'Twas the Night Before Christmas Reviews
Not since Adolf Hitler declared victory over the Gottlosenbewegung atheistic movement in 1933 have the core beliefs of the atheist community been so flagrantly attacked. Rankin-Bass present a thinly veiled assault on the unconverted.
Rankin-Bass gives you the villain. Albert the Atheist. His one good quality seems to be his intelligence. Which is quickly translated into an elitist-know-it-all-ism. This is the standard attack on atheists because of the well documented negative relation between intelligence and religiosity (Zuckerman, Silberman, Hall 2013). There is no pretending the atheist is ill-informed. So, in typical atheist bashing fashion Rankin-Bass turn this positive intelligence attribute into a negative.
And like most theists, Rankin-Bass put forth the Asshole-God figure. They paint the smiting Old Testament God we are too familiar with who has the the sensitivities of a spoiled brat Thai king who becomes enraged with city-destroying anger when his sanctity of existence is questioned. Santa barfs his genitals off in a lèse-majesté rage-fit at the blasphemous open letter to the city newspaper written by the evil Albert.
"One child mouse does not believe in me? Fuck it. I'm spraying jalapeño-cheese-sliders-diarrhea all over this city." (Actual quote from movie.)
Albert the atheist is then converted into a shrine building believer who is forced to make amends for his misdeeds. Albert's penance does the trick and the Santa-God returns and Albert is accepted back into the family as the prodigal son.
The great sin is not believing in Sundblom's Santa. What kind of mustacheless corncob crack-smoking Santa would defecate a ten-sack of whiteys all over a million kids dreams because one kid doesn't believe? But we don't question it, because this is the exact kind of God figure we are so accustomed to - one so pathetically desperate for us to believe in him.
Albert the atheist isn't writing to Santa or even God. He's writing to the townspeople. He's calling it like he sees it and this infuriates the Pharisees of Junctionville, New York. Albert's message goes "I don't believe and you can't make me swallow this steaming pile of half-digested spleen rupturing White Castles (R) feces." (Actual quote from movie.)
But apparently Rankin-Bass thinks you want a heaping shovelful of small-minded bigotry under your tree. The moral trope here is "If you stop believing, the fairies die."
What they don't tell you is these fairies grow up to be dogmatic demagogues hellbent on protecting and abusing their power by repressing and oppressing the scapegoated marginalized minority communities.
A Merry Christmas is only possible when the stench of rotting fairy corpses fog the earth and every copy of Twas the Night Before Christmas is steamrolled and buried under the New Mexico desert like so many E.T. Atari cartridges.
"Let there be peace on Earth and may death fall upon the gods." - All of Us.