I am disappointed in this threesome.

In the last few holiday seasons, there's been an alarming (and entirely unwelcome) trend threatening to make me swear off Christmas forever. No, not the ugly sweaters or freezing my nuts off to see some a-hole light a f--king tree in the town square. Those, it appears, I can actually suffer through. No, what really roasts my chestnuts is this idea that I, yes me, need to provide the absolute perfect f--king present for each one of my children...FROM EACH ONE OF THEIR GRANDPARENTS. 

How is this my responsibility? Don't they know I've got my own mostly blank list to deal with? Isn't it clear that I'm the one dealing with lights that don't work on a rickety-ass ladder that may or may not be able to hold me? And if I manage to find a spare minute in my increasingly shitty days...

...don't they know I've got terrible holiday movies to see?

You know we're in a bad spot when Susan Sarandon is the best part of the movie.

Once Home Alone and Elf have been watched (and re-watched), I'm pretty much all set with holiday movies. Mrs. Two Dollar Cinema, refuses to quit while we're ahead and scours the globe for other potential yule-tide cinematic traditions.  Turns out, the only thing seemingly taking place on an annual basis is that she falls asleep during some shitty film she hand selected. 

Cue the 2018 entry, A Bad Moms Christmas, the follow up to the mostly not-good 2016 flick, Bad Moms [review]. And also cue the deadly combo of my indifference and her exhaustion.

The sequel opens with the lovely Amy (Mila Kunis, sexy as always) amidst the tattered remains of what looks like a holiday party. She's alone, and the place is totally f--ked top to bottom. And I'm pretty sure a rented camel just walked through her living room. How we ended up here isn't a mystery (selfish a-holes doing dumb shit should just about cover it), but over the next 104 minutes she's unfortunately going to tell us how it all unfolded anyway. Here's the short version: Her mom is an absolute f--king psycho and pretty much everything wrong in the world is her doing.

While we could all probably give the merriest of f--ks about this movie, I feel compelled to let you in on something resembling a true Christmas miracle. No, I didn't go from living under a bridge in the park and talking to my pigeons to sharing a precious moment with a ten year old boy in the snow and rejoining society, but it was pretty damn close.

I'm pretty sure all ye faithful just came.

Shocking no one, I watched the first seventy-eight minutes of this film (mostly) by myself and I hated more than sixty-nine of them (you can't be entirely upset with Mila Kunis doing and saying things). Each lame joke was somehow even less funny than the one that preceded it, creating a true shitball effect of impossibly bad comedy. Honestly, it couldn't have been worse.

For whatever reason, when I regrettably cranked up the remaining twenty-six minutes the following evening (still alone, mind you), I absolutely adored it. Something had happened during the following day, and all of a sudden, my heart grew by three sizes. How else can you explain the fact that I was almost in tears at one point. The residents of Who-ville singing despite their troubles? Hearing the Christmas bells ringing in the distance? Early onset menopause?

Speaking of things that are (hopefully?) impossible, let's enjoy another round of the Yays and Boos, shall we? After this one I decided on revisiting two other holiday films this season (Die Hard and The Night Before [review]) and the results were decidedly/thankfully less...awkward.

Watch out for Santa's giant, red sack.

Yaaaaaaaaay!

• Amy's shit-regarding the holidays is spot on. F--k all that noise, indeed.
• The f--k Christmas hijinks are pretty much terrible, but I do have to support the stealing of the tree at Lady Foot Locker. That's shit is too random and awesome to not celebrate, you know? I mean, they put that f--ker up at their house.
• Kunis on a trampoline...in slo-mo? It's not a typo, Santa. That scene's on both of your lists.
• Susan Sarandon plays Isis. Yeah. Somebody thought that was funny. Anyway, as much as I'm done with her old slut song-and-dance, I have to support anybody whose moderate success is based on two things: wits and tits.
• Whoa, whoa, whoa. A game of dodgeball set to Kickstart my Heart? Has somebody been reading my sixth grade dream journal again?
• I know his name is Peter Gallagher. I know he's been in lots of stuff. But, guys. That's Sandy Cohen from the OC.
• Kelly Bundy has the right idea. Show up in this f--ker for thirty seconds, mention something about a broken dick on someone's face and roll the f--k out. Well played, X-tina.
• It's not a flute, bitch. Pretty much par for the course these days, but I still chuckled.
• And finally, the bit that really got me, the mother-daughter reconciliation near the end. It starts with Dad explaining the truth about mom (damn!), peaks with the worst apology ever (shit!), and then closes with some utter-truths dropped by Amy (f--k!), creating a couple of minutes that rival any sentimental scene in any holiday movie ever. I think it's fair to say that being a mom is hard f--king work, but so is being a daughter. And a son. And a husband. In a family. During the holidays. What really could have been a throwaway scene in a throwaway movie absolutely knocked me on my ass. This isn't what I signed up for, dammit...(but I loved it)

Ugh. The way you ladies will objectify someone of the opposite sex.
Shameful, really.

Boooooooooo!

• I know, I was surprised too. But that cute little girl in the bad R-rated movie? She curses like a longshoreman. Big f--king shocker, right?
• Sucky movie or not, anytime company shows up three days early? Yeah, that shit's a Boo.
• Kathryn Hahn is kinda funny, sure. But do we really have to crank her edginess to eleven? Like, did she have to wax vaginas for a living? Couldn't she just jump her motorcycle over a pool of sharks or something?
• As someone who knows a thing or two (or ten) about trying too hard to be funny, sweet f--k A Bad Moms Christmas - chill the f--k out. It's okay if someone isn't saying or doing the dumbest shit ever for more than thirty seconds. Your audience will hang in, I promise. *checks pageviews*
• Okay, I think I said this the last time, but...these chicks are complaining about all the shit they have to do...while making gingerbread houses together. And that was after getting lunch at the mall and going out for drinks. The f--k is this?
• The grandmothers are played by Susan Sarandon, Christine Baranski and Cheryl Hines. I'm not bullshitting you when I tell you, I'm pretty sure the last two are the same person.
• That handsome f--ker Ty Swindell shows up and I'm not sure what to make of it. His character is beyond f--king stupid...but he plays it so earnestly, I think I was a fan. But, uh, that said, f--k that (sexy) dude.
• Wanda Sykes should be dressed in red and attached to a f--king pole, as her appearance in a film usually indicates that something ain't right.
• Before I turned it off, I was convinced this the runtime could only be rivaled by the director's cut of Das Boot. Holy Hell, the clock wouldn't move.
• And finally, even though there was a bit of redemption in the end, in the film, the same couldn't be said for my wife's viewing of A Bad Moms Christmas. Both nights she passed out minutes in, leaving me there, alone, to watch something I had no desire to see (and therefore, write a f--king blog post for). Even worse, while I'm sitting there, irritated that she's asleep, again (like an asshole [me, not her]), the movie is 900% about how unappreciated and exhausted mom is during the holidays. Ohhhh, right. I see. This is fun, I'm having. 

About the whole present-thing, ultimately, I get it. No one wants to buy the thing that makes the wee ones weep, sure, but the fact that I have come up with another thing to buy my kids for someone else to give them is beyond f--king ridiculous. Getting a shitty present from your grandparents is as much a holiday tradition as Christmas carols, or egg nog, or sitting on what you hope is Santa's lap. Pretending you like the world's worst t-shirt (or a puzzle/science kit) builds character, you know, teaches you how to lie to the people you love the most. And that skill, that ability to not crush the feelings of someone that loves you, even though they've let you down?

Hell, that's the gift that keeps on giving.