That edgy comedic abandon, contained in the body of a normal-looking, slightly overgrown man, makes "Elf," a goofy comic fable about a human raised by Santa and his North Pole assembly liners (you almost expect Michael Moore to burst in and call for unionization), more palatable than your typical holiday film. For one thing, Ferrell, the former "Saturday Night Live" star, is a lot funnier than Tim Allen (trapped, it seems, in Pixar animation and "Santa Clause" sequels). And director Jon Favreau (writer on "Swingers," director of "Made") gets all the little moments right.

There's Ferrell as Buddy the Elf, who sits on the lap of his Papa Elf even though he's about three times bigger than the elf who adopted him. Papa is played with deadpan silliness by Bob Newhart, who narrates the story. There's a very funny performance by James Caan, who uses his tough-guy attitude to play a workaholic book publisher (and Buddy's biological father), whose cost-cutting and shady behavior have landed him on Santa's naughty list. There's a subversively giddy opening that's part Fractured Fairy Tale, part Rankin/Bass TV special (indeed, Burl Ives' immortal animated Sam the Snowman has a speaking cameo).

Mostly, though, it's Ferrell's show as his Buddy the Elf discovers he was taken in by Santa (Edward Asner, in a bit of a casting coup) and Company some 30 years ago. He really should have guessed sooner: His production of Etch-a-Sketches is way below quota and he's a full octave below his brethren in the elf choir. So, Buddy ventures to New York, clad in a tight green velvety suit, to seek out his real family.

The rest could practically write itself: the obligatory "Coming to America" montage, the department store freakout (think "Big"), the begrudging acceptance of Buddy by the dad who just needs to learn to lighten up and get some of that Christmas spirit.

While the second half of the film suffers a little from its necessary charter to be a sugary holiday treat complete with a festive red bow of an ending, there's still enough laughter to keep "Elf's" momentum going. Mostly that's Ferrell's doing. He plays Buddy as an ADD naif, an endlessly optimistic big kid who'll run into a seedy diner and scream "You did it! Congratulations!" because the neon sign outside says, "World's Best Coffee." Like his best "SNL" characters, Ferrell's Buddy is a contradiction: an easily bruised cheer-spreader big enough to tackle a fake Santa.

Favreau as director knows when enough is enough: He doesn't milk jokes for too long and he even allows Ferrell some nice romantic moments with Zooey Deschanel, an off-kilter and wise choice to play a bemused department store employee. (It's her character from "The Good Girl" with a little more sweetness and light.)

The most surprising thing about "Elf" is how family-friendly it remains. There's nary a naughty word in the whole 98 minutes and the scarce violence and language is of the pratfall and bodily function variety. Given the talent behind the film (Caan, Favreau, Ferrell), you expect at least the requisite screamed obscenity, but "Elf" plays it clean and finds its humor without breaking its spell.

It's the rare holiday film that doesn't induce eye-rolls. "Elf" is holiday cheer, smartly packaged and nicely wrapped.