No one asked for it. There was NO Internet or Facebook campaign. Not even a gauche Kickstarter account to make it happen. But here we are, looking at the trailer for A Christmas Story 2 in all its anger-inducing, fever-dream glory.
We all love the original film, full of veiled cursing, childhood foibles and great period touches, like kids sitting around a radio and listening to their favorite program. And of course, the pent-up sexual tension radiating from Melinda Dillon.
The trailer for A Christmas Story 2 made me drink alone the night I first saw it -- and I only drink at concerts or at bars with friends. I actually poured myself a tall shot of Jameson and downed it as my laptop sat smoldering in the corner of the living room. I hope my warranty covers A Christmas Story 2.
Why does teen Ralphie have to wear a wig? How can Daniel Stern ever top the seething ex-doughboy rage of Darren McGavin as The Old Man?
The good news is that this depravity of man is going straight to the home market and won't touch the movie theaters. I am sure that theater owners are breathing a sigh of relief.
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Why are the producers and actors hate-fucking such a sweet and noble product with a sequel. What Arab prince threw money behind this? Who benefits? Follow the money, RON PAUL 2012.
But I digress.
This sequel makes no sense. As much I loved these characters in the 1983 original, I don't give a flying fuck what happened to them after the first film was over. Ralphie probably died in the Korean War or World War II, his face blown off by mortar fire.