Elf

Elf

Harry Connick Jr., whose original song "The Happy Elf" inspired this cheerful, animated Christmas special, provides the voice of a narrator straightening out a couple of misguided kids who think they've got Santa fooled about their naughty-or-nice status. Connick's character tells them about Eubie, the North Pole elf whose constant exuberance wears others down but which gives Santa an idea: send Eubie to Bluesville, where joy is squelched by a repressive town authority. There, Eubie meets up with a secret movement to bring happiness to Bluesville, and ultimately does Santa proud. The Happy Elf's computer animation evokes the look of those 1960s stop-motion classics Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and Frosty the Snowman, though movement is much more fluid and dimension greater. Still, this is an effort to create a new classic, and with vocal performances that include Mickey Rooney (as Santa) and Lewis Black, and some charming songs, The Happy Elf could be a perennial Christmas entertainment. --Tom Keogh

Director(s): Jon Favreau
Production: New Line Cinema
  2 wins & 7 nominations.
 
IMDB:
6.9
Metacritic:
64
Rotten Tomatoes:
84%
PG (Parental Guidance Suggested)
Year:
2003
95
$173,400,000
Website
14,794 Views

[Buddy sees Santa in the store]

Buddy:
Santa.

Gimbel's Santa:
Hey! Ho, ho, ho!

[the children cheer excitedly]

Buddy:
Santa! It's me, Buddy! It's me!

Gimbel's Santa:
Hey, buddy. How you doing?

[an elf places a child on his lap]

Buddy:
Santa, it's me! [but his excitement and enthusiasm fades away as he grimaces at him] Who the heck are you?

Gimbel's Santa:
What are you talking about? I'm Santa Claus.

Buddy:
No, you're not.

Gimbel's Santa:
Uh... Why of course I am! Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho.

Buddy:
Well, if you're Santa, what song did I sing for you on your birthday this year?

Gimbel's Santa:
Um... Well, Happy Birthday, of course! Ho, ho, ho! So, uh, how old are you son?

Paul:
Four.

Gimbel's Santa:
You're a big boy. What's your name?

Paul:
Paul.

Gimbel's Santa:
And, uh, what can I get you for Christmas?

Buddy:
[quietly] Paul, don't tell him what you want. He's a liar.

Gimbel's Santa:
Hey! Let the kid talk.

Buddy:
You disgust me! How can you live with yourself?

Gimbel's Santa:
Just cool it, zippy!

Buddy:
You sit on a throne of lies.

Gimbel's Santa:
Look, I'm not kiddin'.

Buddy:
You're a fake.

Gimbel's Santa:
I'm a fake?

Buddy:
Yes!

Gimbel's Santa:
How'd you like to be dead?! Huh?

Paul:
Fake?

Gimbel's Santa:
Ha, ha! He's kidding.

Buddy:
[sniffs] You stink.

Gimbel's Santa:
[as the elf takes Paul off his lap after a picture] I think you're gonna have a good Christmas, all right.

Buddy:
You smell like beef and cheese, you don`t smell like Santa.

Gimbel's Santa:
OK.

[Buddy accidentally rips off the beard of Gimbel's Santa, and gasps. The kids scream in horror]

Buddy:
HE'S AN IMPOSTER! HE'S NOT SANTA!

Papa Elf:
And so, with a little help, Buddy managed to save Christmas. And his spirit saved a lot of other people, too. Should old acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind should old acquaintances be forgot. Walter started his own independent publishing company. His first book was written by a brand new, critically acclaimed children's author. The book was elf... a, uh, fictional story about an adopted elf named Buddy who was raised in the North Pole? Went to New York, ate spaghetti, worked in a shiny mailroom, and eventually saved Christmas.

[Buddy reading to children]

Buddy:
"First, I traveled through the seven levels of the candy cane forest, past the sea of twirly-swirly gumdrops, and then, I walked through the Lincoln tunnel..."

Papa Elf:
And as for me, I can't complain. Buddy comes up to visit from time to time. In the meadow we can build a snowman, and pretend that he is Parson Brown. Oh, thank you, Jovie. That's very sweet of you.

Jovie:
You're welcome, Papa. But you can do the job when you're in town.

Papa Elf:
Hey, Suzie. Come here, little one. When it snows, ain't it thrilling? Papa wants to see you.

...

Ending credits lyrics:
Though your nose get a little chilling Buddy... We'll frolic and play buddy... buddy... the Eskimo way, walking in a winter wonderland, in the meadow we can build a snowman, and pretend that he is Parson Brown. He'll say, are you married, we'll say no, man. But you can do the job when you in town, brother. Later on, we'll conspire, as we dream by the fire to face unafraid the plans That we made (walking in a winter wonderland x2) I really can't stay. But, baby, it's cold outside, I've got to go 'way, but, baby, it's cold outside. This evening has been been hoping that you'd drop in, so very nice. I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice. My mother will start to worry beautiful, what's your hurry? And father will be pacing the floor. Listen to that fireplace roar, so, really, I'd better scurry. Beautiful, please don't hurry. Well, maybe just a half a drink more. Put some records on while I pour. The neighbors might think. Baby, it's bad out there. Say, what's in this drink? No cabs to be had out there. I wish I knew how your eyes are like starlight now. To break the spell. I'll take your hat, your hair looks swell. I ought to say no, no, no, sir. Mind if I move in closer? At least I'm gonna say that I tried. What's the sense of hurting my pride? I really can't stay, baby, don't hold out. Ah, but it's cold outside. I simply must go, but, baby, it's cold outside. The answer is no, but, baby, it's cold outside. This welcome has been, I'm lucky that you dropped in, so nice and warm. Look out the window at that storm, my sister will be suspicious. Gosh, your lips look delicious, my brother will be there at the door. Waves upon tropical shore, my maiden aunt's mind is vicious. Oh, your lips look delicious. Well, maybe just a cigarette more. Never such a pleasure before. I've got to get home, but, baby, you'll freeze out there. Say, lend me your comb, it's up to your knees out there. You've really been grand. I thrill when you touch my hand, but don't you see. How can you do this thing to me? There's bound to be talk tomorrow. Think of my lifelong sorrow. At least there will be plenty implied. If you caught pneumonia and died. I really can't stay. Get rid of that hold out. Ah, but it's cold outside


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