Forgiving the Gift of Holiday Television Movies
It’s now December 1st, and already there has been five months of Christmas and other holiday television films on W, Hallmark, and similar stations. Just kidding, but their annual programming actually has already started, which honestly is no surprise. Like the year round TV movie material, there is an actual industry or great value in the holiday film scene. This has nothing to do with works like It’s a Wonderful Life or A Christmas Story. I strictly mean television films that are made with a low budget, the same five faces, and identical storylines (sans settings, careers and the like, all decided seemingly by mad-lib games). It’s ad nauseam: x person winds up in a new place or a new job, either relating to a break up or subsequently leading to a break up with y partner who is in their own little world. They meet z, who is a new love interest who really makes it clear early on that they and x will end up together. All of this takes place during the holidays (usually Christmas). There’s a fight. There’s a reconciliation. It snows and the holiday spirit is in the air.
As snarky as I am right now, it’s only meant to be light fun. Truth be told, I am not a fan of these films myself, but I know quite a lot because numerous people that are close to me do like them, therefore I watch a handful every winter. At the end of the day, they’re actually harmless. The reason why I don’t have a problem with them is because of how blatant they are about their mission. They’re meant to generate money, but they don’t con you into thinking otherwise, and they’re funding smaller film industries, particularly cast and crew that aren’t working in bigger capacities, and big names who like the honest, profitable work here. Both viewers and employees are getting exactly what they signed up for. It’s a nice practice. Compared to a number of big blockbusters which feel much less genuine, holiday films aren’t trying to get you to watch them. They know their audience, and it’s specifically for those who want to watch this fare. Besides, conceptually, they’re almost like anti blockbusters: they’re quiet instead of loud, they’re calm instead of obnoxious, and they’re small instead of gigantic.
Could I judge these films against the blockbusters I don’t like, or virtually any other film ever? Yes. Yes I can. Art is subjective, and everything carries varying degrees of merit depending on how you rate them. However, there just isn’t any need for me to in my mind. At the very best, they would be a 3 out of 5. At their worst, likely a 1: so bad that I enjoy adding my own two cents. It won’t do any good to anyone except the holiday film crowd, and even then I clearly am not obsessed with these myself, so I’m clearly not an expert enough to do this remotely the right way.
To me, trying to judge Christmas films is like comparing egg nog to a gourmet cake or an exquisite wine. Why are we trying to pit mindless, soothing works that are made for the sole purpose of bringing joy and/or calmness, against other films? It’s why they’re the same story. It’s why it’s with the same people. Everyone working on these films, and everyone that loves them, know exactly what’s in store for them, and that’s part of the appeal. It’s festively-appropriate material to unwind with after a year of hell. After 2020, I’m sure we could all use that. So, I won’t be diving into these films myself, but I don’t judge anyone who will be. I’m not going to be bullying the shy kid who just wants to make everyone holiday cookies for their classmates.
And then you can make the worst Christmas film ever, if you’re this guy. I have no problem reminding you that Saving Christmas is truly one of the worst films I’ve ever seen.
Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.