I understand the kerfuffle surrounding this movie. Going in, I figured it was caused by some bored moralists who were beating the drums over a mischievous man in a red velvet suit with white trim. I figured, "Hey, just don't take your kids to see it and no one is hurt."

Unfortunately (actually, probably it's fortunate for my peace of mind), it appears that I am one of these fuddy-duddies, because I was extraordinarily offended by the movie. Not for how St. Nick's reputation was abused on camera by Billy Bob Thornton's Willie (an appropriate name), but by every single scene that flew in the face of ethical treatment of people, children and good sense.

This is not exactly Miracle on 34th Street. Thornton's mall Santa knows if you've been bad or good, only because he's been peaking in your window and sleeping with your sister.

Solidly on the naughty list, Willie has been imprisoned once, married twice, yet "nothing sucked a** more" than being a part-time bowl full of jelly.

Bad language is rampant, as is disgusting humor, with Thornton stumbling drunkenly throughout, peeing in his Santa suit, thinking about or having sex constantly, becoming suicidal and then feeling like his life has turned around (for the better, no less) after assaulting a pack of punk skateboarders.

John Ritter, in his farewell role, plays the straight man, as the storeowner who, in his liberal thinking, allows much more to go on than he should of Thornton's antics. Bernie Mac is his security chief, disgusting in his own way, full of mouth and short on comedy. I didn't care for him or his character one bit.

Thornton's three-foot, 90-pound "little friend," midget Marcus (Tony Cox) provides many of the laughs that I didn't feel bad about later.

Lauren Graham, the young mother on "Gilmore Girls," somehow becomes Thornton's girlfriend, if only for her Santa fetish (she makes Thornton wear the hat during their trysts). The filmmakers try to use her inherent sweetness, but she's largely wasted.

What really ruins Bad Santa is that Thornton isn't even a likable rogue. I wasn't rooting for him one bit. He is bitter and repulsive, two traits that describe someone I don't care to know or be associated. I was disturbed, not amused.

Like Big Daddy, I didn't appreciate any of the comedy involving the kid, feeling sorry for the young lad instead, thinking that, like Adam Sandler, Thornton shouldn't be allowed anywhere near a child under the age of 18.

Others in the audience hooted and hollered in laughter much more than I, so there's a possibility that the inner skeptic in some of you will be quite pleased with Bad Santa. I suppose I'm just too much a Christmas romantic at heart to appreciate such filthy comedy. I prefer jingle bells, and this movie smells.