Movie Review: Last Christmas

I would be hard pressed to call Last Christmas a “love story.” While marketed and presented as such, I beg to differ. Last Christmas is the story of Kate—a bumbling, near-homeless, can’t-get-her-sh*t-together, hot mess of a young woman who wants desperately to be a singer but can only find work as a full-time elf in a Christmas shop—and she’s not even good at doing that. But is she at least likable? Meh.

Allow me to make a distinction, though: Kate the elf—the character, that is—is unpleasant throughout the duration of the film. In fact, given her attitude, she’s a shoe-in for getting coal in her stocking. Emilia Clarke, however, is extraordinarily likable. In a different world, Clarke might be typecast indefinitely and stuck in a world of medieval dramas, riding dragons, and spewing badasserry until the end of time. But I’m happy to say that’s not the case at all here. Even as she plays a mightily aggravating, intelligent woman who, at first, refuses to improve her own life, Clarke still manages to shine in her own right as an increasingly well-rounded actress.

Back to Kate, however…we’re inclined not to like her. She’s selfish; she’s rude; she’s blissfully unaware of her surroundings, and downright ignores a family that seems to only want the best for her. But we’re thrown a bone when we discover that she’s also been life-threateningly ill—and that’s primarily the isolating wedge that has been jammed into her relationships among her family and friends. The score is now 1-1. One point for exasperation and one for pity.

Enter Tom Webster—a bicycle-riding delivery man with a heart of gold and what seems to be a sudden, all-consuming crush on Kate. Tom, played by the ever-dazzling Henry Golding, has the ability to wear Kate down a bit. We peel a couple layers back and see who she is and how she got to be there. And suddenly? We might even like her.

So, girl meets boy. After some initial adversities, the love interest is mutual. Yadda yadda. It’s a love story. Case closed. Or is it? Nope. Not in the traditional sense at least. In Last Christmas, we’re privy to a journey of love from selfishness to selflessness—inclusive of accepting and embracing self-love as well as both receiving and giving the love of friends and family—and eventually, even new friends (cue the homeless shelter) and an evolved meaning of life.

The film Last Christmas is cute. I’ll absolutely give it that. The setting is sweet—essentially a powdered-sugar snow globe comprised of one London city block. Clarke excels at playing a quirky, bubbly if not cantankerous elf with a leopard-print coat and a bad attitude (albeit one of many overdone tropes we stumble upon). The ever-familiar, feel-good George Michael and Wham! soundtrack is extraordinarily helpful in moving things along, too. How can you not have fun while bopping along to “Wake Me Up Before You Go Go?”

But Last Christmas is missing something overall. It doesn’t have that magic sizzle all the really great holiday movies have. It doesn’t even feel like a Paul Feig movie, unfortunately. If you’re expecting the nonstop raucous humor in Bridesmaids (2011) or the wicked on-screen intelligence of A Simple Favor (2018), you’ll need to temper your expectations.

What it does feel like is this: Someone has given us a freshly baked gingerbread house, full of promise and holiday spirit. It’s beautifully crafted and it smells divine. Only the baker didn’t decorate it with frosting or candies. They did, however, throw in a few stale icing containers and a handful of jelly beans.

But Last Christmas is a holiday film above all, and it feels good to watch it, and with Emma Thompson taking partial credit for writing, producing, and acting in it—the film can’t possibly be bad. So, take a few swigs of eggnog and go see Last Christmas. After all, what’s a holiday movie good for without a few overdone, cringe-worthy moments?