One Guy's Christmas Movie List

 thepilot.com

It’s Christmas week, folks, so let us put aside our political differences and get into heated arguments over the eggnog about something really important: Christmas movies.

You know how I love to create controversy, and if there’s any topic that’ll do it, this is the one. We all have our favorites; we all have the ones we love to hate. Here’s my own list.

1. Christmas Movie I Just Don’t Get: “Love Actually.”

I know quite a few people who will swear to you that this 2003 multi-plot-threaded rom-com is the greatest Christmas movie ever made. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that all of those people are female.

The movie certainly has a lot of eye candy for the female gender, what with having Colin Firth, Hugh Grant, Liam Neeson — even Alan Rickman before he got all creepy in the Harry Potter movies.

To be fair, for the fellows, we also have Kiera Knightley, Emma Thompson, and the hot blonde from “American Pie” and “Scary Movie.”

But when a movie starts off telling you how romantic airports are, you know you’re getting farther away from reality than even a romantic comedy can justify.

And I’m sorry, but it’s not even all that funny.

2. Christmas Movie That’s Not All It’s Cracked Up To Be: “A Christmas Story.”

Yeah, I said it. OK, Darren McGavin’s a hoot as the creatively profane dad who wins the lamp shaped like a lady’s leg, and I’ll grant you that “You’ll shoot your eye out, kid,” is a passably quotable catch phrase — barely.

But plotwise, the movie’s a mess, stitched together as it is from several short stories by Jean Shepherd. The Chinese restaurant scene is flat-out racist. And that Ralphie kid is just creepy to me.

3. Christmas Movie I Love Even Though a Lot of People Hate It: “Four Christmases.”

Anyone in a so-called “blended” family should be able to relate to this tale of an unmarried but committed couple (Vince Vaughn and Reese Witherspoon) who always leave the country for the holiday to avoid dealing with their eccentric parents, all of whom have divorced and started new lives.

However, when a historic fog grounds their flight and they end up being shown on the TV news story about stranded passengers, they find they can’t avoid spending a raucous holiday with each of their parents and their new families.

I love everything Robert Duvall’s ever been in, but his turn as Vaughn’s crusty, bitter father is one of his unsung gems — both hilarious and ultimately heartbreaking. Dwight Yoakam as the charismatic minister who inspires Vaughn to epic levels of overacting in the Nativity play is also not to be missed.

The movie got terrible reviews, but my friends and I get together and watch it every Christmas season if we can.

4. Flawed Christmas Movie That’s Still Destined to Be a Classic: “Elf.”

Hijinks ensue when Buddy, a human child raised by Santa’s elves, decides to return to the big city to find his birth father.

Will Ferrell plays yet another version of his hyperactive man-child character, and the whole “Central Park Rangers” plot feels like a tacked-on attempt to generate menace with a ripoff of the nasty black horsemen from the “Lord of the Rings” movies.

But the character of Papa Elf is Bob Newhart at his deadpan best, and I defy you not to get all misty when the entire city of New York, including a bar full of bikers, joins together to refuel Santa’s sleigh with Christmas spirit by singing “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town,” led in song by the just-plumb-adorable Zooey Deschanel.

5. The Greatest Christmas Movie of All Time, The One By Which All Others Are Measured and Found Wanting: “Die Hard.”

I really don’t see how anyone can argue with this. It’s the story of a man willing to risk everything and overcome impossible odds, just so he can “get together, have a few laughs” with his family at the holiday season. I mean, really, how heartwarming can you get? …

So that’s the list. Let the arguments begin! But play nice. After all, it’s Christmas.

PUBLISHER'S WEEKLY LIKES ICE CHEST, TOO!

 Ice Chest by J.D. Rhoades

In this winning caper novel from Rhoades (Devils and Dust and three other Jack Keller mysteries), the Enigma agency’s top model, Clarissa Cartwright, and her entourage fly from New York City to Atlanta, where she’s due to wear a jewel-encrusted bra known as the Ice Chest at a fashion show. Chunk McNeill, a former New York cop, and Zoe Piper, a whiz at using computers to gather intel, lead the team providing security, while Hermione Starr manages the flock of Enigma’s underwear models. Meanwhile, crooks Rafe Valentine, L.B. Gordon, and their associates aim to snatch Clarissa and her multimillion-dollar brassiere with the aid of Branson Suggs, Rafe’s rather naïve nephew. Also watching Clarissa is Aldo “the Moose” Cantone, a henchman of an ex-boyfriend of hers, Mario Allegretti, who just can’t accept her leaving him. The grab is made, and that’s when the fun really begins. Chunk and Zoe want to save the innocents, Rafe and L.B. want to get paid, and Mario wants to kill anyone who has touched “his girl.” Other zany characters keep the plot twisting.

GREAT BOOKLIST REVIEW FOR ICE CHEST!

