Santa Claus Is a Stinker
Directed by Jean-Marie Poiré
- comedy
The story
Two neurotics, working for a suicide hotline on the night of Christmas Eve, get caught up in a catastrophe when a pregnant woman, her abusive boyfriend, and a cross-dresser visit their office.
What it’s like
Mostly confined to a cramped suicide-hotline office on Christmas Eve, this French farce plays like a stage piece: small rooms, a handful of actors, doors opening and closing on a steady stream of arrivals. The look is flat and practical rather than cinematic, with the warm, tacky glow of a seasonal office and the clutter of a place nobody wants to be. Camera work stays simple and rooted, letting the performers' timing carry the scenes. The sound is chatter, telephones, and sudden bursts of commotion, with a light festive score underneath. The mood is deadpan and bleak-edged, the kind of black humor that treats despair and absurdity side by side, quick to undercut its own heaviness. Rhythm moves briskly through escalating mishaps, and the emotional register stays sardonic, with the two frazzled, neurotic workers reluctantly drawn into the chaos around them. Intensity runs moderate: suicide, domestic abuse, and a man in drag are played for laughs and talked about bluntly, with some physical slapstick and brief scuffles, but no gore. This suits viewers who enjoy caustic, talky comedy about unhappy people and don't need warmth or sentiment from their holiday films.
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