A Castle for Christmas

A successful writer takes a risk in her most recent romance novel (Brooke Shields as Sophie), her adoring fans rather unamused, yet instead of taking their boisterous criticisms to supple caring heart, she openly defies them on daytime television, before taking off to Scotland.

Fortunately for her, at times different cultures see things differently, her latest book well received across the pond, she even joins a knitting group.

But first she explores the castle where she's suddenly taken roost, its lengthy history of literary interest along with its agile duke (Cary Elwes as Duke Myles).

Unfortunately for him, his debts are forcing him to sell, even though he could hold on to the castle, if he parted ways with its coveted farmland.

But then his tenants would have to move and he's an exemplary aristocrat, caring deeply for his people indeed for whom he feels responsible.

Sophie's headstrong ways produce unexpected uncertain affects, especially after she makes an offer, he has to admit, he likes it.

But it's still his cherished castle and it's been in his family for generations, he can't be expected to passively yield when a well-meaning upstart makes suggestions.

They passionately air grievances with increasingly affectionate disputatious praise.

As the Holiday Season takes hold.

And l'amour seems most inviting.

Perhaps it's too much to take in too much cute and cuddly grouchy romance, daunting challenges inspirational miracles haughty hesitation communal resolve.

Fervent fetching fortuitous fairytale or amorous callings too sweet and saccharine, I can't find fault with its grand magnanimity, nor its jolly merrymaking supporting cast.

'Tis true that there are many a miser who disputes the free-flow of capital, as it's applied to the needs of the many who would rather not live from paycheque to paycheque.

With disposable incomes do realms not flourish with ample sustenance and much less crime?

But there are also many rich folk who genuinely care for underprivileged plights, who are still trying to overcome encumbrances which dissuade the cultivation of relative prosperity.

A Castle for Christmas presents such examples and festively celebrates their strong self-sacrifice, showcasing sincere conscientious goodwill fumbling its way through traditional romance.

As pride adheres to the virtues of compromise age old traditions see communal rebirth.

I don't think I'll watch it every year.

Still enjoyed it this Holiday Season.

Deck the Halls

Meticulously prepared for the upcoming holidays, a fastidious optometrist get things done (Matthew Broderick as Mr. Finch), his loving family receptive to his obsessive celebrations, embracing each vital tradition, with resignéd calm.

But a new neighbour suddenly appears across the suburban street one night, who's less familiar with rigid reservations, preferring the lighthearted easy going improvisational holiday approach, he freely and oddly expresses himself, with well-meaning lovable charm (Danny DeVito as Buddy Hall).

Unfortunately for Mr. Finch, Buddy decides to set up Christmas lights, and goes far beyond a modest array, indeed hoping his house will be visible from space, the ultimate salute to excessive glitz and glamour.

Even more unfortunately for Mr. Finch, Buddy's luminous galactic ambitions lead him to become the most sought after Christmas expert in town, a position formerly held by Mr. Finch himself, who becomes more and more furious with each passing day.

He vociferously airs his grievances yet feisty Buddy does not back down, the two then engaging in grandiose shenanigans which the cross-dressing police chief (Garry Chalk) cannot contain.

Their respective wives and families grow rather weary of the childish rivalry, yet their wise counsel is stubbornly ignored as the festive conflict madly intensifies.

And somewhere along the way the communal spirit of the Holiday Season is lost.

Will the competitive incensed pair?

Forgive and forget, in time for Christmas?

Channeling Planes, Trains & Automobiles, Deck the Halls showcases wild aggravation, blindly expanding distressful atrophy, the uptight professional, the self-made person.

Different lucrative skill sets still hopefully flourish in the North American economy, they provide so much remarkable spice for a thriving culture dynamically composed.

The benefits of a University education the confidence you develop from its projects and tests, not to mention the wide variety of divergent subjects to study, cultivating level-headed prudent multiplicity.

The benefits of the working world instructing the daring with multidimension, as different experiences at different levels in different jobs produce impeccable hands-on contention. 

Perhaps the most successful CEOs find a way to blend the different approaches, not only personally but with their staff as well, as their businesses develop open-minded spectrums. 

