Jingle All The Way review

You're under 12? Then you probably just luurved Jingle All The Way, the loads-a-laffs Christmas movie from everyone's favourite six-foot-four Austrian comedy actor. If you intend seeing it (ie, if you're the type who doesn't take the decorations down until cuckoos call), here's the plot. Arnie's a bed salesman who's just too busy to spend quality time with his son. Determined to get little Jamie a Turbo Man action figure, he joins the countrywide Christmas Eve hunt for the most popular toy from the most popular kids' TV show of all time. Anything that can be tripped over is; any shelves that can be brought down are; there's a punch-up with evil Father Christmases; there's a tussle with a reindeer; and there's a slimy do-goodin' neighbour and his fat son. You'll love it.

But, ah, you're over 12? Well, Jingle contains none of those adult-pleasing jokes that make Disney so much fun to watch. The trite plot and squeamishly familiar characters teeter on the boring, the jokes and action are sparse, and instead of becoming the parody of consumer culture it promised to be, the film ends up celebrating a society where love is expressed by conspicuous consumption.

Much of the film is ill-judged, and the effects-heavy ending out of place in the context of what's gone before. For conclusive proof that Christmas as a family time is dead, look no further. Snowy angels come from high, urge you to go out and buy.