This labor....was terrifying.
I mean, I’ve made reference to the fact that gaslighting seems to be a common possible interpretation of Hallmark Movies. There is an element of our heroine being manipulated into falling for the Hunky Hunk O’ Destiny in all the films I’ve examined. But in this film, poor Brooke Burns is pressganged into being the Mother Figure for some weird family that only allows for Traditional Christmas Worship...and if you want to celebrate Christmas in other ways, like travelling the globe to experience Christmas Traditions in other countries, that’s Too Damn Bad. Unlike with the previous Labors, Burns’ Sydney is not unsettled or restless...but that doesn’t stop Jonathan’s family of wacky eccentrics in forcing her onto Jonathan.
Sydney, you see, is a flight attendant who is accompanying Jonathan’s daughter Leah (Sophie Neudorf) to Chicago from a visit with her grandparents. Jonathan (Tom Everett Scott, who seems a bit out of place here) is a newspaper columnist who writes heartwarming human interest stories...and he sees a story in Sydney, who was born here in The Windy City but lost her parents when she was very young. He offers to help her find out where her parents met while she waits for an open seat to Bali. And in searching for that story, Jonathan and his family brainwash her through frequent Traditional Christmas Rituals to the point where she gives up her dream job in Rome to become Leah’s New StepMom.
This one actively disturbed me because Sydney seems to literally have no free will whatsoever...and that so much of the backstory--which previous films could not shut up about--is unsaid. I was particularly worried that at no time are we told anything about Jonathan’s ex-wife...except, of course, that she’s dead. I like to think she was sacrificed by the family when she expressed, I don’t know, a desire to do something other than drink cocoa and decorate Christmas trees. The family members have no characterization; hell, the majority of them have no lines that don’t specifically refer to them telling Jonathan how Perfect Sydney is.
This film really made me uncomfortable. I certainly understand what my Hallmark Christmas Consultant William Bibbiani said about this being a cult-like experience. It really would not take much tweaking to make this into some indie-darling horror film that would end with, I dunno, Sydney helping the family stuff Uncle Arthur into a giant plum pudding or something as a final initiation. It’s funny, because it’s not the worst thing I’ve seen so far...but if given a choice between watching this or A Shoe Addict’s Christmas again, I’ll gladly do battle once more with my nemesis Candace Cameron Burr.
There’s other things I could talk about--this is the first film on my journey where I saw no people of color--but I think the best thing to do is to just step away from this creepy-ass artifact and never speak of it again.
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I feel I need something less...disturbing for tomorrow’s Labor. So how about we take a visit to the place Santa hangs out when he’s not gearing up for his worldwide distribution trip? Join me and Cynthia Rothrock (I still can’t believe you folks are only just now discovering her; I was grooving on her martial arts prowess back in the late 80‘s) as we take a tour of Santa’s Summer House!
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