Hat On A Hat: 25 Essential Christmas Movies
Day Twenty Three: A Hallmark Movie That Does Not Exist
Hallmark Movie (Imaginary) - The Hallmark (or Lifetime, or Netflix) Christmas movie is a cornerstone of the seasonal entertainment calendar. Every year from Halloween on, a veritable cornucopia of cozy, Yuletide fare hits the small screen, on two Hallmark channels (or some networks), 24-7. Most of these are, shall we say, variations on a theme: hard-charging city gal returns to her charming, quaint hometown for Christmas. There, she engages in holiday antics with family and friends, patronizes a seemingly endless parade of winter holiday-themed small businesses and – spoiler alert – meets a beau. This fellow comes in one of two guises: the shaggily handsome long-ago high school sweetheart who splits his time between raising his daughter and running his family Christmas Tree farm, or a handsome prince in hiding; Small Town USA apparently has an incalculable surplus of incognito royals trolling for hot cocoa and lovelorn women, while somehow totally eluding social media. Sure, it’s cheesy. But who doesn’t like to pair an eggnog nightcap with a guaranteed happy ending? Said ending typically finds the city gal reordering her priorities, downsizing her career aspirations and embracing the glories of small-town life (or the royal transfer).
But what of those who envision a different kind of happy ending? Do they have viewing options? How about a twist on the old Hallmark formula? For your consideration:
Our heroine, let’s call her Lacey (a nod to Christmas movie queen Lacey Chabert) works in New York in a high-gloss, high-profile joB – PR and marketing for a Goop-style wellness brand. She lives with her handsome, urbane, meticulously coifed boyfriend Kyle, an associate at a white-shoe law firm. They share the kind of airy, cool apartment that millennials and Gen Xers (the sweet-spot protagonist demo) can afford only on TV. Despite working long hours, Lacey and Kyle manage to enjoy the dining-out and cocktail party-soaked life of a successful white-collar double-income, no-kids couple. If Kyle’s laser-focus on making partner has delayed marriage a bit, Lacey has no complaints — she’s career-focused, too. When the time comes for her annual pilgrimage home for Christmas, he stays behind (a work crisis. maybe, or just a desire to avoid the travails of holiday travel). Even though Mom and Dad put some good-natured pressure on her to settle down, and she trades barbs with an acerbic younger brother, overall, home is delightful.
While buying a last-minute wreath for her grandmother, Lacey encounters Doug, an old flame from her teenage years. Doug is now a single dad (his ex fled off to points unknown through no fault of his own) who looks great in a flannel shirt and, unlike Kyle, knows how to change a tire. The wreath shed is near the ice rink where Lacey meets Doug’s daughter, Sally, a preternaturally charming nine-year-old with strong feelings on Santa. She and Doug convince Lacey to skate, and then to join them at a church-hall screening of Meet Me In St. Louis, and for a visit to their farm where they make snow angels. It’s nostalgic, but also a lot of activity for one day – with a guy you haven’t seen since high school.
The next day, Christmas Eve, Lacey goes to buy breakfast pastries and Helen, the bakery’s proprietress, tells her that she’s “never seen Doug so happy,” before launching into some broad statements about how much simpler and purer life in town is compared to the Big City. Lacey finds the chat unnerving: When did Helen see Doug? Why was he talking about her? Also, the whole anti-city thing was a little judgmental. Lost in thought, and perhaps longing for the anonymity of New York where the purchase of a bagel comes without a schmear of proclamations about one’s social life, Lacey collides with a passerby on the street. This tall, handsome stranger has an haute air and a lilting, tony accent. He introduces himself as Nicholas and asks her to join him for a stroll. While walking, Nicholas lets slip that he’s of noble lineage — he’s a Luxembourgeois duke who’s living life incognito stateside. He had his reasons for fleeing the palace, but Lacey doesn’t quite catch all of them. She’s distracted by the seemingly endless parade of costumed carolers. She’s no Grinch, but this place’s downtown can’t be more than four or five blocks, and surely the wassailing could be confined to one or two. A trio of Dickensian-garbed singers on every corner seems like overkill.
Later, Lacey visits the local market — Mom forgot to get cranberry sauce for Christmas dinner — and Julie, the grocer, asks about her date with the prince. “He’s a duke,” Lacey mutters, while politely restraining herself from pointing out that this is none of Julie’s business.
Back at home, Lacey’s parents encourage her to doll up for the annual Christmas pageant. It’s a festive affair that Lacey is dreading; frankly, everyone in this town is a bit of a busy-body. No matter, tradition is tradition. Lacey attends the pageant, where costumed carolers walk amongst plain-clothed civilians as if the mix is perfectly normal. Lacey runs into Nicholas who tells her that she has opened his eyes to the possibility of love. This is confusing, mostly because they have spent a total of one afternoon together. She explains that she cannot run away with him because things rarely turn out well for independent women who get entangled with European royal families. Nicholas leaves dejected, to do whatever it is that rejected dukes do (not Lacey’s problem).
Having dispensed with Nicholas, Lacey finds herself facing Doug and Sally. Sally, all puppy-dog eyes and gap-toothed smiles, pleads with Lacey to spend Christmas morning with them. When Lacey politely declines because she’s here to see her family, Doug lays it on thick, telling her that all Sally wants for Christmas is for him to find happiness. Feeling not at all responsible for Doug’s happiness, or his precocious moppet’s hopes and dreams, Lacey offers that she doesn’t get to see her parents and brother all that often, so ditching them on Christmas is a deal-breaker. Also, she has a boyfriend, Kyle, and a life she really likes back in New York. Lacey wishes Doug a Merry Christmas and better luck with his romantic future. She goes off to find her parents, hoping they have had their fill of the Christmas pageant.
Christmas Day is, fortunately, just what Lacey had hoped for: family time around the tree, a lovely home-cooked meal and a pleasing lack of the ghosts of high school boyfriends past or pining royals present. While bonding with Mom, Lacey reveals that she’s up for a promotion — VP of Communications — so she might not be back to visit for a while. Mom is crestfallen, but very proud to have raised such a hard-working and ambitious daughter. She inquires about Kyle, whom she quite likes, despite that hair. Before Lacey can offer an excuse for Kyle’s absence, the doorbell sounds with joyful jingle-jangle. It’s Kyle, bearing gifts and apologies for not arriving sooner. He proposes a family trip to the rink, but Lacey puts the kibosh on that idea — an adult woman can only do so much ice-skating in a week. The family, plus Kyle, enjoys a Christmas roast and an evening on the sofa.
The next morning, while en route home, Kyle remarks on the picturesque charm of Lacey’s town. Would she ever want to return here permanently, he wonders? Lacey declares she would not, and that she doesn’t want him getting any big ideas. For one thing, the town’s economy seems primarily Christmas and winter-based (pine tree farms, ice rinks, cocoa stands and a wacky number of Ye Aulde Christmas Shoppes), so she’s not exactly sure what she would do for work the rest of the year. Moreover, there’s the whole awkwardness with various clingy would-be-suitors. In fact, perhaps next year she and Kyle should host her family for the holidays. After all, there’s nothing like the magic of Christmas in New York City.