As a man of grace and refinement (and modesty), I’m reluctant to take shots at Kirk Cameron’s easy-target low-budget Bible school movies—but, my God, does Saving Christmas suck reindeer balls. If making bad movies was a sin, Kirk Cameron would be Anton LaVey. His Christmas movie is so bad that you can’t ignore it. You need to talk about it. Go into the world and speak of its wooden acting and eye-scorching dance number to every creature. On the Bad Movie Highway, Cameron and company have erected a stunning roadside attraction. If you travel that way, I recommend a stop and a gawk.
It’s the movie that shows how it’s possible to make Plan 9 From Outer Space without the shoddy production values. This digital affair is as well-lit and competently edited as any Subaru commercial, Taylor Swift video or episode of Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. It’s got a few rough moments, but it’s professional enough. Someone here took a film class or at least read the manual for the camera.
No, where this movie crashes like a fat guy thrown off a mechanical bull is that it’s HEAVY-HANDED in the classic Ed Wood way. It’s all message, no story, no characters. What Glen or Glenda is to cross-dressing, this is to the true meaning of Christmas. Hanging from the thinnest thread of a narrative, this movie amounts to a series of lectures from Kirk Cameron about how it’s okay for modern day Christians to revere Jesus Christ AND also love presents and Rudolph and Frosty and all that crap. No guilt, no muss, no fuss.
The plot: Kirk Cameron is at his sister’s Christmas party in an opulent home worthy of Jay-Z. The place is over the top with holiday cheer. Huge tree. Music. Guy in a Santa suit. Treats and tinsel everywhere. Lots of kids. It’s the perfect spot to wear a really stupid sweater. It’s all jingle bells and joy to the world with ONE problem: Kirk’s brother-in-law is outside in the driveway brooding alone like he’s just murdered his mistress. Turns out he thinks that mainstream Christmas traditions are a betrayal of Godly values. He thinks everyone should be singing hymns and fawning over Nativity scenes. Kirk goes out, friendly as can be, and explains to this stick-in-the-mud how Christmas trees and Santa Claus are more consistent with Christianity than we all think. Dramatizations of Biblical scenes and the story of Saint Nicholas follow with Cameron’s wide-eyed narration on top. The in-law’s mind is predictably blown by the revelations.
At this point, there’s about twenty more minutes of the movie left to go and no one here can figure out how to end it, so—what the hell, why not?—it’s time for the DANCE SCENE! (It’s not like they can resort to sex or violence like everyone else who makes movies does.) The producers have a hip-hop version of “Angels We Have Heard on High” and they’re gonna use it. And who cares if they can’t afford a choreographer? Kirk knows someone who went to dance class in middle school and will teach what moves they can remember to the cast for $50.
Let’s also not forget the slow-motion effects! Director Darren Doane loves slow-motion almost as much he loves Jesus. He uses it all over the place. There’s so much slow-motion here that you’ll think your DVD is defective. Even some of the dancing is in slow-motion. This is a movie that strains, stretches and ACHES its way to a cool seventy-nine minute run-time.
And we ache right along with it.