Kids, for the most part, are not stupid. Despite the countless gloom-and-doomers who despair of this or that being a "negative influence" on the younger generations, my experience has taught me that children are not merely innocent sponges that absorb whatever happens to be at hand. They have much more awareness and understanding, I think, than they are often given credit for.
I cannot imagine any child over the age of three being taken in for one moment by "Santa Claus Conquers the Martians," a movie that seems to have been made under the delusion that children are complete idiots who will believe anything you tell them and are unable of accepting anything but the most basic of concepts. That alone makes it contemptible, and when you throw in cheap sets, bad acting, laughable dialogue, and non-existent special effects, the result is heaven (and/or hell) for the bad movie aficionado.
The movie begins in mid-Septober--at least according to the Martians, who, despite having adopted Earthling language, food (albiet food in pill form), and television, have for some reason completely rejected the Gregorian calendar. But it's early December on the planet next door, and kids all over the world are eagerly anticipating a visit from Santa Claus (like most movies about Santa, this one ignores a) the large portion of the Earth's population and their children who do not, for various reasons, celebrate Christmas and b) any and all religious significance of Christmas itself). But Martian head honcho Kimar wants to draft Kris Kringle into bringing Christmas joy to the little green boys and girls--represented by his kids Bomar and Girmar--who are suffering from, I don't know, not having toys or something. So the Martians hijack St. Nick--bringing along a couple Earth rugrats for good measure--a development which Santa takes with frightening good cheer, even when the requisite bad guy Martian tries to throw him and the kids out of the airlock. You'd think he'd be angry at someone who'd murder a couple children, or at least be mildly worried about disappointing the Earth kids while he's being carted around the solar system, but no--he takes it all in stride.
The whole movie takes place in that weird parallel dimension found in old "educational" short films and some early sitcoms. You know the one: everyone is squeaky clean and unflinchingly polite (except the bad guy, who just hates everything on general principle), and speak only in exposition. Nobody is allowed to think or do anything that would stand in the way of the plot--such as the end, where the painfully-unfunny comic relief Martian is mistaken for Santa Claus despite it being inescapably obvious that, well, he isn't. Ethnicity is unheard of. Women are either scolding or shrewish (Mrs. Claus) or dutiful homemakers (the mother Martian). The latter is played by Leila Martin, who later was in "Phantom of the Opera" on Broadway, a fact I mention because I saw her in that show and can attest that she's a very capable actress,which is not something you'd know from this movie.
There's more, of course. I haven't even covered the guy in the polar bear suit. The Martian robot, who may very well be the polar bear guy in a different outfit. And Dropo, the aforementioned non-comic non-relief whose stylings, much like a natural disaster, need to be experienced firsthand in order to understand the horror of it. But enough. See it for yourself--if you think you have the stomach for it.
I cannot imagine any child over the age of three being taken in for one moment by "Santa Claus Conquers the Martians," a movie that seems to have been made under the delusion that children are complete idiots who will believe anything you tell them and are unable of accepting anything but the most basic of concepts. That alone makes it contemptible, and when you throw in cheap sets, bad acting, laughable dialogue, and non-existent special effects, the result is heaven (and/or hell) for the bad movie aficionado.
The movie begins in mid-Septober--at least according to the Martians, who, despite having adopted Earthling language, food (albiet food in pill form), and television, have for some reason completely rejected the Gregorian calendar. But it's early December on the planet next door, and kids all over the world are eagerly anticipating a visit from Santa Claus (like most movies about Santa, this one ignores a) the large portion of the Earth's population and their children who do not, for various reasons, celebrate Christmas and b) any and all religious significance of Christmas itself). But Martian head honcho Kimar wants to draft Kris Kringle into bringing Christmas joy to the little green boys and girls--represented by his kids Bomar and Girmar--who are suffering from, I don't know, not having toys or something. So the Martians hijack St. Nick--bringing along a couple Earth rugrats for good measure--a development which Santa takes with frightening good cheer, even when the requisite bad guy Martian tries to throw him and the kids out of the airlock. You'd think he'd be angry at someone who'd murder a couple children, or at least be mildly worried about disappointing the Earth kids while he's being carted around the solar system, but no--he takes it all in stride.
The whole movie takes place in that weird parallel dimension found in old "educational" short films and some early sitcoms. You know the one: everyone is squeaky clean and unflinchingly polite (except the bad guy, who just hates everything on general principle), and speak only in exposition. Nobody is allowed to think or do anything that would stand in the way of the plot--such as the end, where the painfully-unfunny comic relief Martian is mistaken for Santa Claus despite it being inescapably obvious that, well, he isn't. Ethnicity is unheard of. Women are either scolding or shrewish (Mrs. Claus) or dutiful homemakers (the mother Martian). The latter is played by Leila Martin, who later was in "Phantom of the Opera" on Broadway, a fact I mention because I saw her in that show and can attest that she's a very capable actress,which is not something you'd know from this movie.
There's more, of course. I haven't even covered the guy in the polar bear suit. The Martian robot, who may very well be the polar bear guy in a different outfit. And Dropo, the aforementioned non-comic non-relief whose stylings, much like a natural disaster, need to be experienced firsthand in order to understand the horror of it. But enough. See it for yourself--if you think you have the stomach for it.