Santa Claus

It¡’s known to Western audiences as a cult bad movie and a bizarre experience all in one. In a rather unique setting (the whole studio set must have cost an awful lot of money), it tells the story of Santa Claus, who, as if in the manner of the KGB, spies on children (with binoculars, an eavesdropping device in the form of an ear on a satellite dish) to see if they are good or up to mischief, employs a magician named Merlin to make dreaming powder, a blacksmith with bizarrely glued-on chest hair to make a patent key that unlocks all the doors, massages his belly with a vibrating belt to lose weight so he can fit into the chimneys, and laughs constantly throughout the film like a stoner. His adversary is the devil, dressed in a red jumpsuit, whose job it is to persuade children to steal and break windows with stones and, most importantly, he tries to blackmail Santa, which, if he doesn't succeed, will result in him eating only ice-cram cake as punishment, which, as he says, "isn't good for his digestive system". The kids utter morsels of wisdom like stealing is bad; it's all so positive and sunny that you almost want to cheer for the three little bastards waiting for Santa on the roof by the chimney to tie him up in a sack and make him their slave. Add to that the constant sound of "Jingle bells, jingle bells" (over and over again, until your brain wants to jump out of your head), and if you can survive the initial terribly boring quarter-hour long parade of children from all over the world, when the names of countries on Santa's monitor and their inhabitants – children – singing local folk songs, then you can survive everything. It’s so incredibly bizarre and by the end you’ll be so mentally tired that not even Santa will be able help you. (05.08.2017)