Why Netflix Christmas Movies are Everything

What I’m about to say might shock you… But just hear me out, k?

Netflix Christmas movies are brilliant.

I know what you’re thinking. And yes, I am referring to the likes of A Christmas Prince and Merry Kiss-mas. And yes, they are terrible, but they’re terribly wonderful.

I know that some movies are just objectively bad. I get it. These films certainly won’t be winning any awards, but there’s something satisfying, humbling, and—dare I say, self aware?—in the way these ultra-low budget films put a PG-rated lens on your life for approximately 90 minutes. 

They conjure a simpler (read: fictional) time, when financial woes could be turned around with a simple backyard concert, when the most scandalous thing that a person could do was get caught kissing, and snow storms were nothing but warm, cozy excuses to fall in love with someone you met mere moments earlier. You don’t need to be witty or charming or even that cute, it just happens because Christmas! 

They all follow a familiar, tried and true template: two straight, beautiful-in-a-basic way people meet somewhere Christmassy, solve a problem together (usually with miscommunication and magic) and they always end up madly in love at the end. It’s not rocket science, which is never more evident than when listening to the actual dialogue of these movies. I heard a “British” character say, “Keep calm and carry on,” IN TWO DIFFERENT MOVIES. 

The point is, they’re trite, they’re exceedingly unrealistic, and they’re packed with actors who are desperately trying to fill their IMBD pages (or make a comeback after a scandal), but I simply cannot get enough of them and neither can the rest of America apparently because they just keep on coming. Hallmark created 40 original Christmas masterpieces this year, and Netflix just made A Christmas Prince into a trilogy by releasing The Royal Baby the other day—and having just watched The Royal Wedding for the first time, I can assure you that the two main characters have the least chemistry I’ve seen on screen maybe ever. The prince’s face is far too slappable. But am I going to watch The Royal Baby? You can bet your ass I am.  

So what is it about these cringey movies full of plot holes and failed engagements that we love so much?

For one, the low budget-ness almost makes it feel accessible. Like, I’m watching these movies and thinking, “I could act in a movie like this,” and “I could write a movie script like that!” and “OMG that’s exactly how I used to pretend to take serious, journalistic notes when I was 10 years old!” 

Then there’s the occasional super hot guy! And you just know the heroine-wearing-off-brand-Converse will walk into a room, totally not expecting to see him standing there naked as can be except for his little, tiny towel. Oh, and how bashful he is! What a damn gentleman. It reminds me of being a middle schooler with hormones raging, dreaming of a sweet, beautiful man-boy who would only ever try to get to first base because the other bases were terrifying. 

Next there’s the story line popular in pretty much every Christmas movie that has ever existed—the transformative properties of the Christmas spirit: the magical moment where a sad, holiday-hating fool changes into the jolliest holiday hero who ever lived. Because people DO change. And all hope is NOT lost.

Then there’s the fact that things like politics (unless they’re relating to a fictional country *cough* Aldovia *cough*) are never mentioned. Sure, most parents and partners are dead in these movies, but that’s the extent of the real-life issues that surface. It’s usually a beautiful moment where the two main characters are getting to know each other that it’s revealed that their mom/dad/wife/husband choked on fruit cake or fell off of a reindeer and the holidays have just never been the same since. While missing a loved one during the holidays is oh-so real, these moments take up about three minutes of the movie, never involve big, fat wine tears, and usually don’t come up again, so you can go right back to baking sugar cookies and walking in on that hottie in a towel. 

These movies don’t have much to offer on the surface, but they’re the metaphorical equivalent of a warm, cinnamon-bun-scented blanket with an image of a golden retriever puppy wearing a Santa hat that we all need this time of year.