[caption id="attachment_9108" align="alignnone" width="500" caption="Where's the Sugar Plum Panzertruppen?"]


Finally, someone had the balls to make the holiday film we've all been clamoring for: a Nazi-themed version of The Nutcracker. And to top it all off, they've given the film a 3D conversion! I love 3D conversions. Not as much as I love Nazi-themed holiday films, but I digress.

At any rate, the "media" has not been as enthusiastic about the film as I have. Here's a rundown of reactions compiled by the good people at Movie Line. Typical.
From what dark night of the soul emerged the wretched idea for The Nutcracker in 3D? Who considered it even remotely a plausible idea for a movie?
-Roger Ebert

Who thought, OK, let’s take a classic tale like The Nutcracker, a holiday favorite that families have enjoyed together for over a century, turn it into a movie, convert it into 3-D, write lyrics to accompany Tchaikovsky’s beloved music, then twist the plot to include an oppressive, fascist society reminiscent of Nazi Germany, complete with a Hitler figure and uniform-clad minions?
-Christy Lemire

Seemingly predicated on the idea that nothing says “the holidays” quite like the Holocaust, The Nutcracker in 3D owes as much to Art Spiegelman’s Maus as it does to Tchaikovsky.
- John Anderson

Someone must have thought the constant nods to Leni Riefenstahl’s Triumph of the Will were clever; same with the heaping piles of toys set to be burned. Who will save them before the next painfully awkward action sequence or psychobabble lyric arrives?
- Joshua Rothkopf

It’s a dystopian fantasy masquerading as a children’s story, with weird things popping up, like a bit of kung fu wire work by the Rat King (a hammy John Turturro) or a scene involving an electrocuted shark that appears to be a homage to, or a dig at, Damien Hirst. There’s a surprising level of bloodless violence and a propensity to uncover a bit more of the body of its 12-year-old star, Elle Fanning, than is strictly called for.
-Mike Hale

The Rat King intends to blot out the sun with the billowing ash of burning children’s toys that emanates from towering smokestacks, a bit of glib symbolism—also promoted by the sight of stormtroopers ripping beloved possessions out of poor people’s hands—that’s in such monumentally bad taste that the film soon devolves into unintentional Springtime for Hitler-type camp.
-Nick Schager