The Hallmark of Predictability

Photo by Jadon Johnson on Unsplash.

Occasionally, during the holiday season, I’ll doze off on the couch while my wife, Amy, watches a Hallmark Christmas movie. I know this happened last year because I remember the film’s plot.

An ambitious young woman unwillingly left work behind to travel from the big city to her hometown. The town’s exact location escapes me, but my God was it quaint! The town had a bakery, a coffee shop, an inn run by an old man with a white beard.

And the locals went all in on celebrating Christmas!

There was a magical light display in the town square, surrounding the largest, most perfectly decorated tree you’ve ever seen. It was something else.

On the downside, all the people in this town were, well … white. Except for one person of color who had no backstory and claimed maybe 45 seconds of total screen time. (That part was regrettable, to say the least. Amy tells me this is changing, and Hallmark Channel is now more enthusiastically embracing diversity—of people, cultures, and even winter holidays. The formulaic plots remain the same.)

There was this one guy (he was white, of course). He wore flannel shirts and drove a pickup truck and built furniture or wooden toys. Or maybe he worked in his old man’s business, which built furniture or wooden toys. I don’t recall exactly. Then again, I might be thinking of Bill Pullman’s character in While You Were Sleeping.

The hometown guy and the woman were childhood friends. He stayed in town. She went off to pursue her dreams in the big city and never came back.

That was until Grandma fell ill. Or the family bakery was on the cusp of foreclosure—at Christmas! (Those cold-hearted bastards at the bank!) Or the town orphan ran away and was lost in a blizzard. Or the family dog got trapped in a well just before giving birth to puppies. It was all very troubling.

Anyway, while all of this was going on, the woman and Flannel Guy kindled a new romance over mugs of the best hot cocoa anyone has ever tasted. Things progressed from there. (Insert your own joke here about him showing her “the North Pole.” Believe me, I did.)

Then the call came from the woman’s loyal friend and work colleague in the big city. That huge promotion was finally coming her way. But there was a catch. She had to be back in the big city for a make-or-break meeting on Christmas Eve. (Wait, am I thinking of a scene from Elf?)

Somehow, despite all the anguish and tears as the woman tried to resolve this major crisis in her life …

I fell asleep.

The next morning, Amy assured me everything worked out. Which I assumed meant Grandma lived. The bakery was saved. The orphan was found. All the dogs were retrieved from the well and adopted by the innkeeper who may or may not have been Santa.

And, most importantly, the woman returned to the big city, kept climbing the corporate ladder, and married a hedge fund manager. They lived happily ever after. And she never again returned to her crummy hometown.

Or something like that.

Counting down to Christmas

As I write this, it’s mid-October. But it’s already time for the beginning of the annual onslaught of Hallmark Christmas movies known as Countdown to Christmas. This makes Amy happy.

Well, happy-ish.

Amy likes Hallmark Christmas movies. But she loves fall. She hates rushing through her favorite season to get to the holidays. She’s more than happy to wait until Christmas is nigh to settle in on the couch and soak up Hallmark Channel’s mindless, pine-scented fare.

There’s one other reason she approaches Hallmark Christmas movie season with some trepidation.

Me.

Watching a Hallmark Christmas movie with me can be a trying experience. Or so I’ve been told. I find this hard to believe. But I’ve been informed that it’s because at the sight of that chick from Father of the Bride, the dude from the TV show Ed, or grown-up Winnie from The Wonder Years, I transform into an amalgam of two of my favorite Americans.

I’m referring, of course, to Statler and Waldorf from The Muppet Show.
 
True, I make wisecracks. I mock the predictability and corniness. I offer inappropriate comments (e.g., “the North Pole”). With uncanny accuracy, I predict the next line of dialogue.

As husbands go, I’m an unqualified joy (don’t confirm this with Amy, please). But watching a Hallmark Christmas movie with me must occasionally make Amy re-evaluate her life choices.

Maybe, just maybe, she would have been happier married to a hedge fund manager in the big city. He’d probably work all the time, but at least he wouldn’t be around to yell, “Get that!” during the climactic moment when the couple kisses in the town square just as the Christmas snow begins falling.

I’m a lot of things. But perfect isn’t one of them.

Or so I’m told.

The first Hallmark Christmas movie wasn’t a movie

When I was a kid, “Hallmark Hall of Fame” movies were special events. One usually turned up on network television at Christmastime. Another around Easter. They were well-made dramas and they always seemed to be just a tad better than a typical made-for-television movie.

I never quite made the connection between Hallmark greeting cards and sappy television movies, but those movies showed up in our living room a few times a year just the same.

Technically, the first Hallmark Christmas movie wasn’t a movie. On Christmas Eve 1951, Hallmark sponsored NBC’s live production of Amahl and the Night Visitors, the first opera written for television.

That was long before the rise of cable television and, eventually, the debut of Hallmark Channel in 2001, when Hallmark took over a religious cable channel previously known as Odyssey.

It must be tough to fill 24 hours of daily programming. Within a decade Hallmark Channel had decided to meet the challenge by scheduling a stream of feel-good Christmas movies that run non-stop in November and December and during its “Christmas in July” schedule.

This strategy has, of course, proved wildly successful. Hallmark generates about a third of its total advertising revenue during Countdown to Christmas. Hallmark Channel is especially popular with women in the coveted 25-54 age bracket.

During this year’s Countdown to Christmas Hallmark will debut 47 new movies. Almost all will be Christmas movies, though there might be a Kwanza or Hanukkah offering in the mix. It’s doubtful that any of them will break new ground.

With the new batch of 47 Hallmark movies, as with the ones that came before them, there won’t be much mystery about what’s going to happen. The couple will get together. All the important loose ends will tie up. And the viewer will be left with the same satisfied feeling they get after taking the last bite of a warm homemade Christmas cookie.

Amy knows this. She also knows that the time she can devote to Hallmark Christmas movies is finite. So, she decides which ones to watch based on the subtle differences.

Does she like or dislike the lead actors? Does the couple exude on-screen chemistry? Is the movie well-written or does it appear that the script was slapped together? Is the plot too stupid to be believable? Have any of the actors publicly expressed racist, sexist, or homophobic views? (Don’t get Amy started on Full House alum and former Hallmark Christmas movie regular Candace Cameron Bure.)

If the answer to any of these questions is in the negative, she will either fast-forward to the happy ending or pass on the whole thing.

Yes, Hallmark movies are formulaic. But, as she has repeatedly told me, there is comfort in the familiar.

Embracing the predictable

This holiday season, I’m making a major commitment. I’m going to do my best to hold my tongue and let Amy enjoy her Hallmark movies, sans commentary.

In addition to this being an early Christmas gift for Amy, it feels right. I’ve had my fun. Maybe it’s time I have a little less of it. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll become a better, more supportive husband in the process (if such a thing is even possible, which I doubt).

But there’s something else, too. I’ve come to appreciate the Hallmark Christmas movie formula for what it is. After all, every year I look forward to putting up the same Christmas tree, listening to the same holiday music, and downing the same gluttonous meal with family and friends.

What’s wrong with also annually watching predictable holiday movies, with actors you know playing slightly different characters and wearing (I assume) different red and green sweaters?

I’ve concluded that the answer is, absolutely nothing.

Hey, if it’s your sort of thing, get that!