I have what internet jive turkeys call a "hot take" for you clowns: How the Grinch Stole Christmas is the best movie of the entire holiday catalogue. Obviously, I'm removing all Kwanzaa films from the running here because there are none and "Maulana Karenga," the asshole who founded that abomination in the '60s, is a brazen racist who believes that blacks need to regard Jesus and Christianity as "psychotic" in order to prepare for the "violent revolution" in which all white people are to be destroyed. Hey, Ronald, on behalf of myself and my psycho pals, why don't you light your seven made-up candles real nice and bright and go screw yourself with them?
Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that "Maulana" is actually just a common goon named Ronald, but like so many other losers who are desperate for attention, he gave himself an ethnic nickname during college to appear more interesting. Then, after inventing that hateful charade of a holiday that was somehow adopted by dummies all across the country, he kidnapped and tortured a couple of women during the '70s! This is all true, I implore you to look it up and then act accordingly.
But hey, let's not allow a pathetic douchebag named Ronald who has all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile to distract us from the main point here. In terms of Grinch flicks, I understand that many folks prefer the 1966 half hour How the Grinch Stole Christmas! with Boris Karloff and an exclamation point, and there are certainly a few Gen-Z twinks out there who enjoy the computer-animated Benedict Bumbershoot version that the Minions company crapped out a couple years ago. I recognize that those people exist.
At Christmastime, the pious strive to practice the peace and understanding that our psychotic Father taught us, but instead, I'm going all Kwanzaa on your honkey asses to assert that those people are dead wrong. The Jim Carrey masterpiece from 2000 anno Domini (that means "in the year of our Lord," Ronald) is far superior, even though it only has a 49% on Rotten Tomatoes because apparently 51% of reviewers are Boris Karloff, exclamation points, and Benbedick Bumberbum.
Not only is The Grinch superior to the other Grinch movies - it's superior to EVERY Christmas movie. Maybe even every movie ever, but that's a different discussion that you guys aren't ready for. Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of Yuletide classics - I was considering listing them, but that's way too tedious and you don't want to read that so I will only mention Fred Claus. You got a problem with Fred Claus? Didn't think so, Kevin Spacey. Because he's the villain in Fred Claus and also in real life.
Despite the robust competition, The Grinch remains steadfastly atop my list because it makes me laugh like the big man himself (referring to Santa in this context, not Kwanzaa Ron's made-up whatever God). Fred Claus comes in a close second, of course. What, you want to fight about it, Kevin Spacey? You allegedly gay, 5'-5" loudmouth pedophile? Again, didn't think so. I realize that based on what you've seen on this website and even in this paragraph, you probably think I'm about as funny as Joseph Stalin, so you may not value my opinion on the subject of humor. If that's the case, I will deal with you the way that Jojo dealt with the Bolsheviks. I don't know how Stalin fits into this narrative either, but I'll figure it out.
I find myself saying lines from The Grinch all year round. Like, daily - nearly as often as I quote Stalin. There it is, I think that works as a full circle Stalin tie-in. Becky claims that she can judge my mood based on how frequently I say things like "7:00, wrestle with my self-loathing," or "Hate, hate, hate. Hate, hate, hate. Double hate. Loathe entirely!" and "If you utter so much as one syllable, I'll hunt you down and gut you like a fish!" but what she doesn't realize is that I'm not doing Grinch quotes. Wrongo. That is the involuntarily vocalization of my overwhelming disdain for her, in which I stew 24/7. But she's a nice kid...baaaaaaaad judge of character.
I've read that Eddie Murphy and Jack Nicholson nearly signed on to portray the Curmudgeon of Crumpit, but I cannot see them morphing into the raving, deranged, rubber-boned demon that we've all come to adore. It is painfully obvious that Jim Carrey was destined to play that role and we are so fortunate that the movie came out before the bleeding hearts of the world united because they could never cast a white dude as The Grinch now without rampant, baseless accusations of "doing greenface" or "appropriating green culture." Just wait until they see how many times I've done "browntrousers."
