I don’t think so, Tim

The 90s: a good time to be Tim Allen.

Think about it: dude had Home Improvement for almost the entire decade, and the Toy Story franchise (yeah, let’s not talk about how Toy Story 2 was already 10 years ago). And a cozy little Christmas flick called The Santa Clause.

I caught The Santa Clause on TV a few days ago…and couldn’t click away.
If you can forgive the woah 90s hair and sweaters, and allow for a plot whose conspicuous absence of google seems antiquated, it’s not SO terribly bad.
(Some childhood entertainments do not age so kindly. Have you tried to sit down with an episode of Full House lately? yikes. yiiiikes.)

A holiday punch-line we’ve heard before, you’re never too old to believe, but it still manages to heartwarm and amuse. And make me long for fourth grade…1994…

That reminds me. I had a boyfriend in elementary school. His name was Gary. I remember word on the street was he was going to get me something for Christmas. I quizzed his friend David for all the details, and he wouldn’t budge. Finally I got him to admit it might be an inanimate object.
I froze in fear…because:
a) I was pretty sure I knew what “inanimate” meant. See, I’d never kissed a boy in fourth grade (pushes up glasses with nerdy indignantude), and the whole idea made me nervous.
b) I wasn’t completely sure what it meant, and that meant David had a better vocabulary than I did. This aggression will not stand.

See…elementary school…that’s what we get all schmaltzy for around Christmas: the innocence and adventure of being a kid. And that’s why The Santa Clause gets to be a classic, even though Frank Capra it ain’t.

Plus you can’t have enough Judge Reinhold. You just can’t.