‘Red One’ review: Dwayne Johnson and Chris Evans save Christmas but don’t let the audience down.

Dwayne Johnson’s yuletide action-fantasy-comedy, not to be confused with his 2021 action-comedy crime caper. The new movie is getting a wide theatrical release for starters, while the previous one went straight to Netflix, topped the most-streamed charts for a minute and then about it again. Never talked about—almost as if it never existed.

Jack Kasdan’s painstaking holiday entry is a pop-cultural icon, while it insistently screams “next-gen Christmas classic!” On you, it doesn’t seem likely to be much different. It’s a high-concept, CG-saturated bore that lacks heart and infectious humor, even if it fumbles and squirms a little at the end.

The screenplay by franchise veteran Chris Morgan, from a story by co-producer Hiram Garcia, plays out like the result of a pitch meeting in which a somewhat overzealous junior on the studio development team says, “Hey, let’s do it, but the kidnapping Tons of awesome tech with intrigue and shit!

The film pairs Johnson with Chris Evans as an unlikely duo to track down JK Simmons’ kidnapped Santa Claus (codenamed “Red One”) on Christmas Eve. Made to save. It is steeped in myth and magic, and yet stubbornly non-magical.

Evans plays Jack O’Malley, an unscrupulous opportunist who is introduced as a mouthy Pretend Boy (White Hunt) who collects cash from his cousins ​​in exchange for what he claims to be. There is definitive proof that Santa Claus does not exist. Thirty years later, he’s picking up other people’s lattes from a cafe pickup counter before heading home to a bank of computer monitors from which he surfs the dark web, working as the world’s greatest hacker/tracker. has been, under the alias “The Wolf.”

Johnson is Callum Drift, head of the North Pole Security Team Enforcement, Logistics and Fortification (ELF, geddit?) responsible for protecting Santa. Simmons’ Nick, as Cal affectionately addresses him, likes to make the rounds of the department store before each year’s big delivery. The film sets him up as the US president, with a Secret Service motorcade taking him from a shopping mall to a hangar where his team of digitally rendered reindeer stands ready for takeoff, which Accompanied by a golden sleigh decorated like a futuristic chariot.

Once airborne, they switch to high speed and return to the North Pole, a domed super-city equipped with advanced technological capabilities and yet staffed with elves who make child labor. The mutants in the factory look as disturbing as Yodas. Santa greets Mrs. Claus (Bonnie Hunt) before diving into his gym routine, pressing on major poundage to get in tip-top shape for the big night.

The only reason Santa barks is because of Cal’s decision, after working together for a few centuries, to resign, this being their last Christmas together. Unlike Nick, Cal can no longer see the good in people: “I love the kids, but the big ones are killing me.” For the first time, the naughty list is longer than the nice one, and Cal laments that people don’t even care.

Meanwhile, Jack is being paid handsomely by an anonymous employer to hack into the Intercontinental Seismic Surveillance System. He has identified the entrance to the North Pole that has been hidden for centuries and, before long, a highly integrated tactical unit infiltrates the dome and leaves Red One while Cal is chasing the decoys.

This emergency prompts MORA, the Mythological Insight and Restoration Authority (many acronyms), into action. The organization’s director, Zoe Harlow (Lucy Love), tracks down the allegedly untraceable wolf in what seems like seconds, and strong-arms Jack teams up with Cal to uncover the kidnappers and rescue Santa. is

After Leo’s fantastic work in Steven Soderbergh’s haunted house Chiller (opening Jan. 24), that’s one of the many frustrating things about the completely ordinary role he’s assigned here. Even when Zoe gets a chance to kick some ass in a fight scene, the action shifts to the armored dudes almost immediately.

It’s no wonder how much testosterone is clogging the arteries of the aggressively charming movie—from buff Santas to security squads equipped with high-tech hardware and cool vehicles, from toy-like stunts to skirmishes that are PG-13. Push the boundaries of violence.

And that’s before we even get to the muscle-bound goat-man Krampus (Kristofer Hivju), Santa’s adopted half-brother. This Dark Lord of Winter long ago moved to a gloomy Germanic castle in the Black Forest, guarded by hellhounds, where his favorite nightly ritual is a face-hugging contest with the volunteers of his court of madmen.

It’s a film that aims for epic intrigue and rollicking adventure but mostly descends into leaden bloat, with Henry Jackman’s appropriately hyperventilating score. It’s always busy but rarely fun. The fantasy setting has all the appeal of Kenneth Branagh’s instantly forgotten center-of-earth fairy kingdom. Inhuman arctic workers like a talking penguin and a fuzzy polar bear — neither of whom risk being mistaken for real animals — add minimal entertainment.

Just as the Krampus comes from the yuletide folklore of Germany, Austria and other parts of Alpine Europe, Morgan’s screenplay also draws on the Icelandic legend of the Christmas witch Grilla (Kernan Shipka in a role that begs for Björk). Adds, a 900-year-old shapeshifter. Transforms from a hideous ogres into a demonic babe that looks so much more. But this boring world has no place for the delicious adventures of this badass robot thriller.

The interval that comes closest to producing a laugh is Nick Kroll’s brief appearance as Ted, the head of a mercenary security force known as the Kermanians. (If you think there’s a hint of Kardashian in there, you’re waiting for a joke that doesn’t happen.) When Cal and Jack visit Ted on the beach in Aruba, he ends up with his ankle. The medium hovers in mid-air, possessed by the demonic voice of Grilla. But the droll crawl isn’t long enough to add levity.

The job rests largely on the shoulders of Evans, who deserves better and can only do so much with silly dialogue. Johnson, reuniting with his director on the two sequels, is on straight-man duty, looking all serious and purposeful, until plot mechanics give him reason to smile again.

Krampus and Grýla, who command a unit of deadly giant snowmen and apparently have 13 sons who kill on command, are villains whose main policy difference with Santa centers on punishing those who are focused on punishing those on the naughty list rather than qualifying as virtuous.

Jack, surprisingly, is a “Level 4” naughty lister, whose bad example has managed to rub off on his teenage son Dylan (Wesley Kimmel), despite being a neglectful father who hardly ever You spend time with him. There’s a lot of unfunny banter between nerdy Cal and cynical Jack, but if you didn’t guess the two characters’ heartwarming turnaround before the final scenes, then you probably still believe in Santa.

This holiday entry, one could almost say, is so ugly, artificial and long that it should treat children of any belief in magic. It’s a perfect example of the ways in which CG effects have undermined the imaginations of many contemporary filmmakers – making anything possible, but often at the expense of a human heartbeat. In any case, your Christmas stocking is worth a lump of coal.