgic.
(19:56):
And then there's the stop motion work.
The snowman, the narwhal, for instance,
are perfect homages to the rank and base Christmas specials.
Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Santa Claus is Coming to Town,
the Little Drummer Boy.
Those charming handmade classics we have a certain age
remember from childhood.
Favreau clearly knew what he was doing here,
leaning into a timeless storybook quality
that still holds up, even if Buddy himself makes
(20:17):
me want to turn the TV off.
I actually wish we had more time in the fantasy
world of the North Pole.
Favreau, though, also makes New York come to life
on the screen.
A New York that, like so many films set in the city that
never sleeps, is actually filmed in Vancouver.
But it's nowhere near as compelling to the eyes
as the North Pole.
Anything else positive I can say, let me think.
(20:38):
Jeez, how many seconds of silence
am I going to have to edit out of this?
Crap.
OK, there's one other positive.
But I'm going to save it for the next segment.
So put a pin in it for now, and let's move
into the standout performance.
Most people would probably say Will Ferrell here.
And there's no doubt he's dedicated to this role all in.
He becomes Buddy the elf.
However, for starters, I like to avoid the obvious
(21:00):
in this segment and come at it sideways.
Furthermore, Buddy is the most annoying character
in the history of celluloid.
And yes, Jar Jar Binks, I'm counting you in that as well.
Well, then there's Zooey Deschanel.
I've already criticized her character arc,
which is of no fault to her.
She goes from this cynical, bitter store clerk,
and who wouldn't be, having to dress up like an elf,
deal with snot-nosed children all day,
(21:20):
and still makes a little that her water gets cut off,
to a sparkly-eyed true believer, all because Buddy takes her
to go eat food, to drink the world's best cup of coffee that
doesn't live up to its claim.
And what?
They marvel over Christmas trees?
One little five-minute dating montage,
and suddenly she's more reformed than George Bailey?
And it took him two hours and 10 minutes
(21:40):
for his bell-ringing, angel-winging epiphany to set in.
I did say at least a modicum of praise
for this film in reserve, though.
And it is Deschanel.
For starters, her face is perhaps the most elven
of the entire cast, even though she's not a true elf
in this reality.
Those nearly comically large doe eyes of hers
and her unique bone structure in her face,
they're just dazzling.
Some people have a visage that's born to be
(22:01):
on the silver screen, and she's one of them.
And I don't mean that in a prurient way.
If you don't believe me, go listen
to how I gushed over Jude Law in the last episode.
When Deschanel is cynical, though, she's convincing.
When she's the manic pixie Christmas girl,
she sells that with impeccable skill, too.
The only fault, again, is in the writing
and how quickly she moves from one to the other.
But can we pause for a moment and talk about her voice?
(22:22):
Holy crap does that woman have a set of pipes.
It's just not fair that some people get literally
all the talent.
I was talking to my sister a few months ago
about a particular celeb who started out
as a trapeze artist, became a professional women's wrestler,
and then became an equestrian.
And my sister replied in her trademark deadpan manner,
I don't understand how some people can do stuff.
Well, Zoe Deschanel, she can do stuff.
(22:43):
She's actually also a singer.
I found this out from a little research.
It looks like she's also in a band called She and Him.
Just pulling up the link on YouTube, a little ditty
called Sweet Darlin', I'm amazed.
It's a gritty little jangle pop number
that feels like it fell right out of 1965.
Half Byrds and half Susanna Hoffs and Matthew Sweet.
(23:03):
Getting back on track, this film is splitting at the seams
with great actors.
It's as if Ed Asner was born to play Saint Nick.
Bob Newhart is always a delight,
even if his presence here is criminally underused.
Of Mary Steenburgen, Ebert remarks that only she
could pull off the role of the wife
who suddenly discovers her husband has a bastard child
who's 30 and thinks he's an elf
and welcome into the family.
(23:24):
But she does.
James Cahn, on the other hand, whom I expected much of,
phones his performance incompletely.
He's clearly there for the paycheck and nothing else.
And you know what?
I can't blame him.
It's a crap movie.
It's just disappointing.
On my last episode tease, I did mention Ray Harryhausen.
He plays Polar Bear Cub and has maybe two lines.
Harryhausen, of course, is a legendary stop motion animator
(23:44):
working on such films as All the Sinbads
and The Clash of the Titans, the original.
He passed away in 2013 at the age of 92.
Sadly, I never got to meet him,
despite the two of us having a mutual friend.
But through said mutual friend,
I do have a DVD copy of Mighty Joe Young,
the original 1942 classic, by the way, not that remake,
autographed by him and I cherish that.
