Normal service is resumed with Christmas Inheritance, an identikit 2017 romcom cheesefest about an ambitious heiress getting a reality check and finding love in a quaint town during the most magical of seasons.
This one tells the story of Eliza Taylor's carefree socialite "party heiress" Ellen who, like most spoiled rich kids in these films, is a disappointment to her dad who sees her potential, despite her zany, boozy antics. I get deja vu watching this one and, right enough, dad decides the best way to get her to realise her untapped capabilities and earn her inheritance is to set her a nigh impossible task in a sweet wintery town in the middle of nowhere. The name of the town? Snow Falls, because of course it is. The mission? sShe must track down her father's reclusive old business partner Zeke (Anthony Sherwood) to hand over some important "Christmas letters". The catch? She's not allowed to tell anyone why she's there and must do this all with only one crisp 100 dollar bill.
It's a neat setup but naturally this all promptly descends into a cliche-ridden schmaltz-fest. Because Netflix give the people what they demand at Christmas.
Andie MacDowell appears as a wise, amiable diner manager and gets to sing a lovely Christmas carol, so that's something, I guess. However, this is mostly another box-ticking exercise - big city career girl, engaged to bad dude meets smalltown sweet fella who she'll have a hilarious love-hate relationship with for a bit until her newfound deeper appreciation of the simple life and value of charity turns it into a love-love one.
It's the sort of film where our heroine is unnaturally, catastrophically clumsy and where each little trip, mishap or runaway suitcase will lead her into the arms of the handsome guy she's meant to be with. This might seem cute if I hadn't already watched, like, a hundred of these things.
Jake Lacey is reliably hunky and cordial as multi-tasking hotel-owner love interest Jake, even if I have many unanswered questions about how this guy could be running a hotel, driving a taxi and making multiple awesome festive ice sculptures, all at the same time during the holiday season and without suffering a nervous breakdown. But hey, this is smalltown USA, where everyone takes life in their stride.
This one doesn't offer much to remember it by and coasts on the charm of Taylor and Lacey. It's more unspectacular stuff from Netflix whose super-smart algorithms must be telling them to keep fluff like this coming. Most will find the fairytale-ending structure of these things reassuringly comforting but my brain is starting to struggle with it all. What had initially back in January made me feel all gooey and warm is now making me tut, roll my eyes and want to see true love destroyed. That's not good, is it? Sorry Netflix, I know you mean well!
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