It’s not engraved in stone. There are a host of possibilities.
When characters in a Hallmark Christmas movie need to talk over an important subject, they don’t always do so over a cup of hot chocolate. Sometimes, it’s a cup of hot coffee. And when they’re feeling extra festive, it’s a cup of hot chocolate with peppermint in it.
Or hot coffee with peppermint.
What I’m saying is that Hallmark Christmas movies are unfairly maligned. People who watch more than one, or sometimes less than one, often complain that the films are strictly formulaic.
But that is so not true. It could be hot chocolate or hot coffee. Never tea, though. No need to get radical about it.
I am not exaggerating when I say that in one Hallmark Christmas movie I saw recently, characters drink hot chocolate or hot coffee in at least six different scenes. That is more hot chocolate or hot coffee — or hot tea, for that matter — than I have had in the last 20 years. Maybe 30.
I’m not a fan of hot drinks, for reasons too silly to go into now.
But that’s not what I want to say. What I want to say is this: My name is Dan, and I watch Hallmark Christmas movies.
It started last year at about this time. I was feeling down for a lot of reasons that are also too silly to go into now. I needed a pick-me-up, something to lift my spirits. I needed cinematic Zoloft.
And so I turned on Netflix, which we’re paying for but almost never watch, and found some holiday trifle or another. I don’t remember what the first one was, my gateway holiday film. For that matter, I don’t remember what any of the subsequent ones were, either. They’re kind of all alike.
But I remember how it made me feel: Warm. Comforted. Validated. Happy. And yes, it made me feel a little stupider, too, because, honestly, have you watched these things? There’s not a lot there to challenge or stimulate the intellect.
So I watched another Netflix Christmas flick, and then another and another. By the time Christmas actually came around, I think I’d seen them all.
So this year, I’ve been bingeing on Hallmark, which is definitely a step or two below Netflix. Even so, there is a certain comfort to be found there.
If you have never seen a Hallmark Christmas movie, here is every Hallmark Christmas movie: A busy woman from New York (but shot in Vancouver, B.C.) is unwillingly sent to her hometown, where she meets her flannel-wearing ex-boyfriend and learns about his homey-but-intriguing job, such as a small-plane pilot or innkeeper or owner of a Christmas tree farm.
At first, the two trade mild and unfunny barbs, and just as they are rediscovering a romantic interest in each other, the woman’s slick-but-overly-corporate boyfriend from the city shows up to briefly muddy the waters. The woman wises up at the end and kisses the Flannel Guy just as it starts to snow. Also, a beloved relative of one of the main characters died a few years ago, and someone, somewhere, has an adorable child.
The heroine of these films is often a baker, or sometimes a chef. If not, she or her best friend bakes at least one batch of perfect-looking cookies or gingerbread.
The films don’t have her do this baking just because it’s right for the season. The real reason is to work on the viewer’s psyche: By watching the characters nibble on comfort foods, often while also drinking the ultimate comfort drink, hot chocolate, we viewers also experience a vicarious sense of comfort.
At their heart, that’s what Hallmark Christmas movies offer: comfort. Comfort foods make a comfort movie more comforting.
