Saturday, December 1, 2012

It’s A Stingy Fucking Lifetime*


Today is the beginning of 25 days of crappy Christmas movies and I’m so excited. I mentioned this to my sister yesterday and she laughed at me, and gave me a look that may have included an eye roll. I’ve forgiven her because she’s not usually so judgmental and because I am such an amazing person. Even though she didn’t use her words, I know what that eye roll meant. It meant that those movies are stupid and poorly acted, they’re completely predictable and full of sad, fallen stars that used to be on great shows we loved. My point exactly. I mean, of course if you’re going to judge based solely on quality of things like acting, script and directing, they’re crappy. So you have to hold these movies to a lower standard, because sometimes low standards are awesome.
I bet in some of them there’s going to be love, and in some there are going to be presents, and in some, there will be the greatest gift of all, love! That’s the magic of Christmas. Because for twenty-five days every year, I can love humanity, find the cuteness in strange children, and when I see a man with an axe, I can believe he’s getting ready to chop down a tree for his family not preparing to dismember me. And yeah, there’s some potential for the unfortunate whenever there’s a strange man with an axe, but again, magic of Christmas.
I’m only mildly ashamed to say that I let out an involuntary scream of joy when I came across The Consultant, starring David Hasselhoff as, “A consultant who helps a workaholic mother survive the holidays.” There’s also, Finding Mrs. Claus in which, “Santa Claus travels to Las Vegas to help a little girl and her mother.” And who’s in this? Mira Sorvino. I didn’t know she had fallen on hard times, but she has Christmas movies to keep her going. That’s amazing. But if you continue to scoff at the quality of the actors I will point out the existence of The Christmas Blessing, starring Neil Patrick Harris, and The Christmas Hope, starring Madeline Stowe. There’s an orphan in that one, and you really can’t top a Christmas orphan. Unless it’s with Natalie Wood in Miracle on 34th Street. She was only half an orphan and it is not a crappy Christmas movie, it is the best Christmas movie ever, the original, not the remakes which are crappy in a crappy way, not a good way, and anyone who participated in those should be ashamed. Santa hates you.
Today I watched The Christmas Caper, because that was obviously the best way to kick off December and optimize my Christmas joy. It has Shannen Dougherty as a cat burglar who has to hide out with her family for Christmas. And there’s a Christmas decorating montage in which someone falls off a stepladder into someone else’s arms, and I’m so happy when I watch that I could pee myself, but I don’t because I have that kind of control. For some reason, this one is not on Lifetime, and I bet someone got fired over that. But I have it on dvd. Obviously.  And I fucking love it; the movie not the firing, although that was deserved. Anyway, I own it and I watch it at least twice every year. Because you know what? I’m just completely fascinated by Shannen Dougherty for no defensible reason. I’m not going to apologize. I feel bad inside, but it’s not hurting anyone else. Not really. So, ok. Not all the movies are actually on Lifetime. But that’s ok. I’m not letting technicalities ruin the spirit of crappy Christmas movies. And that’s what matters.
And sometimes when the movies are not so great, when they are so spectacularly bad that I could never make it through if I was paying attention, I turn down the volume and try to figure out how to work Pinterest. Don’t follow me there until I get my shit together. I’ll let you know. Seriously, don’t look it’s embarrassing. And no, this is not reverse psychology. Leave that shit alone! Please.  In case you’re curious, this post was written under the influence of Recipe for a Perfect Christmas, which I would call a seven on the special standards scale, and that’s still enough to make me cry at the end, and only partly because Christine Baranski deserves better. Merry Christmas to me, and to you, and to all. Goodnight.

P.S. I’ve noticed that the movies are only on the weekends and not actually for an entire 25 days, but there are still like nine movies a week so I get to watch one every day anyway. I think it was different last year, but I can’t prove it. 

* I really wanted to call this post, It’s a Wonderful Lifetime, but since I didn’t think of that until I saw it (on Lifetime) there was just no way to avoid the fact that it would have been plagiarism, or copyright infringement, or something. So Fine. Stingy fucking Lifetime.**

** Sorry Lifetime. I think it's obvious that I secretly fucking love you. Dammit.