Merry Christmas!

I know, I know. I’m inconsistent. It’s been months since my last post.

I’ve been busy?

Actually, I have been busy. I finally released the memoir! Woo-hoo!

But that’s not why I’m here. I’ll dive into that later. Paperback copies are available if you’re interested, and I know you are. But I still need to put together a Kindle version and get the website in order and a bunch of other small, aggravating things. I’ll do all that sometime in January.

So, why am I here? For the only reason that matters this time of year. There’s a burning question that must be answered.

What makes a Christmas movie?

I know most of you are probably like “It’s about Christmas! Duh! You suck, Casey. Go jump off a cliff you raging asshat. Nobody likes you anyway.” I understand your thoughts and concerns, and I’m still searching for that perfect cliff, but hear me out.

Is a Christmas movie a movie about Christmas? Or is it just a movie with events that take place around Christmas? There’s a difference. A lot of people will cite a movie like “Home Alone” as their favorite Christmas flick, but “Home Alone” is not about Christmas. The events of the movie just happen to take place around Christmas. You could plug in any other holiday and the same things would happen.

So, is “Home Alone” a Christmas movie?

Now, there’s no arguing that films like “A Miracle on 34th Street” and “It’s a Wonderful Life” and “A Christmas Story” are definite Christmas movie classics. You could even throw “Elf” in there, though I’ve never personally seen it. But, if “Home Alone” is to be considered a Christmas movie, then I present the following others to be considered as well:

Die Hard

Die Hard 2: Die Harder

Lethal Weapon

Batman Returns

Trading Places

Edward Scissorhands

Now, I ask you, when you gather round the fire with family on Christmas day to spend quality time with one another, what do you want playing over the proceedings? Do you want George Bailey learning the true meaning of life and Christmas? Do you want Ralphie in his bunny costume? Do you want Will Ferrell acting like Will Ferrell?

Or do you want John McClane saving the denizens of Nakatomi Plaza from the vile, yet charismatic, Hans Gruber? The Dark Knight doing battle with the hideous Penguin? A guy with scissors for hands giving housewives haircuts?

I think you know the answer.

The Red Rising Trilogy was a Christmas gift from my brother last year. He thought it would be something I’d enjoy reading. The first two were alright, not really my cup of tea. I already hated the main protagonist, Darrow, about fifty pages in. I didn’t care for the premise of an entire class system separated by color. Not color as in race, color as in crayons. It seemed a bit hokey. And there seemed to be a lot of pointless details and funny names and inconsistent world-building.

But I’ll read anything, even if it’s just for research. Then I got to the third book, Morning Star, and I’ve never been so happy to be finished with a trilogy. It was a bloated, overwritten mess. Darrow still sucks as a character. Every time he launched into one of his speeches I immediately began skimming as he shouted out the same self-righteous word-vomit as before. All of his crazy plans come spontaneously off the top of his head and they all work, which is frustratingly shallow story-telling.

By the end he’s basically test-tube Hitler. He’s an abomination created in a lab that succeeds in rallying millions behind his cause only to have most of them die. He’s also entirely too emotional and needy to lead any kind of resistance with any kind of success. He constantly laments death and the human cost of war, then has a chance to be a martyr to save millions. He chooses the opposite, which goes against everything he’s been characterized at since the first chapter of the first book.

I was behind Pierce Brown, the author, for the first two. He seemed like a good, talented writer. I just didn’t care for the subject matter. After Morning Star I’m convinced he’s a total hack. There is a scene lifted straight out of Good Will Hunting that is so egregious it’s practically plagiarism. He slips in the term “Bye, Felicia” somewhere in the middle of the story. Remember when that was popular for five minutes? He crams in so many pointless details and ridiculous naming conventions it’s like he trying to prove how creative he can be, how good of a writer he is.

But, C. M., isn’t that how you write a good book? No. You write a good book by telling a story.

If Brown had any balls as a writer he would have killed off Darrow at the end of the second book, Golden Son. He had a perfect opportunity. That would have allowed the third book to be told from the point of view of Sevro, Darrow’s best friend and the best character in the series by far. Darrow could have acted as the martyr he should have been as Sevro took up the resistance and finished what test-tube Hitler started. Sevro had more of a claim anyway as he was torn between two colors, two worlds, whereas Darrow knew nothing of a higher society until he was ripped out of his lower one.

Just my thoughts. I could go deeper but I’m ready to move on. Time to cleanse my palate with a classic read.