It seems like they let him voice a couple of lines
(24:05):
out of respect for all he'd done for the field
and I appreciate that.
But I can't give a standout performance or nod
to something that limited.
You know, I'm just gonna say this.
Honorable mention to Mary Steenburgen
for really selling it in the limited time that she gets.
And we'll give it all to Zooey Deschanel.
She took a role that was horribly written,
trite, underdeveloped and made something of it.
Not much, but something.
(24:26):
And I could just listen to her singing for hours on end.
Moving into cultural context.
Last episode, I looked into the holiday films of 2006,
exploring what surrounded the holiday.
With stinkers like Deck the Halls and The Santa Clause 3
and that abomination of a black Christmas remake,
I hypothesized that perhaps the sheer ineptitude
of its competitors catapulted the holiday into its status
(24:48):
as the most beloved seasonal offering of that year.
And I wondered if the same might be true for Elf.
And this is where I got a little baffled.
2003 also saw the release of Bad Santa,
which yes, sits on my DVD shelf,
though I've never actually watched it.
From what I hear, it's a solid flick,
but clearly it appeals to a very different demographic
than Elf.
I'm pretty sure family-friendly isn't in its vocabulary.
(25:08):
But 2003 was also the year of love, actually.
A film I hear endlessly praised.
I've seen it exactly once, and I remember very little.
Somehow it made me hate Alan Rickman
or at least his character.
And it featured that creepy cue card scene.
Even Keira Knightley recently called out that scene
is unsettling.
It's funny that what we've always called stalking
seems to pass as romance in the world of rom-coms.
(25:31):
And yes, I'm looking at you, John Cusack, in your boombox.
Honestly, I'd operated under the impression
that love actually was a similarly innocuous holiday
rom-com in the vein of the holiday.
But imagine my surprise when I learned it's a hard R.
Who knew?
I guess everyone but me, actually.
Thankfully, it's not on my DVD shelf,
so I won't have to endure that one again.
All this to say, as far as 2003 theatrical releases go,
(25:52):
Elf appears to have been the only real option for families.
Even without research, I doubt anyone
was carding their grade schoolers
to a film called Bad Santa.
So that likely gave Elf an edge, contributing to its success.
Still, I don't think that alone explains
why this film has become a perennial holiday favorite.
If I had to speculate, I'd say it's
this film's earnestness and wholesomeness that locks it
into the seasonal rotation.
(26:14):
Christmas films aren't exactly known for their irony
or cynicism, which probably explains my aversion
to most of them.
There are some, like the aforementioned Christmas
films, that do blend a bit of satire and social commentary
and some irreverence, while they still maintain a somewhat level
of tradition, enough to garner it for rewatches.
Heck, even with all its earnestness,
it's a wonderful life, at least has
(26:36):
some level of nuance and sophistication, something
that Elf sorely lacks.
There's no irony, no bite, just boundless cheer
and saccharine earnestness delivered
like buddy guzzling maple syrup straight from the bottle.
At this point, I'm just going to stop racking my brains
for an explanation as to why this film is so beloved.
I want to chalk it up to the vast majority of people
just being Philistines with no discernment whatsoever,
(26:59):
but that would make me elitist and snooty,
make me sound arrogant.
So I'm not going to say what I totally just said.
I don't want to research trivia for this film.
I severely dislike it, and I just
want to get this episode over with.
But in looking into Christmas movies from 2003,
I stumbled across a tidbit so bizarre
that it demanded sharing.
(27:20):
I've made it no secret, so much so that it's probably
wearing thin by now, that National Lampoon's Christmas
Vacation is one of my top three holiday films, which
is even more impressive if you consider only like about four
holiday films total.
Well, did you know that in December of 2003,
NBC aired a made-for-TV sequel?
Yep.
National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation 2, Cousin Eddie's
Island Adventure, is apparently a thing.
(27:42):
No Chevy Chase, no Beverly D'Angelo,
and judging by what I've read, no budget, no plot,
and certainly no taste.
The first three vacation films, the original European Vacation
and Christmas Vacation, are all comedic gems.
As for Vegas Vacation and the 2015 Vacation remake,
they're like all but the first three Star Wars films to me.
They just don't exist.
(28:02):
This one didn't exist in my headcanon either,
but that's because I literally had no idea
it had been crapped into existence.
But here we are.
Apparently the plot goes something like this.
Eddie gets fired and afraid he's going to sue.
The company sends him and his family on a vacation
to the South Pacific.
Then, in what I assume is the most on-brand Cousin
Eddie plot development, he chases a shark.
(28:23):
Yes, a shark.
And winds up getting them all stranded on a desert island.
Think Gilligan's Island, but with more flannel and less
competence.
