I know. I am very weird. It’s one of the few things Arnie and I disagree on.
But I really really can’t stand this movie, for the same reason I can’t handle most sit-coms: loud, troublemaking boys yelling at each other, getting into all kinds of pointless, perfectly avoidable trouble, plus a dad you just want to pound to death while he sleeps.
I didn’t like other kids when I was a kid; I don’t want to spend two more hours with them now that I don’t have to.
I much prefer Alistair Sim’s Scrooge — right up to the minute he turns all lame-o at the end, of course.
What can I say? My idea of a chick flick is The Night Porter…
PS: The director of A Christmas Story was killed (along with his little boy) by an illegal alien drunk driver. In honor of Bob Clark, every fan of this movie should drive down to Home Depot on December 24 and trick a Mexican into licking a pole.
