And so we move on to my last Netflix movie. 2019's Last Christmas is a film that looks gorgeous and has impeccable turns from its agreeable leads but suffers from seriously poor writing. However, this winter romance tale has a powerful secret weapon, as it’s turbocharged by a soundtrack composed almost entirely of George Michael songs. As I roll my eyes at each predictably tedious plot development, I’m nevertheless helpless to stop my toe tapping and must concede that, yes, George had some absolutely stonking tunes, including the festive mega-hit of the film’s title, which the film audaciously bases its narrative around.
Sadly, this one wastes the irresistibly jaunty Emilia Clarke in the overly familiar role of Kate, the smiley, loveable but down-on-her-luck klutz whose life is a car wreck. Oh, why does she keep making mistakes, like drinking too much and shagging the wrong guys? You feel like you know her already, right?
Kate works in one of those all-year round Christmas shops as an 'elf', bossed by Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon's Michelle Yeoh. I have no clue how they managed to convince the martial arts legend to be in this whimsical, kung fu-free yuletide romance but it's always good to see her in things.
Our heroine has a strained relationship with her Croatian mum (Emma Thompson, doing an accent) and it's drip-fed to us that this has something to do with Kate's heart (like, the actual bodily organ), an illness and something tragic that happened... last Christmas. Of course!
Into her disordered life walks handsome, sensitive, seemingly-perfect guy Tom (Henry Golding), a bicycle courier with a child-like, positive take on life and who, for some reason, can afford a really fancy London gaff.
This leads to the usual stuff with Kate, via a series of cutesy festive encounters, learning to be a better person and to sort her bloody life out. This is achieved through gorgeous winter strolls through the streets of London, volunteering at a homeless shelter and doing some selfless matchmaking for Yeoh's character, who I forgot to tell you is actually named Santa. No shit.
The script also clumsily shoehorns some topical-at-the-time stuff about Brexit, with some scenes of xenophobia and of fellow immigrants (Tom's family are oriental) bonding and being strong together that feel at odds with the rest of the movie. It's jarring and weird but at least the songs are ace.
Unsurprisingly, tunes like 'Freedom' and 'Faith' work excellently for soundtracking uplifting montages. 'Praying For Time' works well for a sweet, romantic ice-skating moment, with the ice rink lit beautifully with lovely Christmas lights, though the film does go a bit overboard with the lights elsewhere. It's Christmas, we get it.
Later on, the plot takes a not-particularly-surprising supernatural turn that is not handled particularly well. I think there are some attempts at foreshadowing with a certain character regularly staring up at the sky, but it doesn't really work for me.
Regardless, Clarke and Golding are both ruddy marvellous here and deserve something better than the film they're trapped in, which insists on making them both act awfully bloody British, what what. Still, it's mostly a diverting enough little tale that teaches us that, in order to have a happy life, you gotta have faith-a-faith-a-faith-ah!
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