A new Christmas tradition in the Schwem household unexpectedly surfaced Thanksgiving night when my wife was channel hopping and stumbled upon the Hallmark Channel.
Yes, we knew the greeting card company owned a television network and we help pay for its existence via our monthly cable bill. However, we had no idea Hallmark executives thought it would be a fine idea to bombard their viewing audience with Christmas movies 24/7, not one of which is titled Elf.
No, these are a slew of original holiday flicks that, as far as I can tell, run in “auto-play” mode while Hallmark Channel programmers take off the entire month of December. Commercials included, all are precisely two hours in length; when one movie ends, the next one immediately begins, leaving me, the viewer, little time to critique what I just witnessed.
If I was disappointed by the climactic scene of A Princess for Christmas, no worries. Christmas List has already begun. And if that doesn’t hold my interest, I need only wait two hours before Heavenly Christmas begins. I could DVR the overnight lineup, including Once Upon a Holiday, Help for the Holidays and Northpole: Open for Christmas but when would I watch them? Even if I arise at 7 the next morning, I’m certainly not prepared for I’m Not Ready for Christmas.
Judging by the Hallmark Channel’s ubiquitous presence on our flat-screen, my wife seems determined to watch every movie. It has become a ritual for her to announce we are eating dinner in the family room because (insert name of movie with “Christmas,” “Wonder” “Holiday” or all three in the title) is about to start.
Because I am familiar with precisely zero of these films, I take more of a passing interest, sitting in my chair after dinner and using the Hallmark Channel as background noise while I cleanse my email inbox of approximately 48,000 Christmas-related online deal messages. This differs radically from my demeanor when I watch traditional holiday movies, as I often shush other family members should they dare to talk over scenes that I know by heart but never tire of.
“Quiet. This is the part where Will Ferrell calls that Game of Thrones guy an ‘angry elf.’”
During Hallmark’s Christmas movie marathon, I have glanced at the TV long enough to ascertain that all the movies contain the following:
—A famous lead actor or actress that hasn’t been heard from for some time. Tom Skerritt, Kristin Davis, Eric McCormack and even Shirley MacLaine have all brought yuletide cheer to my family room at some point this month.
—A secondary actor or actress who looks familiar because he or she starred in “that TV show with that family that was sort of dysfunctional but kind of funny too? Know which one I mean?”
—A precocious child actor, usually female, who is constantly reminding adults about the true meaning of Christmas and seems to care not a whit that her holiday may be void of gifts or a father.
—Outdoor scenes in an imaginary quaint town whose elected officials apparently blew the entire municipal budget on holiday decorations.
Then my focus begins to wander and my eyes, sorry Hallmark Channel, become heavy. I often doze off, waking up just as fake snow is falling on the entire cast, signaling the movie is about to end. My wife, meanwhile, is chiding me.
“You missed it. It was really good.”
“Let me guess. The estranged couple got back together, another character was saved from financial ruin, everybody hugged the kid, and it’s going to be the best Christmas ever. Can we change the channel please?”
“Why? ‘Crown for Christmas’ is starting.”
“Does it have an elf in it who goes to New York looking for his dad?”
“No but it stars Danica McKellar. She was in ‘The Wonder Years.’ Remember?”
Zzzzzzzz
