In an effort to escape the heat, smoke, and continual images of destruction by bushfire plaguing the TV I went to the flicks to see Last Christmas currently being promoted as the “christmas movie of the decade”.
Admittedly I am not, and never have been, a fan of George Michael and his music. Not much chop with the RomCom genre either.
In my mind Emilia Clarke will forever be Daenerys from Game Of Thrones and I will never forget that Jon Snow, over whom I wept tears of both joy and blood for seven long seasons, lost the plot over this blond bimbo with boobs. You dipstick Snow.
So Daenerys, oops Kate, is having a tough time of it: couch surfing, one night stands, too much booze, narcissistic and lazy. She’s been unwell you see. I blame the tattoos on her knuckles.
She meets Tom, played by tall, dark and altogether too perfect Henry Golding who provides her with another view of life and helps her to find herself. Their repartee tries so hard to be slick like that in a John Green novel but fails due to Kate’s schoolgirl giggle.
You just know there is going to be a twist. Fifteen minutes before the end Kate does have an attitude readjustment though she’s stuck with the tats, poor love. For all but those last 900 seconds this was a pretty depressing rom-com.
A crazy Asian actress, Michelle Yeoh, gets her 15 minutes of fame and her love interest is even loopier.
And it doesn’t matter how many times the song “Last Christmas” plays in the background there is just no emotional connection whatsoever. Where’s Michael Bauble when you need him. ( * There’s a spoiler in the words of the song.)
Actress Emma Thompson and her husband are the architects of the story and she earned her dough playing Kate’s mother with a East European accent laid on as thick as jam and cream at a Devonshire Tea.
I’ve been reliably informed Clarke makes a “hot as” elf. I just don’t get it. Maybe it’s another Millennial / Boomer thing.
For a little Christmas lovin’ my advice is to avoid elves and stick with Die Hard. Or When You Were Sleeping.
Rating: Not one tissue required and sent sub-conscience memo to Jon Snow: matey, your sword work needs to improve.