Hello again, and welcome back to the sixth installment of the Screengrab's trip through some beloved (and some not-so-beloved) holiday film fare, the 12 Days of Christmas Marathon. While, technically, the twelve days of Christmas extend all the way into January and culminate in Epiphany, I'm sure you'll all be too hung over by that point to be able to deal with any Christmas cheer. Plus, most of us will be back at work by January 6th, and we don't want to be the movie-blog equivalent of that one guy on your block who annoys the whole neighborhood by leaving his Christmas lights up long after the joy and wonder of the holiday has vanished. So we've got a lot of movies to get through in the next three days. Let's start with the 2003 Will Ferrell vehicle Elf, which is now general considered a canonical new-classic Xmas flick.
In the spirit of full disclosure, and to further reinforce my reputation as Bob Cratchit and Scrooge inhabiting a single body, I'll admit that, as big a sucker as I am for Christmas movies in general, I didn't think much of Elf when I first saw it in a theater. I was in a bit of a lousy mood at the time, but that doesn't alter the fact that there really is a lot to dislike here: the delicate balancing act between po-faced sincerity and winking, snarky sarcasm, for one thing, doesn't always work, and the movie's tone can come across as artificial. The pace is a bit manic, the premise is undersold, and Ferrell's performance is unneccessarily called upon to carry the entire movie, which is a shame, given that he's surrounded by tons of extremely capable actors. And Jon Favreau's direction can be charitably described as 'clunky'.
The story of Buddy, an orphan child who crawls into Santa's bag one lonely Christmas and ends up the only stranded human at the north pole, gets some early-running gags -- some predictable, others hilarious -- out of the notion of a normal child (especially one as hulking and clumsy as Ferrell) being raised among the elves. Not enough time is spent on this appealing notion, which is especially regrettable given that Buddy's father is played, in a rare screen appearance, by one of the absolute masters of awkward comedy in the person of Bob Newhart. But one of the appealing things about Elf, which becomes much more clear on repeat viewings, is how economical it is: it's constantly making a dollar out of a quarter, milking the script's gags for more than they're worth and making the most out of Ferrell's screen presence.
Indeed, I even surprised myself at how much more I liked Elf each additional time I saw it. It could be argued that I had allowed familiarity and comfort to stand in for quality, but I don't think that's necessarily the case here: a lot of the movie's strengths go beyond script and direction, and for the few wasted performances (there could have been so much more to the character of Buddy's real human father, especially when played by an actor as capable as James Caan), there's always a compensatory moment where an actor does the absolute best with what they're handed, such as Faizon Love, Ed Asner, Peter Dinklage's scene-stealing bits and Bob Newhart's determination to make even his somewhat pointless opening narration a thing of comedic beauty. And, of course, there's Zooey Deschanel, at maximum adorability.
Of course, some parts of it never get better, such as the occasional cloying moments, the overall 'off' feeling of the tonal quality, and the hammier bits of Ferrell's moon-faced performance -- whether those are the fault of the actor or the script they can be extremely grating. And Favreau's direction in his second full-length feature film never gets any better no matter how many times you watch it. But it's at least possible to watch Elf now as the work of a man who's learning his craft, not the work of a man who doesn't know or care about what he's doing. Elf will never be a great movie, or even a great holiday movie, but it's at least an appealing little Christmas tidbit, a tastly little morsel that goes down easy, and at worst, makes you feel slightly guilty that you're overindulging yourself so much on your vacation. 12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS RATING:
A respectable if undignified 7 swans-a-swimming. Its placement in the middle of the pack of my personal 12 days of Christmas marathon proved to be quite appropriate: it's neither the bottom-feeding camp-only tripe at the bottom or the transcendent art at the top, but merely a non-fattening treat to keep your energy up in the middle. Watch it in the late afternoon, unless you're an angry elf.
Related Posts:
The Screengrab's 12 Days of Christmas Marathon: Bad Santa
The Screengrab's 12 Days of Christmas Marathon: The Nightmare Before Christmas