Less jealousy for the devoutly studious and fewer dismissals of practical knowledge, could lead to a more well-rounded prosperous business, or simply friendships indeed like no other. 

Puppy Star Christmas

An adorable dog couple welcomes some new pups to their family, while enjoying celebrity in the public eye, and wondering if they'll make good parents.

It's the Holiday Season once again and they're preparing to host a Christmas Special, and it's rumoured that Santa himself may attend, if not advertised with festive vigour.

But a rogue rival self-obsessed canine has grown tired of making an honest buck (George Newbern as Bark), and decides to enlist contacts from his villainous network in an attempt to take down the North Pole.

Since the elves are generally concerned with do-gooding they're ill-prepared for Bark's sneak attack, and his team quickly infiltrates Santa's workshop and soon locks down Mr. and Mrs. Claus!

They proceed to convert that very same workshop into a commercial purveyor of sought after goods, transforming the free toys Santa generously provides into lucrative commodities indeed for sale.

Such wickedness is shortly followed by an appearance on Tiny (Kaitlyn Maher) and P.U.P's (Mackenzie Sol) Special, where they advertise their soul crushing debauchery with outrageous voracious mad ill-gotten song.

Fortunately for Christmas, the aforementioned pups stow away on Santa's sled (it was borrowed by Bark's minions to fly to the Special), and soon find themselves at the North Pole, nervously determined to rescue Saint Nick.

But Bark's carnal influence and unwitting publicity has seen ye olde naughty list expand exponentially.

Are they too late to save Christmas?

Or is it serendipitous impeccable timing?

Only Christmas will tell, or a keen viewing of this here Puppy Star Christmas, I admit I hadn't seen a dog movie in some time (except for Plague Dogs which wasn't a family film [or wasn't a cutesy sentimental family film]), and wasn't prepared for the cuddliness initially.

But it was kind of cool to briefly immerse myself in a non-cartoon world where dogs can speak, and have their own shows and homes and families and are on an equal footing with adoring humanity.  

Strict logicians may find fault with Puppy Star's inspired non-traditional reasonability, even if it augments the wonders of Santa and his benevolent impetus this time of year.

Puppy Star's blunt depiction of super-greed wholesomely castigates avarice unbound, thereby celebrating altruistic endeavours without leaving joyous reckoning behind.

If you're still in touch with inner absurdity or things that seem nuts you may like this film.

It's fun to think about afterwards.

Perfect for the Holiday Season. 

The Knight Before Christmas

A bold knight (Josh Whitehouse as Sir Cole) honourably avails emphatically attuned to the 14th century, warmly accustomed to duty and responsibility as he bravely embraces work and play.

But he has yet to fulfill a quest and thereby improve his chivalric standing, the lack of enchanted adventurous reckoning causing him sincere subconscious dismay.

Until one day alone in the woods what's referred to as "an old crone" mysteriously appears, and tells him of "steel dragons" and "magic boxes" far off in the distant future.

Soon he's transported to the present day without much information to clarify his purpose, when a weary damsel comes to his aid and provides food and shelter for the upcoming holidays (Vanessa Hudgens as Brooke).

She's depressed after having recently lost one whom she loved who treated her crudely, casting her off for the attentions of another who remains uncritical of his unjust behaviour.

As a result, an honest and trusting heartfelt lass has lost faith in true love, and even shares her woebegone misgivings with her confused students as they seek her counsel.

The knight proves a novel distraction as he reacts to the ways of the present, marvelling at the bounty to be found at the supermarket, chasing skunks, and learning to drive.

But he can't figure out his quest and its imposing deadline looms.

Will he find the solution in time?

Or will blasé cynicism ignite disdain!?

Amorously blending cultural codes from disparate centuries united by romance, The Knight Before Christmas exuberantly chronicles timeless star-crossed endearing affection.

Also rewarding charity and self-sacrifice it doesn't shy away from constructive do-gooding, and doesn't present scandalous ulterior motives for age old cohesive communal camaraderie. 

