Scrooge. Grinch. Charlie Brown. Anything with Dean Cain. I’m addicted to Christmas movies.
Everything I am I learned from them.
I love the simplicity of the genre. It’s not rocket science; it’s not
calculus. It’s enchanting, harmless
escapism. Its childlike innocence and a
cup of hot chocolate with mini-marshmallows all rolled into one happy ending.
What is there not to love?
Miracles happen in Christmas movies at an inversely
proportional rate than at any other time of the year. It reinforces our belief in humankind – the
need for hearth and home, honor and fair play, humor and happiness. We get to
laugh at ourselves. We find redemption
through a myriad of vicarious, familiar experiences. Everyone ends up
happy.
I identify with people who make fools of themselves but learn
to laugh at their shortcomings. People
lose their way but rediscover their true selves and the right paths. Good always
wins in fair play. Loneliness hurts more
than vulnerability and risk.
I love that they are an integral part of our culture. It’s the
power of story, the Christmas genre we have come to expect. Christmas wouldn’t
be Christmas without the de rigueur Rudolph or Grinch, Scrooge or George
Bailey. Christmas without a Charlie
Brown Special or two? How would Hallmark, Lifetime, or the UP Channels fill
their lineups if they didn’t have the hundreds of catalogued Christmas Romances
to show during November and December?
Totally un-American.
We wrap up in our Snuggies and settle in every evening during
the holiday months to watch all our old faves and the thousands of offshoots
and variations that have borrowed their plots. Who cares that Scrooge has
morphed into a woman, a child, or a dog?
What is important is that we know that in the end, everyone and
everything will be resolved.
My favorite has to be A Christmas Story. I love Christmas for what it really is......Love.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Lea. I have so many favorites.
ReplyDelete