Bill Ott at Booklist seems kinda relieved about ICE CHEST: 


Fans can’t be blamed for their furrowed brows when a favorite author decides to change styles. So when action-maestro Rhoades turns away from flawed noir heroes and nonstop overdrive to try his hand at a wacky, Elmore Leonard–style caper novel, well, we can’t help but worry. 

No need, as it turns out. There’s  just enough edge in this gang-who-couldn’t-shoot-straight heist tale to remind us that blood is only an itchy trigger finger away, but connected to those trembling digits are some of the goofiest, oddly sympathetic characters since Brad Smith rigged a horse race in All Hat (2003). The bad guys, including twins who happen to be eunuchs (long story) and a ringleader whose outsize vocabulary has led to delusions of grandeur, plan to kidnap a supermodel who will be wearing a bra studded with $5 million in jewels. On the other side of the scrimmage line are the security chief for the lingerie company; his punky, computer-wizard assistant; and the model’s chaperone, who has some special skills of her own. Oh, and there’s the supermodel’s jealous, mobbed-up boyfriend, too. 

The thing is, every one of these characters could star in his or her own thriller—well, except maybe the eunuchs—and together they comprise an ensemble that delivers nonstop entertainment. Does Rhoades do comic caper novels better than he does high-octane thrillers? Too close to call. 

Thanks, Bill! I think I'm going to add "action-maestro" to my business card.  

Dispatches From the Lunatic Gun-Humping Fringe

In response to the latest column, a frequent commenter had this to say:

So Dusty, can you tell me what "high powered" weapons were used please since I haven't read what they were???? Or do you even know? Can I presume that you will tell me that they used "high powered assault weapons"?? That would be a lie of course and I expect Mr. Nagy would not approve of you lying, right? So would you please answer my question? I'll thank you in advance. This is Frank, of course, and I'm sure you remember me. Merry Christmas, Dusty.

This commenter, who goes by the online handle of "skylinefirepest" , is actually a gun-humping lunatic named Frank Staples (he's actually proudly used his real name in the comments once or twice, so i give him credit for at least that much).

One of Frank's many deranged obsessions is making sure that no one in print calls an AR-15 or other long gun used in a murder an "assault rifle." I'm not sure why this particular bug is so far up Frank's ass, but you'll notice that he's so hung up on it that he feels compelled to make an angry denunciation of a term I have not used. 

Frank also knows that I'm barred from responding, but that doesn't stop him from demanding answers from me in the comments section. Whether or not this makes him an asshole is left to the reader. 

Difficult Problem, Bad Solutions

thepilot.com

The Dec. 2 murders of 14 people in San Bernardino, Calif., and the Nov. 14 killings of three people, including a police officer, at a Planned Parenthood clinic in Colorado Springs are chilling examples of the kind of terrorism that seems the most impossible to prevent.

Both were murderous rampages by people who, for the moment, can’t be tied to a specific directive or widespread plot from any particular organization. Instead, what we seem to have here are deranged individuals with nearly unlimited access to high-powered weapons and enraged by inflammatory rhetoric that tells them who the enemies of God are.

It’s hard to imagine how such a plot might be disrupted. Specific plans and instructions from an organization might be intercepted, or members of the conspiracy might have an attack of conscience or otherwise be turned to inform on and break up the plan.

It happens all the time. But how do you find out about a plot that festers in someone’s living room or in some primitive hut on a North Carolina mountainside, under the radar of everyone, including even the killers’ families in the case of the San Bernardino attack?

A difficult problem, to be sure. So, of course, you can count on our politicians to come up with totally wrong solutions.

Take, for example, Donald Trump. The current Republican front-runner has suggested that the solution is to just bar all Muslims from coming to the U.S., until, and I quote, “our country’s representatives can figure out what is going on.” This apparently includes Muslim-Americans, born in this country and therefore citizens, who are out of the U.S. when Trump’s Super Huge and Classy Iron Curtain comes down.

OK, let’s just address one thing right off the bat. If you’re going to use as your end date some mythical time when “our country's representatives can figure out what is going on,” then you might as well go ahead and say “forever.”

But the biggest problem with The Donald’s latest brain-spew is … well, let’s let another famous Republican explain it: “I think this whole notion that somehow we can just say, ‘No more Muslims,’ and just ban a whole religion, goes against everything we stand for and believe in.”

You know who said that? The Dark Prince himself, Dick Cheney. Let me tell you something, folks: When even Dick Cheney tells you you’ve gone too far, you need to slow your roll. It’s like having Keith Richards and Axl Rose do an intervention to tell you you’re doing too many drugs.

In any case, Cheney is right. The idea that we deny people, even American citizens, rights based on religion is not only repugnant, but it also violates the U.S. Constitution that Trump and people like him claim to revere, even as they trample all over it.

And, of course, nothing in the Trump proposal would have done a thing to stop Robert Dear, the Planned Parenthood terrorist. Remember him? Everyone else, including the so-called liberal media, seems to have forgotten.

