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Writer's pictureGary Jive

Call Me Claus (2001) - Day 270, September 21st


Something I didn’t know before watching 2001’s Call Me Claus - if a new Santa isn’t chosen every 200 years, the polar ice caps will melt, plunging the planet into a Water World type scenario. So, no pressure then on cranky ol’ Whoopi Godlberg when the current Santa decides that she’s the one for the job.

 Lucy Collins (Goldberg) is a thriving but grumpy producer on  a home shopping channel who hires a mysterious but charming old fellow named Nick (Nigel Hawthrone) to play Santa on the network. She slowly grows to realise that he’s actually the real deal and is shocked to discover that he’s got her in his sights to take over.

 This deeply unpopular TV movie is another one I’d never heard of and with good reason - it’s not very good or funny. I mean, hats off to director Peter Werner for giving us a black, female Santa a whole twenty years ago but his film doesn't do much at all with the concept. This one also carries a depressing message, with Santa seemingly happy to be working on telly, flogging unnecessary tat to folk with more money than sense. Doesn’t seem very Christmassy.

 I find myself asking if Whoopi’s acting was always this bad, or if she just phoned this one in. This film also really bugs me as there's only so many times I can visit another cheap-looking Santa’s workshop or hear another soulful rendition of ‘O Holy Night’. I’ve definitely watched too many low-budget, sub-par Christmas films this year and it’s getting to me.

 Early scenes are promising, if grim, opening in 1965 with little Lucy visiting a shop Santa and asking for daddy to come home from ‘Nam, which he eventually does - in a coffin. Yikes. But before that, St Nick put his hat on her head and it glowed, which means she’s destined for great. Fast forward and she’s like a dialled back version of Bill Murray in Scrooged - she’s not quite stapling antlers to rodents' heads but could definitely use more pleases and thank yous. Of course, she now hates Christmas but when Nick visits her through an it-could-only-happen-in-the-movies misunderstanding, he gets a job and is surprised to find he loves it. He’s meant to be convincing Lucy to Santa but gets distracted by his unexpected enjoyment of his new role.

It’s all rather derivative - think Miracle on 34th Street meets Scrooged with a dash of The Santa Clause thrown in. It’s a shame, as Hawthorne makes an amiable, jolly Santa and steals the show through charm alone.  It’s another film that seemingly has all the right ingredients but can’t cook it up into something satisfying. Whoopi spends mos of the film being a moody, moany git, not giving us much reason to care for her, so when she transforms into a magical, white-dreadlocked do-gooder, none of it feels earned.

 I’m puzzled about who this film is aimed at, as it feels mostly like a kids’ film, yet has lots of curse words and some saucy sex references. This feels like a missed opportunity,as a black female Santa could be really interesting, if only they started with a good script. Still, I’m glad to have seen Hawthorne’s Santa, though I wish it could have been in a better film.



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