Yesterday, I came to a clear understanding that Hallmark doesn't mess around, very deliberately pandering to viewers in search of an easy, schmaltzy watch, giving the customers exactly what they want. Apparently Hallmark fans also really want loose Jane Austen ‘reimaginings’ with a festive flavour, which is what’s next with Pride, Prejudice and Mistletoe, another Lacey Chabert vehicle from 2018. I watch this on a dreary January day when the government has announced yet another lockdown, so I’m really banking on some fluffy, positive nonsense to help lift the descending fog of depression. Unfortunately, this adaptation of Melissa de la Cruz’s popular novel is pretty darn dull.
Don’t get me wrong. Chabert is radiant here as Darcy, the New York businesswoman who returns to her cute little hometown for Christmas, where she unexpectedly reconnects with chef and former high school rival Luke Bennett (Brendan Penny). The problem is that not much happens. Also, despite the title, this doesn’t feel like it has much in common with Austen’s novel at all.
Rather than spinning a yarn about sisters looking for rich husbands, Don McBrearty’s film is a pretty straight tale about Darcy and Mr Bennett planning a Christmas charity event together and going all doe-eyed at each other.
Penny is pretty great too, his Luke Bennett coming off as the perfect mix of total bro and kindly sweetheart, whie his chemistry with Chabert crackles nicely. It’s just that the arranging of a charity do, as it turns out, is not all that cinematic or gripping. Oh no - Nobody’s RSVP’d!
It’s hard to give too much of a toss, especially as all involved are clearly already really well-off and successful with their big houses and snazzy restaurants. I can’t really relate to these people whose biggest worry is not being able to put on an extravagant show for their rich pals. It’s all the more risible that all their woes are swiftly sorted by the sending of a few emails. Yawn.
This feels like it would benefit from the inclusion of cute kids and/or some preposterous Christmas supernatural elements. Or even some Austen-esque slow-burn sexual tension and witty banter. It’s all just a bit of a beige snooze-fest.
Comentários