Oh, and Ed Asner's in it too.
And a chimpanzee.
Dana Barron, who played Audrey in the original vacation,
reprises her role here, which is actually notable
because it's the only time a Griswold kid has been
played by the same actor twice.
A little odd, too, since Juliette Lewis was Audrey
(28:44):
in Christmas Vacation, but still.
And then there's Lee Sung-Hai as a tour guide.
And I, of course, know her from her extensive acting career
and definitely not from her numerous appearances
in a certain men's magazine from the 90s.
You know, one that rhymes with stray joy.
I cannot even fathom how rancid a turd of a film
this must be.
And I won't have to, because I just bought a digital copy
(29:05):
on Amazon.
I don't know why I do this to myself, but here we are.
I won't wager with you right now.
I bet I'll enjoy Christmas Vacation 2 more than I did Elf.
That's a bold claim, I know, especially since I've offered
absolutely no stakes.
But either way, I'll let you know in the next episode.
Starting last episode, I introduced a new segment,
Shelfless Endeavors.
(29:26):
I found a newfound drive to get back to the theater
and watch films on the big screen,
the way God and Martin Scorsese intended.
After COVID shut everything down,
that habit slipped away from me.
Since March 2020, I'd only been to the theater three times.
And that's, of course, if you don't count,
the Scholl Theater screenings of older classics
like Jaws, Scream, and The Big Lebowski.
Incidentally, this Friday, the 20th, I guess it is,
(29:47):
they're showing Christmas Vacation.
So come say hi to me at Scholl's Theater.
But in the last two weeks alone,
I've been to the theater three times.
Progress.
The idea here is simple.
I give my honest snap takes on films
that are currently playing or generating buzz,
and that's whether in theaters or also streaming.
So on Sunday, I treated myself to a matinee
of The Lord of the Rings, The War of the Rohirrim.
(30:07):
Let's establish some context here.
I've thoroughly enjoyed reading Tolkien's work
since high school, and I'm a fan
of Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings trilogy.
I was much less enamored with The Hobbit,
an unexpected trilogy.
There was far too much filler and fan fiction
crammed into three bloated films, but they were watchable.
And I also don't mind cartoons made for adult audiences.
(30:28):
I've enjoyed much of the DC animated universe, for example.
And yes, I own a lot of those DVDs,
so you'll hear episodes on films like Batman Hush
and Justice League Dark at some point.
That said, I've never been particularly enamored
with the anime style.
I mean, I appreciate its artistry.
It's just, it's not for me, you know?
Maybe War of the Rohirrim leans too heavily
into some of those conventions, but I just,
(30:48):
I found it jerky.
It was often poorly lit, drained of color
in some spots, oddly.
The backgrounds looked like painted backdrops
that never moved.
They were just lifeless and static,
and they lacked the richness
that I associate with Middle Earth.
Now, I've often bemoaned the fact
that everything nowadays has to be part of a preexisting IP.
That said, if you're going to mine a franchise for content,
(31:08):
Tolkien's Middle Earth is actually ripe
for this kind of storytelling.
I haven't watched Rings of Power,
but I'm not opposed to the concept
or to the idea of an animated film set in this world.
The problem here is just the execution.
This one wasn't well done.
The pacing was abysmal.
The story was thin.
It was far too much padding for its absurd,
what, two hour and 15 minute runtime?
If you're a diehard Tolkien fan,
(31:29):
you might find just enough there to entertain you,
but as for me, who's a fan, yeah,
but not someone you're going to find
cosplaying Samwise Gamgee at DragonCon,
it's just a waste of a sawbuck in a Sunday afternoon.
Looking ahead, I do hope to watch Craven later this week
because apparently I'll have punishing myself with bad films,
but I did also balance the scales today
(31:49):
by purchasing Anora on streaming,
which is a critically acclaimed reel
that's getting quite a bit of buzz right now.
So stay tuned.
I'll share my thoughts on those and any other films
I might manage to catch right here on Shelfless Endeavors.
For now, let's just move into our final segment,
Shelf Esteem.
Enough digressions, distractions, and disenchantments.
Let's stick this film on a shelf.
For those unfamiliar or in need of a refresher,
(32:10):
there are five shelves on my DVD curio.
I use the bartender's model, the best stuff on the top shelf,
rot gut on the bottom shelf,
and then there's second shelf, middle shelf,
and fourth shelf in between.
I should also stress that while my personal opinions
play a role, I don't only consider
my own tastes and preferences.
I try to factor in broader public appeal.
If I didn't, there'd be no elf on my shelf.
(32:31):
I'd toss it in the backyard where it's saccharine fumes
would send the raccoons fleeing faster
than a hug from Buddy, but it's not just about me.
