It’s Christmas in the 19th century Outback, full of beheadings, stabbings, floggings, rapes, more blood than you’re average torture porn, and an Irish hating John Hurt – man, the Aussies know how to celebrate baby Jesus’ birthday while keeping the Old Testament in mind. Lawman Ray Winstone gives outlaw Guy Pearce an ultimatum: hunt down and kill your evildoing older brother or your retarded younger brother hangs. This poetic western masterpiece tells a story brimming with biblical undertones and fittingly climaxes on Christmas in one of the harshest scenes put on celluloid in recent years. Yep, this is one for the whole family.
Christmas Message: The most efficient way to solve a holiday sibling feud is to shoot your brother in the gut.
What’s more fun on Christmas morning than watching some heroin-strung whore belly flop from a high-rise building to the tune of “Jingle Bell Rock”? How about Mel Gibson’s Christmas present for Gary Busey: a righteous ass beating on Danny Glover’s front lawn – it’s better than getting a Wii.
Christmas Message: “What did one shepherd say to the other shepherd? Let’s get the flock out of here!”
Billy Bob Thornton plays an anal-sex lovin’, foul-mouthed, pant-pissing alcoholic thief who poses as a department store Santa Claus as part of a robbery scheme. Need I say more? This is the new holiday classic.
Christmas Message: “Why don’t you wish in one hand, and shit in the other. See which one fills up first.”
I love the first Die Hard, but I’ll knife fight anyone anytime over my belief that not only is Die Hard 2 better, but it’s arguably the best straight, non Sci-fi shoot’em up action film ever made. Yeah, I said it. Wanna start something? It flaunts all of the best “Die Hard movie manufacturing parts” (with the exception of the black sidekick – that goes to Samuel L. Jackson in film number 3). And, my God, the film’s pace is relentless even by today’s CGI set-piece standards. Plus, I get a kick out of how Die Hard 2 plays as a sly parody of the action genre, yet hardly anyone ever notices this. Regardless, both films require mandatory December viewings in my household. Nothing spreads holiday cheer like knowing John McClane’s now got a machine gun, ho ho ho.
Christmas Message: Don’t fuck with John McClane’s Christmas plans, especially if you’re a bad guy.
