Are you looking for love this Christmas? Are you hella
divorced and sad? And tell me, how do you feel about fat suits?
Totally turned on? I thought so. Well, you’re in for a treat,
lady, because: “This Christmas, the perfect man just happens to be
Santa.”
That mind-blowing tagline belongs to The Perfect Holiday, a
movie about a nice, lonely gal named Nancy (Gabrielle Union). Nancy is
one of those movie moms: “She’s so busy being everything for
everybody, there’s nobody left for herself!” Boo hoo, right? Right.
Because Nancy lives in a fancy mansion with three not-at-all
troublesome baby children, and Nancy’s “job” consists of cashing hefty
checks from her P. Diddy-ish ex-husband and going to the mall to visit
hot Santa. Nancy. SERIOUSLY. What is so stressful?
The Perfect Holiday opens with some animated credits in which
cartoon Terence Howard (grinchy!) repeatedly attempts to murder cartoon
Queen Latifah (jolly!), using a saw, a blowtorch, and some sort of
military defoliant. Then Latifah coaxes “the first snowflake of the
season” into her giant mouth. “Come in, li’l fella!” she says, “Mmmm,
buttery, supple, and with a clean finish. Just like Christmas is
supposed to taste!” Um, ick.
It turns out that hot Santa (Morris Chestnut, created in a lab out
of fairy dust and handsome juice) is not only hot, he also gives money
and scarves to the homeless, and croons gentle holiday melodies filled
with heart. And after a little hint-hint from Nancy’s baby kid, hot
Santa goes a-wooing. Is any of this making sense?
At this point, because I cannot stop thinking about it, I
need to tell you that Nancy’s ex, a rapper or something, goes by the
name J. Jizzy. He has a clothing line called “Jizzy Gear.” Jizzy. Gear.
Excuse me, man. Look at your gear. Your gear is covered with jizz. Why
did you buy that gear? IT’S JIZZY GEAR! This Christmas, the perfect man
just happens to be—EEEEEEEEEW! SANTA, I THINK YOU GOT SOMETHING
ON YOUR GEAR.