Dear Josh,

On the night before Christmas

three ride-or-die friends

meet for annual hijinx

they’ve decided to end.

The lawyer, the slacker,
the big football star

have outgrown their mic rocking

at the karaoke bar.

But they have one last night

to raise their beer mugs,

in a Redbull stretch limo

with a box full of drugs.

While some will be cheered

by the usual Yule tropisms,

the film has a weak,

unsteady sinus rhythm.

Celebrity cameos

don’t make it worth the hassle

to find the Nutcracka Ball

(this movie’s Whitecastle).

There is one clear standout,

a hands-down scene stealer,

and that’s Michael Shannon

as a weirdo weed dealer.

I wanted much more

from this fine all-star cast

than half-assed homages

to Christmas flicks past.

There’s a vague doping subplot

• why is that even there?!

It’s random, out of place,

and I just didn’t care.

The good jokes don’t land,

the bad jokes drag on,

and the plot threads go scattering

hither and yon.

This film is a let-down,

I sadly concluded –

like a toy under the tree

with no batteries included.