Certainly one must remain vigilant to counter stratagems which prey on trust, but you also can't become so cold and isolated that you no longer recognize genuine honesty.

It's a fine balance that's continuously shifting as new developments strikingly emerge, patterns adapting to unprecedented reactions to newfound endeavours reverberating wonder.

Brooke's strong heart is rewarded by supernatural witchcraft concerned with well-being, the knight also learning to extend himself beyond traditional yearnings for legendary renown.

Within postmodern domesticity he finds grand adventure facilitated.

As so many often do.

Even if you rarely hear about it. 

*Shot in brilliant locations.

Last Christmas

Carefree actions solipsistically proceed provoking criticism from friends and family, as an angelic ingenue can't adapt to grown up surroundings, yet still seeks age old immersions, repercussions notwithstanding.

Plus a place to crash for a while.

She could be doing well if she focused a bit more intently, but she's mastered everything at work (not me, Emilia Clarke as Kate), and doesn't realize she's full-on bored.

The dating scene provides nightly distractions replete with unpredictable highs and lows, but everyone she knows is pairing off, and don't have time for young adult shenanigans.

Yet as she flounders and misperceives a kindhearted beau comes a sweetly calling, appearing at opportune times, looking for more than just random repartee (Henry Golding as Tom).

He's nice so he's initially ignored but that doesn't mean he's not making a good impression, something reliable like grandma's home cookin', the Parc 80 bus, Cinéma du Parc, or Parc Jeanne-Mance.

Yet even as things start to seem perfect, and realignments lead to deep rapprochements, something bewilders anon beyond expression, with otherworldly immaterial spirit.

Could it be that the stars have aligned and Kate's begun to accept motivational absurdities, work fuelling her bright recrudescence, with biodegradable salubrious levity?

That she's rediscovered longlasting momentum?

Just in time for Christmas?

I can't say for certain, although Last Christmas is a very cool Christmas film, reimagining traditional themes with endearing revelation, stratified with delectable felicity.

Evaluating a Christmas film according to less festive criteria, misses the supernatural sentiment, inasmuch as it's something different from standard verbose ephemera, that's enthused with yuletide counterpoint.

The supernatural elements in Christmas films arise from less contemporary ingenious distillations, elements that can still dazzle and innocently sway, if they aren't considered realistically verifiable.

If you take a vibrant culture aligned with realistic endeavours and wipe out all its predilections for fantasy, you risk the same errors a theocracy generates as it uniformly glorifies legendary impossibility.

The Holiday Season adds a bit of harmless realistic fantasy to a world that's often obsessed with logic, and it's not that logic's a bad thing, but without fantastic distractions it can breed depression.

There's a book there.

Last Christmas blends reality and fantasy with charming even hardboiled engagement, introducing multiple relatable realities, enlivened through tangible spirit.

It's not hard to let loose and enjoy traditions that may indeed seem somewhat absurd.

Is it better to always laud materialism?

There's too much coincidence to suggest that's all there is.

Even if it's foolhardy to try to classify it.

Happy Holidays everyone, whatever you celebrate this time of year!

I hope you're enjoying time with friends and family.

Chillin' a bit with elastic cheer.

The Christmas Chronicles

The Christmas spirit has hit a critical low as people across North America stubbornly refuse to believe.

And Santa's (Kurt Russell) in trouble.

His sleigh having encountered unexpected turbulence, he's lost touch with his reindeer, and crash landed in Chicago.

He needs help, and even though he provides the adult world with ample evidence to prove he's authentic, expressing himself in different languages and reflexively presenting the perfect gift, its cold shoulder is still bluntly given, and he must therefore improvise distraught on the road.

Those who have stowed away for the journey, or part of the journey, find themselves lost in hostile streets alone, within which wits must be developed then relied upon, as potential ends for corrupt pastimes ring true.

While Santa heads to prison.

His characteristic charm and overflowing goodwill ensure he still makes the most of it, but at points things do seem rather grim, like Who-ville on lockdown, or blind commercial obsessions.

Yet true believers still remain committed to setting him free.

With hopes he will finish his work.

