It took four writers to bang out Four Christmases’
high-concept plot, which centers on the three-years-strong unmarried
union of lovey-dovey yuppies Brad (Vince Vaughn) and Kate (Reese
Witherspoon), both blissfully cohabitating in one of San Francisco’s
swankiest apartments. Because the self-absorbed pair can’t stand their
divorced parents—they’re afraid that they might turn out just like
them—Brad and Kate spend the holidays vacationing at far-away locales,
while concocting wild excuses for their absence (like they’re
inoculating babies in Burma) instead of fessing up to scuba dives in
Fiji. “You can’t spell families without ‘lies,’” Brad rationalizes, a
phrase that becomes repeated throughout as a mantra in the script by
Matt R. Allen, Caleb Wilson, Jon Lucas and Scott Moore.
Cruel yule: Reese Witherspoon in Four Christmases.
When a foggy airport dashes hopes of a
scenic getaway, and the parents discover that Brad and Kate are unable
to leave, they have little choice but to hang out with all four in-laws
for holiday festivities during a single day. In case things get too
insane, however, Brad and Kate make a vow to utter the word “mistletoe”
as the signal that it’s time to escape the parent trap.
The writers lard on the outrageousness
with each successive episode, although it’s hard to top this movie’s
opening parental salvo: Redneck goober humor abounds in the visit to
Brad’s estranged pop Howard (Robert Duvall), with the merriment further
enhanced by Brad’s lunkhead tag-team wrasslin’ brothers Denver (Iron Man
director and occasional actor Jon Favreau) and Dallas (country singer
and occasional actor Tim McGraw), both dubbed by Brad as “dude
cockfighters.”
Also checking in along the episodic way:
Mary Steenburgen as Kate’s mother Marilyn, now a holy roller transfixed
by the spiritual salvation of Pastor Phil (country singer and
occasional actor Dwight Yoakam), and Brad’s spaced-out mom Paula (Sissy
Spacek), who has married a much younger man who turns out to be, well,
that’s one of the few clever surprises to be discovered in this
ho-ho-hummer. By the time Four Christmases lurches to the final
family reunion with Kate’s daddy Creighton (Jon Voight), the writers
seem to have run out of stereotypes to riff on because Creighton is
this movie’s most well-adjusted adult—although some viewers may
free-associate regarding Voight’s off-camera right-wing stance and
proclaim him the nuttiest of the bunch.
The script offers unlikely comic setups
instead of anything that resembles character development, evident from
the get-go when a plot contrivance shows Kate and Brad getting their
kicks with role-playing sex games. (Although this is Vaughn’s second
holiday-themed movie in two years, parents should realize that Four Christmases isn’t remotely as family-friendly as Fred Claus.)
The yuletide vignettes also serve as an excuse to both unlock unlikely
family secrets, such as Kate’s fear of inflatable playhouses (called
“jump-jumps” in this opus), as well as putting our likable leads into
ridiculous situations, particularly during Pastor Phil’s Christmas
pageant for his congregation, with Brad and Kate dragooned to portray
Joseph and Mary, at which point I started yelling, “Mistletoe!” The
movie’s thematic thrust, so to speak, is that even though Brad and Kate
know so little about each other’s past, because it is the holidays,
it’s OK to forgive, forget and, ultimately, boink.
Calling the shots is first-time feature director Seth Gordon, here parlaying his success with the video-game documentary The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters into big-time Hollywood productions. Despite the annoying script as a drawback, there’s nothing in Four Christmases
to suggest that he’s the next Preston Sturges or Blake Edwards, as many
scenes flatline when they should strive to be on the buoyant side; his
comic highlight is orchestrating a 9-month-old toddler’s head getting
whacked by a cupboard door. And the veteran players—more like extended
cameo appearances, actually—seem to be having more fun than the
audience, although it’s interesting to note Duvall’s career arc from To Kill a Mockingbird’s Boo Radley to Godfather consigliore Tom Hayden to this movie’s version of Pappy Yokum.
There are some amusing benefits with the
Mutt-and-Jeff pairing of its stars, as the physically imposing Vaughn
literally looms over Witherspoon’s sprite. Vaughn is still playing the
type of commitment-phobe that brought him early fame in 1996’s Swingers,
while Witherspoon handles Kate’s numerous indignities, like being on
the receiving end of projectile vomit, with affable aplomb. And as
Kate’s sometimes ditzy sis Courtney, effervescent spark plug Kristen
Chenoweth—now out of work following ABC’s cancellation of the TV series
Pushing Daisies—is appealing even when her character is weighed
down by top-heavy lactation jokes. By the way, executive producer and
former child actor Peter Billingsley pops up on screen briefly as an
airline ticket agent—and he might make Four Christmases moviegoers wish they were instead watching his Red Ryder-obsessed Ralphie in the 1983 classic A Christmas Story.
