A perfect excuse for converting to Buddhism, the gratuitous third instalment of the goodwill-sapping Christmas franchise is more likely to raise jeers than cheers from kids and harried parents alike.

Back in 1994, sleeper hit The Santa Clause pitched Allen – hot from top-rated TV comedy Home Improvement – as Scott Calvin, a businessman who winds up as Father Christmas.

The 2002 sequel had Scott/Santa finding himself a wife in the wholesome form of Elizabeth Mitchell (TV’s Lost). And now, completing the tacky box-set, we have Mrs Claus - aka Carol, geddit? - expecting to delivery her own bundle of joy.

But with the polar toy-making operation behind schedule, Scott is all wrapped up at work. Reluctantly, he accepts help from other make-believe celebs like the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy and icy sneak Jack Frost (Short).

To keep Carol's spirits up, Scott brings her parents (Alan Arkin and Ann-Margret) and – strangely – his own ex-wife, her husband and their carrot-topped daughter to the North Pole.

Festive law decrees that Scott's alter-ego must be kept secret from his in-laws, so everyone pretends that the North Pole is Canada. Thus follows much gentle ribbing of all things Canadian which will leave British audiences cold.

Meanwhile, crafty Frost resorts to subterfuge and sabotage on discovering that he can become Santa if he can make Scott step down via the titular escape clause.

The syrup train veers briefly into It's A Wonderful Life territory as Scott gets a taste of what life would be like had he never tried on the fat suit. But any vaguely interesting subplots are smothered in gooey hugs.

Allen shows the resigned air of a guy whose last decent movie came in 1999(Galaxy Quest), while seasoned campaigners Arkin, Ann-Margret and Short are also caught in the fruitless search for laughs.

Most gallingly, this cynical cash-in has the cheek to rail against the commercialisation of Yuletide. It even includes the line: "This junk is not what Christmas is about!"

How's that for hypo-Chrissy?

Elliott Noble