And save the Holiday Season yet again.

In The Christmas Chronicles.

Wherein innocence is exonerated.

A bit too hasty, perhaps, time is an issue, but naive assumptions don't compensate for productive tension.

If Santa's appeals in the restaurant had been less confident, and his audience had been more willing to listen, for instance, the result wouldn't have seemed so rushed, and stronger emotions could have been sincerely generated.

Chronicles excels at critiquing hard-hearted dismissals of the season, but still stuffers from a surplus of disbelief, which creates a bleak atmosphere, much less infused with seasonal mirth making.

Santa can't do it all himself, although Russell impresses.

Try not to misunderstand, as far as Christmas films go, it's better than many, and Santa's blunt spirited enthusiasm is endearing.

But the film's more like a video game than a movie, like Santa has to boldly pass level after level, quickly, instead of just reacting and commenting within a deep narrative.

The binge viewing aesthetic is oddly like a video game, or at least much less like a broadcast television show.

Rather than lure viewers in with great stories, perhaps binge oriented series are trying to make them feel just as great for having finished an episode as they would have had they passed a level?

Thus, although presenting hearty protagonists reverently dedicated to the holiday season, The Christmas Chronicles would have benefitted from a little more time and patience.

That perfect gift doesn't just materialize out of thin air or show up thanks to formulae or speculation.

It takes love, foresight, originality, and spontaneity, to demand it be purchased.

Or placed upon a heartfelt wish list.

Written with care.

Mailed due North.

The Grinch

The Holiday Season taunts the miserly Grinch (Benedict Cumberbatch) yet again, its festive goodwill and celebratory merrymaking envisioned as definitive signs of hedonistic excess, unable to distinguish joyous relaxation from essential work undone, he sets out to ruin everything for the dear innocent unsuspecting Whos, their innate playfulness an affront to his cynical brooding, their kindness and sympathy misguided petulance unresolved, barest immaterial austere thrift left in stubborn, jealous mean-spirits, with no one to nurture or provide counsel, he villainously calculates, in the latest stubborn Grinch.

Although it's not as intense as all that, this amusing grinchy manifestation, the new Grinch much less menacing than his animated forefather, much less wicked, much less cruel, even if he pursues the same goals in the end, even if he categorically denies the Holiday Season, his will still grouchy but not cantankerous, his evil existent but not Barad-Dûr.

Esque.

Rather than demonizing the Grinch as purest incarnate evil, this version presents him as more of a comic figure, still in possession of sundry implements of ill-will, still quite disparaging when in the company of others, he also clearly loves his resident companions, and relies on them as would have Scrooge upon nothing.

He bumbles as he broils, stumbles as he strategizes, admits to making bad decisions, perhaps even goes with the flow.

And shares things.

Thus, while the atmosphere of this reimagined Grinch isn't as solemn as that found in the iconic cartoon, it's also much more balanced, and downright cheerful at times, as if everyone involved had adequate resources at their disposal and was not adverse to carolling lightly.

I never saw Jim Carrey's version.

At that time I was angry about the remake.

However, Cindy-Lou Who's (Cameron Seely) Mom (Rashida Jones) is stuck working nights, and rarely has time to sleep after caring for her young family.

They aren't wanting but she's wiped, although the Holidays still regenerate her spirit of loving self-sacrifice.

Whoville itself overflows with seasonal ingenuity and although its ingenious gifts for creating unique means through which to revel aren't showcased as often as I would have liked, there are still moments of aged brilliance, inventive gesticulation seamless and smooth.

The new Grinch film therefore functions like a thoughtful bourgeois paradigm, goods available for all without constant feasting, cultural particularities present but not circumspect, good times waxing at brisk beckoned calls, chillin' and distillin', radioactive heartbeat bliss.

The elation during the film's final moments, the classic ending that wondrously captures the spirit of the Holidays, still rejoices with unrestrained contentment, still abounds with effervescent cheer.

The Grinch may even find himself more sympathetic, even somewhat gracious as he basks in its blithe comforts.

Is it that hard to love generous spirits?

To embrace warmth and friendliness anew?