So, it’s finally over. Or, to nicely bookend this tale with a quote from another motley crew of glam rockers, "it's only just begun," because as Noddy Holder would say, "It's Christ-maaaaaaassssss!"
I breathe a massive sigh of relief before giving snoozing Amelia a little shake, whispering that the cookies left out last night have disappeared, apparently gobbled up by ‘Santa’. As the child duly goes berserk, racing down the stairs to attack the pile of gifts under the tree, I allow myself a self-satisfied little smile.
I did it. I successfully watched (and wrote about) a Christmas movie every single day for an entire bloody year and though at times it came close to driving me insane, I managed it. Mission accomplished. But what, dear reader, have I learned?
I think back to that infernal article from over a year ago, the one that helped inspire this foolhardy crusade. What did it say again? Something about watching Christmas movies all year round being really good for the soul and all that?
I can concur that, early on in my quest at least, the mega-schmaltz of the Hallmark and the kids movies did quite often create a noticeable ‘neurological shift,’ as promised, that ‘spiked dopamine’ and produced a fair bit of happiness. Right enough, most of these corny, unabashedly 'feel-good' films did exactly that – they made me feel better, during those bleak, dark winter months when the world just feels that little bit crappier than normal.
My little family also went through some monumentally arduous stuff this year, from Covid, to health scares, to the traumatic saga that was the house sale. I must confess that watching these movies did, in some small way, help me get through those distressing moments. It goes without saying that this has been one of the hardest, most traumatic years I’ve ever experienced but having a little bit of yuletide stardust to look forward to each day has definitely helped brighten my days.
Surely, that’s what Christmas is all about? Bringing a little light to the dark? Well, this year, it certainly has for me.
Still, I’m not going to pretend I’ve always enjoyed it – there have been days when watching yet another festive romance about people with names like Noelle, Carol, Holly or Nick has been the last thing I’ve wanted to do. I've definitely felt myself becoming jaded with the whole thing, exasperated with tropes that normal people doing normal things like watching the odd couple of festive movies a year would never give much mind to, but to me have become maddening.
Why are there so many dead parents in these things? How many Dickens adaptations do we really need? How many European principalities with lonely lovesick monarchs can there realistically be? And how many Christmas films can Ed Asner possibly star in?!?!
Yes, it’s definitely been a mixed bag, emotions-wise. Though these films have, at times, really raised my spirits, at other times the samey-ness of many of them has brought me close to putting my head through the screen.
I check that article again and notice a key phrase that I probably should have taken more notice of first time around. The bit that explains that anything that “takes us out of our normal everyday humdrum routine will send signals to our senses” and, essentially make us happier.
I read that part again – “anything that takes us out of our normal everyday humdrum routine”.
Ah, crap.
I suddenly realise the fatal flaw in the article and, essentially, in my entire foolhardy movie mission. In watching festive films every day, they cease to be the break from the norm. For me, Christmas movies have become the humdrum routine. Though they've occasionally worked their magic to cheer me up on dark days, towards the end of the quest especially, these movies have predominantly become a major chore to sit through, save for the ones that transcended normal formula, like Klaus, Comfort and Joy and Arthur Christmas.
Like an addict, for me the ‘high’ that comes with watching Christmas movies eventually became just the norm and so not much fun anymore. Yet, I kept chasing that high anyway until I almost couldn’t handle it anymore. Thank God I put a one year limit on this thing.
I’ve definitely learned that, like any guilty pleasure, indulging in the occasional Christmas film can be a very pleasant experience indeed. However, everything in moderation, eh?
Like I said, when Roy Wood sang about wishing it could be Christmas every day, I very much doubt he thought it through. Though, with hindsight, the song could just be a metaphor for wanting people to be kind and giving and happy all year round. That would be nice. Looking back, in my blind desire to just go and do something a bit mad and different, I possibly acted rather rashly and did not think this whole thing through. Okay, definitely.
Speaking of doing something mad, I confess that, throughout this entire experiment, I did not ever get round to telling my wife what I’ve been up to. Those scientists could probably write another very interesting article about why the hell I’ve consciously kept this whole thing a secret from my nearest and dearest, but oh well.
After a relaxing Christmas Day at the in-laws house, Katie, Amelia and I decide to pop out to a restaurant on Boxing Day and, over some melty ice creams, I finally come clean. Weirdly, the whole thing just sort of naturally comes up in conversation, as Katie and I watch Amelia play in the soft play area and take stock of our mad year, talking openly about our hopes and dreams for the future.
Katie remarks on my love of writing and asks why I never got around to writing a book or a blog or something. I blurt out that I kind of, sort of, actually already have and the whole story comes out. Hilariously, she’s not that surprised, commenting that she had noticed the amount of holiday movie recommendations she’d been constantly getting from Netflix and Prime Video.
She gives me a right slagging for being seriously weird with all the secrecy and we have a good laugh about it all, promising to be more open and encouraging of each other’s ambitions in the future. Katie’s overwhelmingly supportive and loving like that. It’s a nice feeling, reminding me that though this year has been arduous, it’s also been filled with fantastic, unforgettable moments that have brought our family closer than ever before.
The quest might be over, but life goes on.
And with that, Amelia runs back over for a big hug. She already wants to tell us what she wants for next Christmas.
When we get home, rather than tidy the mass of wrapping paper and plastic packaging that litters the living room, we opt to ignore it, grab some Christmas candy and huddle up on the couch with a movie. Amelia innocently asks if we can watch The Christmas Chronicles?
She can bugger off.
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