Ever since “Bad Santa 2” was announced, it’s been met with trepidation. There’s no way they could recapture the magic of the first, a near pitch-perfect dark comedy that played as the perfect anti-Christmas film. Not only that, but the happy ending would certainly be dismissed in favor of more sophomoric antics. The growth of Willie Soke (Billy Bob Thornton) would be undermined so he could be the miserly cretin he was at the beginning of the film. Mind you, he didn’t become a saint, but his heart grew at least one size bigger. Surely, that’s all going to waste for what seems to be a cash-in on the cult classic’s favored reputation.
I do have some good news: the reputation of “Bad Santa” isn’t put to waste in this sequel. While Willie is back to being a sad sack, he didn’t forget what made him happy at the last film’s end. He just comes to the crushing realization that a prick such as him can only have his glory for so long. He’s lost the one true semblance of love he had in Sue (Lauren Graham) and is doing his best to push aside Thurman Merman (Brett Kelly) for the kid’s own good. He’s avoided returning to a life of crime, but his short temper and easily distracted hormones constantly get the better of him. Just as he’s about to hang himself, a message from an old colleague in Marcus Skidmore (Tony Cox) gives him a new lease on life.
While this sequel plays out much in the same way the first film did, replete with another redemption, it does cover its tracks. Screenwriters Johnny Rosenthal & Shauna Cross understand the characters cooked up by Glenn Ficarra & John Requa, not stripping them of their identities in favor of cheap gags. It makes complete sense for Willie’s life to spiral out of control quickly after the events of the first film, as he’s not long for joy; it’s not in his DNA. The predicament is making his second chance engaging, not in protecting the first film’s happy ending.
Thanks to Thurman Merman, the transition into Willie’s redemption is smooth. He provides the protagonist a basis to continue through his naïveté. He’s still Willie’s punching bag, but more out of love and sympathy. He’s hoping he’ll push him hard enough that the kid will get an edge and finally start his life. The annoyance of Merman is the catalyst for Willie accepting one more heist with Marcus, despite the latter trying to kill him in the last film (a callback used as a running gag). The heist takes them to Chicago, where they most don the suits once more to rip off a wealthy charity drive.
This is where the film begins to stumble. While the heist gives way for familiar tropes in which to hang the jokes on, it also introduces new characters that don’t gel well with returning favorites. Willie’s mother, Sunny (Kathy Bates), fares well as a lecherous wench who makes Willie look like an angel in comparison. Bates has a ball playing against type, dishing out blunt sexual innuendos and hilariously playing with a dildo at one point. She also provides more insight into her son’s disturbed mental state, though that does aid in slightly desensitizing the beloved bastard. A lot of the humor from the first film came from the anonymity of Willie’s cantankerous ways. Pulling back the curtain hinders some of the darker humor, adding more sorrow to the material than it needed. Those sharp barbs aren’t as funny when there’s some truth behind them.
Diane Hastings (Christina Hendricks) doesn’t fare as well, acting as a replicant for Sue. She’s the archetypal sweetheart with a naughty side, which of course Willie brings out of her. She even gets to utter the famed “Fuck me, Santa!” line; again, this is made lesser not because of familiarity, but because there’s some sorrow behind it. Good in developing Willie, but bad in producing comedy. Her husband, Regent (Ryan Hansen), is a forgettable one-note villain cheating on his wife and stealing the donations for his own good. Why they felt the need to justify the heist as moral (stealing from a thief, not children) is beyond me, as it doesn’t fit in line with the character’s morals. Willie even says so himself, hilariously stating he opposes robbing a charity because there’s no way they’d be raking in two million. As for Gina De Luca (Jenny Zigrino) and Dorfman (Jeff Skowron), they’re just fodder for Marcus. The former is his conquest in love (she’s thrown off by the size difference), the latter a goof of a security guard whose sole shining moment is a necrophilia joke on his behalf.
Yes, the film is filled with the morose coarse humor that helped make the first film such a hit. There’s enough vulgarities and sexual innuendos to fill a dozen raunchy comedies with. It’s a case of sensory overload, however, as only half of the jokes land. The others fall flat due to stupefaction. The script follows the more is more sequel approach, drowning the story in as much crass behavior as humanly possible. There’s barely a chance to breathe before the next joke is dispensed. If there’s any consolation, the fifty percent of jokes that do connect are uproarious and the ones that miss aren’t cringe-worthy (aside from the lame Instagram collage during the end credits).
I found that, whenever Thurman Merman was on screen, the film exceled. He was the returning character I was worried about most, my fear being that he’d be a repetitive punching bag of deficiency. Color me surprised when his credulity made him endearing and amusing, but not in a particularly mean way. He humanizes Willie as he did in the first, all the while providing laughs with his expense, not at it. I was overjoyed when he found his way to Chicago as his mere presence elevated the material! Good on director Mark Waters to have the foresight to not overexpose him, even if I was itching for him to be.
I will give praise to Mark Waters in taking on the unenviable task of replacing Terry Zwigoff in the director’s chair. He does an admirable job, albeit one sullied by a frank approach. There’s no subtlety in the comedy or drama found in Zwigoff’s direction, hampering the overall effect. Waters clearly understands the characters and tone, but is seemingly afraid the audience won’t believe him. Therefore, he drives home his point like a jackhammer, very noticeable in the introduction of the new characters and in the finale. When he gets to coast, so to speak, on the familiarity of the returning characters, he’s more at ease in allowing the actions to speak for themselves.
I don’t know if a returning Terry Zwigoff would’ve propelled “Bad Santa 2” into cult classic territory. It may have still suffered from sequelitis, relying a bit too much on nostalgia to get by. Maybe the Willie Sokes saga was best contained to one film, with no amount of finesse comfortably justifying a return to his melancholy. What I do know is that, while not a cult classic by any means, “Bad Santa 2” is an enjoyable dark comedy with enough laughs to anchor the brisk pace. It won’t stand the test of time…hell, it probably won’t even stand the test of this winter movie season. It will, however, act as a pleasant diversion from the dregs of life.
Final Rating: B-