I have a confession to make.  Despite a degree in English and a few decades of teaching young people to appreciate and interpret great works of literature, I love cheesy, formulaic, plot-driven, cozy Christmas movies.

The elements of fiction are predictable—a lonely hero or heroine, a parent/spouse/significant other dies, the protagonist has survived a horrible divorce, or gets knocked over the head.  There’s a journey into unknown territory, the meeting of another lonely stranger of child-producing and/or rearing age. There is lots of snow, winter wonderland scenery, and of course falling in love and having to make the choice to leave the old lonely life or the wrong boyfriend/girlfriend/fiancé behind in favor of this new magically-delivered-in-time-for-Christmas person.

There are best friends and mentors.  A magical event involving a Cinderella-type dress.  Money problems are solved.  The beautiful castle/hotel/old family business will carry on.  But then, darn it, something from that pesky old life resurfaces and threatens to deny the hero or heroine the dreamy new life. 

Not to worry.  This is a cozy Christmas movie.  All will be well in the end.

Deep, personal losses will be overcome.  Broken relationships will mend.  The lonely single life will end so a thrilling married or partnered life can begin.

The conversations are a bit forced.  The wise oracle in the form of a neighbor/servant/co-worker meets the hero or heroine and immediately reveals secrets from the past that will unlock the heart of the resistant beloved.  Suddenly the perfect idea for saving the inn/family business/royal reputation dawns on the protagonist. 

But, oh, no! There’s a deadline to meet, or a flight plan to interrupt, or an engagement ceremony to crash.  The one who got away must be lassoed or show up at the last minute for a marriage performed by Santa Claus underneath the Christmas tree just as it starts to snow.

I’ve read enough 20^th century Existentialism and lived long enough to know that life will never be this neat, tidy, pretty, and well—cozy.  But wouldn’t it be wonderful?   

It renews my sense of hope to witness a thirty-year estrangement between a father and son resolve in one afternoon of putting up a Christmas tree using an old box of lights that flicker a few times before working properly.

It’s empowering to see that the pain of divorce and an empty nest can be overcome on a solo Christmas trip to a castle in Scotland or a wildlife sanctuary in Africa.

After a meet cute and a few twists and turns, a brand new life minus the problems of the old one appears beneath the Christmas tree. 

I snuggle into the recliner with my feet propped up and the remote controls handy.  I hold my warm mug of hot chocolate close to my chest and enjoy ninety minutes of what it felt like to wake up on Christmas morning before I figured out that my parents were behind all the mystery.  I suppose watching cozy Christmas movies is my way of playing Santa for the kid in me who still believes.

-Radiance Writer

  December 13, 2022

Photo by Kate Laine on Unsplash