I hate it when a film preferences dull if competent romance over presposterous dialogue and wooden leads.
This has to be one of my all-time favourite bad films, a total pick me up for if you’re feeling bad-crappy and need something good-crappy. How do you know a film is the one? When it opens on teenagers in the ’80s complaining about boys not wanting to have sex, to the soundtrack of the All I Want for Christmas rip-off song, “Santa Bring a Boyfriend to Me”.
DING DING DING DING, WE HAVE A WINNER!
This film was made just 4 years ago, a fact which I can’t get my head around by how hideously grainy the video quality is. The VHS-style technique plus the protagonist’s mum’s hairstyle are very ’80s. Naturally I’m going into this film with very little trust.
Your classic romance: a single mum, a mall Santa pretending to be a travelling salesman (like that’s cooler?), a rapper ex- and all watched over by mystical Queen Latifah.
I see you, Susan, using that old trick from year nine where you type in a bigger font so it looks like you’ve written more than you have. Classic move.
At first I couldn’t find a director credit at all, then I found two. Like buses aren’t they, directors. You wait for ages and then they bring you a perfect turd film. Or something like that.
No prizes for guessing what this film might entail: three sisters face weddings, babies and apparently Christmas (though blink and you’ll miss that last one).
This is another of those films about a woman in a coma who sets out to stop Big Business buying out her small town– how is this now a subgenre I recognise and see regularly in seasonal films? What is it about a horrible car crash and potential loss of business that screams Christmas!!! to Jack Angelo and his pals?
After gems like The National Tree and A Very Cool Christmas, sitting down to this film is a bit underwhelming. There’s a cute dog and a nice orchestral score- bloody hell, you know it’s not that good a bad film when my notes included “nice score”. That’s how dull A Golden Christmas is.