Hoo-f'in-ray for Santy Claus

Maybe it was the terrible disappointment every Dec. 25, when there were no presents under the wilted fern masquerading as a Christmas tree, since pa had once again blown the welfare check on hookers and Old Milwaukee. Or the third-grade Christmas play, when he muffed his only line as a shepherd. Or the countless beatings and burnings that always seemed to escalate around the holidays.

But someone around here really hated the movie Santa Claus Conquers the Martians. Even as a young, bitter man, he caught how awful it was, and as he grew into an old, bitter man, he thought its status as some kind of it's-so-bad-it's-good cult film was a terrible reminder of the innate ability of humans to willfully apply shine to shit

So, some 10 years ago, when he heard a local theater was mounting a stage version of the execrable 1964 film, he did his best to forget about it. But the Maverick Theater didn't. It has become one of that theater's programming staples, which makes sense, since nearly everything founder/artistic director Brian Newell has chosen in the Maverick's 15-year history has some kind of cinematic bent to it. And rather than choose a highly regarded holiday film such as, say, the 1994 classic All I Want for Christmas Is a Gang Bang (seriously, it's real; the Interwebz says so), Newell and co-adapter Nick Emmett McGee opted to theatricalize an asinine, shoddily made film.

And bless their little hearts for it. Yes, the staged version is stupid-silly and ridiculous r-word, but it's also more fun than spiking grandma's eggnog and watching her fall down the stairs—not to mention, far less dickish. After 10 years, with many of the performers reprising their roles, there's a loose, ad-libby nature to the affair. But though Newell, who directs, gives his lunatics the run of the asylum, he has kept the keys. Even with the audience interactions, asides and spontaneous bits, the focus is on the story—even if that story is as hokey as they come.

Martian children are acting up, and Kimar (McGee), the head of the Martian council, decides to kidnap Santa Claus and force him to bring Christmas to his world. His second-in-command, Voldar (Andrew Villarreal), is suspicious of the plan and tries to undermine it at every turn. When their spaceship arrives on our planet, they seize two Earth kids (Rob Downs and Katie Sapp) in hopes they'll lead him to Santa's workshop. They eventually do, and with the help of Torg (Joe Sanders), the most un-menacing menacing robot imaginable, they capture St. Nick and return to Mars. Santa is supplied with a miraculous toy-making machine that generates whatever children ask for through the thoroughly explained process of multidimensional wormholes. Except this technical marvel can be easily tampered with, as Voldar does, leading to the white-knuckler climax of high drama and lofty ideals.

The show is subtly thread-bare. Everything from the miniature spacecraft and Santa's toy-making machine looks as though it were slapped together in Ed Wood's basement, but there's a uniformity to the production values that makes it all work. This type of theater truly lives or dies on the strength of the ensemble, and this one is intoxicating. They're having so much fun up there (such as Downs, who plays Billy as if he's a grown man who realizes he's trapped playing an annoyingly chipper little kid and manages to pull it off every step of the way) that it's impossible for the audience to not jump onto the ride. McGee and Villarreal are standouts in the main roles, and Spencer Douglas' Santa is ideally cheerful and resourceful. The other Martians (Michael Skinner, Leah Feliciano, Ingrid Garner, Donny Van Horn and Jeffery Rockey) also have ample opportunities to shine.

You'd think after a decade of mounting the same show that things would have settled into a routine. But that's not the sense here. And that has a great deal to do with the audience. About three-quarters of Sunday's audience members raised their hands when Newell asked them before the show if they'd ever seen it, with a few saying this was their eighth year. With plenty of adolescents and teenagers in the audience, that kind of youthful exuberance and dedicated allegiance from regulars can't help but keep a cast on its toes.

And, yes, you deeply serious and politically charged artists: There is no depth, no gravitas, no justifiable reason, other than sheer diversion, that this play should be staged (although it's never a bad idea to remind people that the only war worth waging is the war to defend the imagination, as this story gently suggests). But it's Christmas. And it's fun. So fuck off.

Santa Claus Conquers the Martians at the Maverick Theater, 110 E. Walnut Ave., Fullerton, (714) 526-7070; www.mavericktheater.com. Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 4 & 8 p.m.; Sun., 4 p.m. Through Dec. 23. $12-$22. SOLD OUT<0x2014>but check with the box office before crying into your eggnog.