Holiday Twist review – could this be the worst Christmas movie ever?

Holiday Twist review – could this be the worst Christmas movie ever?

It’s harder than you might think to find movies without any redeeming features, but occasionally they do come along. Terrible writing, horrible direction, an appalling script, dreadful performances: Holiday Twist really does have it all. Perhaps it would be fair to say the basic premise – a workaholic Scrooge figure is won over by the spirit of Christmas – is solid, but it’s hardly original.

As in A Christmas Carol, there are supernatural elements here, including an angel who intervenes to return a woman stricken with brain cancer to her family at Christmas. But more supernatural still is the surreal abrasiveness of the lead character, Connie (Kelly Stables), a recently divorced mum who also heads up a large corporate parcel-delivery company. She is a complete nightmare, but with none of the panto-villain charm of a proper Scrooge. She just constantly complains and is rude to people, while having flashbacks to some who-cares drama of Christmas past. It’s difficult to get invested in whether she will redeem herself – you’re more likely to be sat there praying that the twist of the title is she has some sort of surprise holiday embolism. Alas, she hangs around, delivering lines such as “I think my heart got misguided over time” while the much-needed new leaf is slowly and painfully turned.

Inevitably, when the time comes for Connie to show her transformation, that high-powered job (where, oddly, Sean Astin from the Lord of the Rings plays a board member, in a small role) will prove handy when it comes to righting the wrongs caused by a couple of thieves who have been hanging out in a subplot, stealing Christmas presents. It’s all meant to play as heartwarming, but discerning audiences will find that particular vital organ resolutely refusing to defrost.

Lest you, gentle reader, mistake any of this for an indication that we’re in so-bad-it’s-good territory. No, we’ve wandered through bad, traversed so-bad-it’s-good, and stumbled, punch drunk, out into the hinterland that lies beyond. Here be monsters.

Source: theguardian.com