Unfortunately, The Donald is not the only one with a bad idea to thwart so-called “lone wolf” terrorism. President Obama, apparently frustrated by the inability of Congress to even provide for expanded background checks for prospective gun buyers, suggested that maybe we can at least bar people on the TSA’s “no-fly” list from owning firearms.

Now, on the surface, this makes sense. I mean, if you can’t even get on a plane because you’re a suspected terrorist, you shouldn’t be able to own a gun, right? There’s only one problem. For years, the “no fly” list (actually several lists) has been a fiasco, a Kafkaesque nightmare where people are pulled out of line by security, subjected to “enhanced” searches and interrogation, and even denied flights for reasons which no one can or will explain.

Those people include a pilot told he couldn’t board the plane he was supposed to fly, a former U.S. attorney with a “top secret” clearance, and a 5-year-old child, all of whom have names similar to people on the list. Maybe if the various watch lists could be fixed, they might serve as an indicator of who shouldn’t own guns, but since it’s illegal to even reveal who’s actually on them, I don’t see that happening.

The “lone wolf” terrorist problem isn’t going to be solved by simplistic solutions. It’s certainly not going to get solved by fomenting more hate and fear, whether that be against Muslims or against women’s health providers falsely accused of “selling baby parts.” You can’t legislate that, and you can’t control the hate and fear spewed by radicals. But you can call on the people who want your votes to avoid adding to it.

Excerpts From Santa's Mailbag

 Opinion | thepilot.com

It’s that time of year again — the time when we dip into some leaked selections from Santa’s mailbag:

Dear Santa:

It’s been a really scary year, what with attacks on Paris and ISIS killing all those people in the Middle East and everything. So we’ve decided that the only thing to do as the governing body of the greatest country in the world is run away from the world, turn our backs on people in need, and hide under our beds.

Problem is, Santa, we’re not as young as we used to be, and some of us have put on a little weight. So what we’d like are higher beds to hide under.

— The U.S. Congress

Note to staff: Please arrange to have all of these fraidy cats receive a Bible with the passages about “for I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me,” etc., underlined. Thanks.

Note to Santa: We’re on it, boss. By the way, those ISIS guys sent a letter. Said they knew they were on the permanent naughty list, but they didn’t care, because the Americans were giving them everything they wanted anyway. Man, those guys have more loose screws than an Erector Set.

Dear Santa:

I know you’d probably think I don’t need anything, because I’m very, very rich. I’m super-rich, in fact, and the reason is because I’m also the smartest person you or anyone else has ever met. Not only that, everybody loves me. People can’t wait to tell me what a great guy I am. Oh, and I have a daughter so hot, I’d date her if I wasn’t her dad.

But there is one thing you can get for me. I know there’s a tape somewhere of thousands and thousands of Muslims cheering in New Jersey as the Twin Towers fell on 9/11. Problem is, no one can seem to find it. Everybody tells me that I’m making it up, but I can’t be, because I have the world’s greatest memory.

So rustle that recording up for me, will you? Chop chop, fat boy. I haven’t got all day.

— Donald, New York City

Note to staff: I don’t know what kind of meds it’s going to take to stabilize Donny, but order him up a truckload.

Dear Santa:

I know we’re getting close to Christmas, and you really need my wish list, but all the polling data isn’t in yet on what I should want, and some of my advisers haven’t gotten back from their Thanksgiving break ski trips to let me know what gift requests will play best in Iowa and New Hampshire. So I’m going to have to get back to you.

— Hillary, Chappaqua, New York

Note to staff: I know this letter should probably disturb me, but I find it kind of charming that she apparently sat down and hand-wrote it.

Note to Santa: C’mon, boss, you think she’s going anywhere near an email account these days?

Dear Santa:

I don’t want much. I just want people to know who I am, and that I’m still running for president.

— Jim, Richmond, Virginia

Note to staff: I hate to admit it, but I made my list, and I’ve checked it twice, and I still have no idea who this guy is.

Note to Santa: Jim Gilmore. Used to be governor of Virginia. And don’t worry, no one else knows him either.

Dear Santa:

I don’t want anything for myself. Really. But I want everyone to have free public college tuition. And a single payer health plan that will ensure that no person has to worry about going bankrupt if they get sick. And a living wage for everyone, because no one who’s working full time should be living in poverty. I don’t think this is too much to ask.

— Bernie, Burlington, Vermont

Note to staff: Who does this guy think he is? Me? Ho ho ho.

Note to Santa: Actually, boss, the other elves and I have been meaning to talk to you about the whole wage thing. Look, I like sugarplums as much as the next elf, but you can’t buy stuff with them. Not to mention that our diabetes risk is through the roof these days. Even Henry Ford said he wanted his workers to earn enough wages to buy the cars they made for him. You see where I’m going with this?

— Hermie

Note to staff: The unemployment line?

Note to Santa: Oh, right. You going to load the sleigh yourself? The reindeer are backing us up on this, by the way.

Note to staff: OK, OK. We’ll talk. After Christmas?

Note to Santa: It’s a date. Merry Christmas, boss.