Dr. Strangefilm Case #009: Santa Claus

12.24.09 | Dr. Strangefilm | From the Files of Dr. Strangefilm...Print this Post

Tags: christmas movies

Let's see...they've both been a part of Western, if not worldwide, folklore for centuries. They both have their fervent supporters, as well as detractors who swear they don't exist. Both seem to be able to know a person's innermost dreams and desires, favor a lot of red in their fashion sense, and like to live in places set in the most extreme of temperatures. Oh, and while they each go by many names, their most popular ones are anagrams.

With all these shared characteristics, you'd think that Santa and Satan would be the best of buddies, wouldn't you? Okay, you really wouldn't, but it does add a fascinating new dimension to one of the Baby Boom generation's most twisted movie memories. That's right, today's case is the 1959 "kiddie matinee" classic Santa Claus, a made-in-Mexico mishegas of St. Nick legend, Christian theology, and Robert Campbell-knows-what kind of miscellaneous mythology which features Kris Kringle's annual globe-hopping, gift-giving marathon under attack from the minions of the Prince of Darkness...well, one less-than-crack member of said minions, anyway.

Brought north of the border by children's film procurer K. Gordon Murray (who narrates the English-dubbed version under a pseudonym), this Yuletide fever dream opens "away up in the heavens, far out in space," where Santa's gold-and-crystal palace sits on a cloud, in apparent geosynchronous orbit above the North Pole.  Yeah, that's right, above the North Pole. In fact, you purists can leave most of your accepted Santa facts out in the lobby for this baby, because it's clear the scripters never ready Clement Moore and were making it up as they went along.

For example, instead of a having a workshop filled with busy elves, this Santa's Toyland utilizes the ultimate in cheap labor:  "boys and girls of different races and creeds" who have "come from many lands" to take part in what sure looks like indentured servitude. Not only are they working in a room where snow falls from the ceiling, but they do it while forced to dance and sing, attired in stereotypical ethnic outfits that often border...no, leap headfirst into the  insultingly racist (check out the African children with animal skins and bones in their hair).  By the way, doesn't that cowboy-hatted U.S. kid strumming away on the guitar resemble a young George W. Bush?

Now, lest you think this Father Christmas spends all his time with the juvenile factory drudges in his celestial sweatshop, don't worry. There are two other adults residing there. On second thought, worry, because one is a burly, bare-chested blacksmith (who in the original Mexican print was supposed to be the Roman god Vulcan), who forges St. Nick a magic key that will open any door. Santa's second tenant is none other than Merlin the wizard (just how many fantasy pantheons can one film steal from?), an absent-minded mage who gives the jolly old elf a flower that can turn him invisible and "dreaming powders that fill everyone with joy and goodwill" (Lots of folks, of course, head to Mexico for similar powders nowadays).

As if that's not enough, the castle comes equipped with some ultra-creepy surveillance equipment (a severed ear on a radar dish, an eyestalk, and a computer with Mick Jagger's lips in the center) that lets Santa eavesdrop on youngsters anywhere in the world and even peer into their dreams...well before the Patriot Act!  He also has four mechanical reindeer, which when wound up snort smoke from their nostrils and laugh maniacally, to pull his sleigh.

Okay, so those are the defenders of the Christmas spirit. After a rousing "Martha Graham in Hell" dance number with devils leaping and cavorting to beat the band, we're introduced to Pitch, chief demon of Lucifer. His unholy mission: head up to Earth and make all the children there misbehave...a mission that, apparently, he's had and failed at in the past, thanks to "that bearded old goat, Santa Claus."  Blow it this time, Lucifer warns him, and he'll be put on a chocolate ice cream diet instead of his usual red hot coals!

That diabolical order sets the stage for a December 24th showdown between the forces of good and evil at Santa's first  stop...Mexico City? Sorry, all you kids back in the castle from the Orient, Russia, Africa, and Europe, where it's already Christmas morning, maybe next year. Pitch gets three mischievous brothers to do what he suggests (including setting a trap to catch Santa and hold him captive!), but he saves his most sinister wiles for two other children: a lad whose well-to-do parents neglect him and head out for a night on the town; and Lupita, an adorably Keane-eyed waif who wants nothing more than a doll, but whose folks can't afford one.  These last two tykes supply us with two of the most bizarre dream sequences in kid's film history, as the rich boy opens coffin-like boxes containing his mother and father, while poor Lupita is mocked by life-size dolls who tell her that little girls must steal to get the things they want.

Sensing perhaps that he's getting nowhere fast, Pitch also tries to foil Santa with such clever tactics as moving chimneys on roofs so he can't climb down them (both of them seem to forget about Vulcan's magic key), aiming his red-hot breath on a doorknob to heat it up (never mind, they remembered),  and the one that ultimately works: causing Kringle to lose his sleeping powders and invisibility flower, then get treed by a dog, and having people call the police are fire departments!  Will Santa find something in his bag of toys to help him get out of the tree before sunrise?  Will Richie Rich's parents ever come home from their carousing,and will sweet little Lupita ever get the dolly of her dreams?  And most importantly, will Santa remember that he still has about a billion homes to hit after he's done in Mexico?

This Yuletide turkey played consistently as a seasonal "treat" throughout the 1960s and '70s--with parents dropping the kids off at theaters while they finished up their shopping--before becoming a UHF and late-night TV staple, burrowing into the brains of  at least two generations of youngsters with its cheesy effects and badly dubbed dialogue. And that's without mentioning the (I hope) unintentionally disturbing imagery throughout the film, from Santa's leering looks at his toymaking tots and eagerness to spy on everyone to Pitch's non-stop gadding about in crimson pantaloons. Accordingly, the scene that always got the biggest laughs from audiences is when Santa shoots Pitch in the butt with a harpoon-firing toy cannon.  That's about one laugh more than kids got from watching Santa Claus Conquers the Martians, at least.

After this film, director Rene Cardona would go on to helm such similarly uplifiting family fare as Wrestling Women vs. the Aztec Mummy in 1964 and 1976's tender story of plane crash survivors in the Andes Mountain resorting to cannibalism, Survive. Even more amazingly, this wasn't K. Gordon Murray's sole attempt at bringing the St. Nicholas story to the screen. He went on to produce three low-budget features in the mid-'60s to be shown at Santa-themed amusement parks across America, and filled them with such non-North Pole co-stars as Puss in Boots, Stinky the Skunk, and the Ferocious Wolf (sadly, none of these domestic-made efforts are currently available on home video).  As bad as those three films may be, I would like to sum up this case file with one final lasting image from Santa Claus...

And a Merry Christmas to you all.