Don't see Fred Claus. Read my review, but do not see it ever.
1. The actors lack chemistry to the point where I found myself questioning whether they had ever met each other. Did they film their scenes alone and have the editors mash them together? How would it feel to act with Vince Vaughn talking over you, rambling to discover something funny, and straying from the already too-complicated plot? I felt bad for Giamatti and Weisz, but hey, they signed on.
2. What kind of a movie is Fred Claus? It was too serious to be a children's movie, too goofy to be an adult movie, and not magical enough to qualify as a holiday film. The cast and crew jumped around from recession-era big business criticism to dancing elves to race relations. Oof. I wished they would have watched The Santa Clause to understand the importance of streamlining major holiday releases.
3. Speaking of race relations, what the hell was going on with them in Fred Claus? Fred (Vince Vaughn) is friend to the stereotypical street-wise black orphan, Slam (Bobb'e J. Thompson from Role Models), who takes Fred's advice too much to heart and becomes a jerk. In the end, everyone is redeemed, and Vaughn gets to play the open-minded hero. I don't buy it, and I don't buy that the only noticeable black elf was Ludacris, a disc jockey, and I don't buy that Fred dates a cool, beautiful British girl (Rachel Weisz, hubba hubba, best part of the movie).
4. Fred Claus made me laugh authentically, at my most generous estimate, twice. I laughed because I hated the film way more than that, but that kind of laughter also kills my soul.
5. 1 hour and 55 minutes. So long.
I hated Fred Claus, and now I kind of hate myself. Bah humbug.