I know a lot of people love this flick
and good for you.
Watch it, re-watch it, make it a holiday tradition.
As for me, when my son visits next week,
I'm gonna insist he take this DVD back with him.
And if he doesn't want that nostalgia,
(32:52):
I'll find someone, maybe a cousin with small kids,
who'll treasure it and appreciate it
in ways I simply cannot.
So yeah, literally this film won't be shelfed
in my curio any longer.
Metaphorically though, I'm placing it on
the fourth shelf.
Fourth shelf.
By definition, fourth shelf is for films
(33:12):
that may have significant flaws
or only appeal to specific tastes.
Watch if you're interested or a fan of the genre.
So if you love Christmas films, children's films,
films that lean fully into rose-colored earnestness
with zero cynicism, this one's for you.
If you adore Will Ferrell, well,
you can't say he isn't fully committed as Buddy,
so you might like this film for that reason.
(33:34):
But for the rest of you, I mean,
even if you get a little dose of holiday spirit
and want that reflected in your entertainment,
there are literally 100 other Christmas films
you could watch.
And that's coming from a guy who, for the most part,
dislikes Christmas movies.
Doing these podcasts started out as a curiosity,
grew into a hobby, and now it's somewhat
of a labor of love.
A large part of what keeps me doing it
(33:55):
is seeing how many people across the nation
and across the globe, for that matter, are listening.
Seriously, I'm kinda like David Hasselhoff.
I'm big in Europe.
That or a lot of you use VPNs,
but I'm gonna go with the former.
It does go down as a line on my CV, believe it or not,
or at least that's what my department chair tells me.
I guess that makes sense.
I mean, Real Lit is certainly semi-academic.
This podcast is probably more quasi-academic,
(34:18):
but hey, if I can call it an alternative
to the grind and difficulty of publishing
in peer-reviewed journals, then I'm gonna take it.
I say all that to say, there's some work
that goes into this.
Couple hours usually to watch the film,
a bit to review my notes,
a few more hours to jot down the outline on the script,
then there's recording it,
and then at least a couple of hours,
maybe three, to cut out my bloopers
and the 7,000 times an episode,
(34:39):
I say, um, what, do you think I was just naturally
this articulate?
Even with bad films, there's joy to be had,
but honestly, this episode was just work.
So I'm treating myself next time,
a film I genuinely love.
Some call it non-traditional.
I call it, as Christmas is,
Frosty the Snowman or White Christmas.
It just happens to also have fanged reptilian critters
(35:01):
wreaking havoc on a small community.
I'm about to reignite my own bout of nostalgia,
as well as my childhood crush on Phoebe Cates,
mine and every other man of a certain age,
with a 1984 Joe Dante film, Gremlins.
The film is currently streaming on Macs,
as well as playing on HBO and Cinemax,
if you're a boomer who thinks streaming
is what you used to be able to do
before your pesky prostate started acting up.
(35:22):
If you do watch it and wanna talk about any points,
feel free to shoot me an email at steven at shelfcriticism.com.
That's S-T-E-P-H-E-N.
You can also find the podcast on Facebook
at Shelf Criticism.
And don't forget about my other podcast, Real Lit,
where I'm joined by my colleague, the phenomenal McKenzie.
You can find that just about anywhere
you get your podcast fix,
as well as our official website, reallitpodcast.com,
(35:44):
and on social media at reallitpodcast.
Remember, that's R-E-E-L, as in a film reel.
This Saturday, December 21st,
she and I will be in the studio
recording the Christmas episode for that show.
Speaking of non-traditional Christmas films,
or if you're like McKenzie and just flat out wrong,
not a Christmas film at all, we'll be debating,
and I will be winning, the inclusion of Die Hard
(36:05):
into the Christmas movie pantheon.
And yes, it is based off a book,
Roderick Thorpe's 1979 novel, Nothing Lasts Forever,
of which I'm only currently on chapter two of,
so I need to shut up and get to turning those pages,
don't I?
Until next time, DVD aficionados,
remember to treat yourself
to a little shelf indulgence of your own.
Amelia, sing us home.
(36:26):
["Self Criticism"]
Self Criticism is an Owls of Palace production.
This podcast is in no way connected
with the educational institutions the host is employed by.
(36:46):
The opinions expressed herein are solely those of the host
and do not necessarily reflect the views
of any other organization with which he is affiliated.
Most images displayed are public domain.
Images and stills from films, descriptions of scenes,
and passages from books are used for educational
and critical purposes and not for profit,
and therefore fall under the terms of fair use.
["Self Criticism"]
(37:17):
Who sent this Christmas gram?
What's a Christmas gram? I want one.
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