You don’t care what the cynics say, this unashamedly cheesy, multi-stranded snog-athon is your festive fave – and it’s a culture war you’re prepared to tool up for. Sure, you hold your nose during the Kris Marshall bits and you’ve always struggled to justify how a man who two-times his own best mate can possibly be held up as a romantic hero, but deep down you reckon that it’s all nitpicking when there’s 78 other cheery Richard Curtis subplots to pick from. And, no, you don’t want to hear about The Holiday. The Holiday is for the weak.
Everyone loves a good Christmas movie. No matter how cynically someone acts, deep down they’ve got a film that instantly makes them think of hot cocoa, warm fires, cold nights and sweet treats. The thing is, not everyone loves the same Christmas movies. Some prefer the classics, where some greedy old crank learns the reason for the season by way of helpful angels and/or vengeful ghosts. Others enjoy light, fluffy, knowingly corny romcoms where two pretty singles meet cute at a tree farm or something. And some want to hear Santa curse or watch some stuff get blown up while jingle bells chime on the soundtrack.
Hey, all of them are valid, as long as there’s some snow, jolly fat men and a message that speaks to what the holiday is all about, preferably in a non-preachy way. But there are enough variations on the Christmas formula that our favourites speak to something deep within our individual personalities. What, exactly? Well, allow us to extrapolate.