Deck the Hallmarks

I don’t like Hallmark Christmas movies. There, I said it. But hear me out; it’s not for the reasons you think! So quit sharpening that pitchfork, Karen, because hunting me down and placing my head on a spike is NOT in the Spirit of Christmas! What would Santa say?

I don’t hate Hallmark movies because of their plot. Singular. We all know that Hallmark movies have the exact same plot. I’ve been told that this is part of their “charm”. Obviously “charm” is a codeword for “budget”. In lieu of hiring actual screenwriters; the origins of every single Hallmark movie since the Bush administration can be directly traced to Upper Sandusky, Ohio; where, in 2001, Mrs. Eudora Funderbunk was paid exactly $138.50 to outline the following plot for use in a TV movie: 

Spunky New York City Girl is stranded in the snowy, rural town of Waxapasatchie Falls, Belgiumnovia, located somewhere in the Vaguely-British-English-speaking regions of Northern Europe, where she learns the True Meaning of Christmas, becomes best friends with Slightly Unfortunate Looking But Sincerely Well-Meaning Female Character, and falls in love with Mr. Hardware Store Owner In Need of a Holiday Concert which will help save the local Hearing Impaired Ugandan orphans from deportation and/or a Christmas tree with no ornaments; thereby allowing him to accept the responsibilities associated with assuming the Crown Prince-Mayorship. Optional plot points may include:

Bonding and Revelations of Deep Feelings via the ritualistic consumption of hot cocoa; 

Bonding and Revelations of Deep Feelings via the loss of electricity/water/candy canes due to unforeseen natural causes, 

Bonding and Revelations of Deep Feelings via the shamanistic mutilation and dismemberment of the Narcissistic New York Boyfriend during the full moon. 

As you can see, Mrs. Eudora Funderbunk was not paid enough. Aside from a couple of minor alterations to the optional plot points, she successfully created a Masterplot capable of fueling enough diverse material for 150+ Hallmark movies. And counting! This is not something of which to make fun; this is worthy of a trophy from the Screenwriters Guild.

I also do not dislike Hallmark movies because of their bad acting, because for the most part; the actors are solidly mediocre. They are average C students; middle of the pack; undistinguished yet completely forgettable. It’s impossible to poke fun at this uninspired acting because this is something that many modern actors are unable to prevent. It would be like making fun of a special-needs child. You just don’t DO that; they simply need love from us. 

Most of the Hallmark actors suffer from the same impairment: not being born British. Their fellow thespians across the pond merely shake their heads and marvel at their own good fortune of being born in the land of Shakespeare and John Donne, whilst remarking; “Forsooth; it seemeth that the mammering, full-gorged foot-licker American stage-dwellers hath been accursed; the beggarly, crook-pated strumpets! Alas and alack!”

No, in my opinion, the downfall of Hallmark movies is their MUSIC. Oh sure; I don’t expect a TV movie producer to be able to hire the likes of John Williams, Alexander Desplat, or Bernard Herrmann (the latter most particularly because he is dead). But have you ever actually LISTENED to what’s going on in the background during 94% of a Hallmark movie? It is a Costco-synth-pad nightmare of non-resolving chords; a soulless soundwash of randomness with no motives, no development, no variety. In short; whoever wrote it had only slightly more creativity than a baked potato. 

I know exactly what it reminds me of. When I lived in New York City; my sister and I had an apartment diagonally across Broadway from a 24-hour McDonalds. Non-city dwellers would say; “How charming! You can have stale French fries at all times of day and night!”. But hardened New Yorkers know that in reality, it just means that the crazy homeless dudes begging for money out front take shifts to cover the entire 24 hour period; just like the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace. Sometimes they even wear funny hats. 

There was one not-always-lucid homeless guy who set up shop for his shift with a keyboard. He propped open the carrying case to accept donations; plugged into the free electricity at the kiosk, and proceeded to share his Art with the neighborhood. It could’ve been a successful busking venture, except that the man had no actual talent, which was apparent to anyone with ears and a brain (Mayor De Blasio is thereby excluded). 

He merely pushed the “strings” button and proceeded to play random keys; allowing each particular chord to vibrate in the air for upwards of 15 or 20 seconds at a time before moving to the next random chord. He would do this for hours on end. Tension chord, following tension chord, following tension chord with no resolutions EVER. Just like a meeting of Congress. Whenever I entered or left the apartment during his shift; it felt like I was on the set of a modern epic alien movie filming the longest death scene ever written. 

However, after having slower-than normal Christmas music gigging season this year (i.e. deader than a salted slug) due to the pandemic; I’ve had the time to sit down and watch approximately 47 hours of Hallmark movies. And I realized that it was not an alien movie, but in fact, a Hallmark Christmas movie that was filming across the street all that time! In fact; I think I saw that movie last week… it’s the one where the Spunky New York City Girl falls in love with the Homeless Keyboard Playing Dude; who actually turns out to be a Handsome Prince with Perfect Pitch in Disguise and together they find the True Meaning of Christmas. It’s a Steinway Model D.