Jimbo clearly stole the show, but when you've got Jeffrey Tambor and Molly Shannon playing second fiddle, you're going to have a damn good orchestra. I am aware that there are no fiddles in orchestras, but I have written several strongly-worded letters to the Buffalo Philharmonic and will not rest until fiddles are included and no longer resigned to second fiddle. In an ideal world, this is where I would insert the Loony Tunes theme song to really punch that dumb joke, but we do not yet have the technology.
I'd also like to remind everyone that Christine Baranski, or Martha May Whovier, is a proud Buffalo-Polish gal. Do you guys remember that scene in which she fires Christmas lights onto her house with some Seussian cannon contraption and then blows the smoke out of the barrel? I sure do. It's been seared into my brain because I think it triggered my puberty. Other notable performances include Ron Howard's disturbed brother, and Kelley, the most talented pup in the world, who plays Max. I think I made an audible squealing sound when I saw that he was given official acting credit and I hope they gave him the proper, SAG-required noggin pats.
If you're a cinema nerd and care about things like character development, consider how illuminating this movie is in terms of what we learned about The Grinch. Previously, all we knew was that he was a green, furry grump in a world of non-green-furry-grumps and were left to wonder why. Why is Mr. Grinch such a mean one? Now we know definitively that it is because he was raised by a couple of lesbians. That's just a joke, relax. You're more sensitive than someone who grew up with lesbian parents.
Even beyond the Grinch, the whole Wubbulous World of Whoville was brought to life before our eyes for the first time. Anthony Hopkins told us that the town is located on a snowflake, like the one on your sleeve, we witnessed the severity of the flaws in their mail system, and we are now certain that Martha May was kind of a tart since elementary school. And in a stunning bit of social commentary, we found that the meanest kid in school become the top local politician. Insert your own political joke here, I don't care because the whole system is broken so eff it.
Let's talk about the Red Rascal for a minute: I believe this to be Ron Howard's finest hour. This is his triumph. When he dies of baldness in a few years, people will remember him for his work on The Grinch. "What about Apollo 13, the true story of of America's bravest blah blah blah," is what you're griping about right now to the screen of your teal, translucent desktop Macintosh computer from 2004 while you don't read this, I assume. Well zip it because The Grinch won a freaking Academy Award and was nominated for two more. I'm seeing now that Apollo 13 won two and was nominated for nine. And A Beautiful Mind got four and was up for eight. That's too many - those movies were his sellout phase. The Grinch is his passion project and you know it. Yes, I made up the "Red Rascal" nickname and I really hope that it catches on.
To prove that I can be unbiased and disparaging toward my favorite movie, I will admit that the Faith Hill song that was ham-fisted into the first act, "Where Are You, Christmas?" has always inexplicably made my cousin Erin furious, so I will stand with her in solidarity and condemn it. Erin used to refuse to be in the room if that scene was on and for today and in this context only, #ImWithHer. Also, I have no idea where act breaks actually are, but you don't know that I don't know that. You'll be convinced that I'm correct purely on account of my confidence.
There is a happy ending for the girl who played Cindy Lou Who, to Erin's dismay. She miraculously recovered from that potentially career-killing scene by going on to found The Pretty Reckless. Not my or anyone's favorite band, though they're much more successful than, say, The Waffles (lakedefect.com/thewaffles), but at least the Waffles had the guts to put a spotlight on a difficult subject that no other musician would acknowledge by trying to teach children how to brush their hair. That's two posts in a row with surprise plugs. Is it from desperation or for the love of the craft? I have no idea, but you don't know that I don't know that. Anyway, the rest of the film's soundtrack was salvaged by the fact that they got Smash Mouth to contribute. Smash Mouth, you guys! "All Star!" "Walkin' on the Sun!" "Shrek Soundtrack!" R.I.P.
I think this is likely the most words that anyone has ever written about the Grinch, other than the Whoville law firm, Whoberg, Whoberg, and Whoberg, in preparation for their suit against the the Grinch for stealing everyone's presents. I should stop here so I don't get dragged into that notoriously litigious community or end up on the naughty list. Kwanzaa Ron, you're going to hell. Grinch director Ron, you're going to be inducted into the "Grinch Hall of Fame," which is why I am writing to you today - we need a LOT of funding to establish the "Grinch Hall of Fame."
Who wants the gizzard?