First things first: Yes, I’m qualified to review a Hallmark movie. I started watching them in bulk during the first pandemic Christmas, as a kind of soft protest against the onslaught of premium content aimed at telling us what we already know: . By the time my wife and I finished , I was searching for something that was both mind-numbingly predictable and relentlessly—almost painfully—positive. (I initially took refuge in , but got so fed up with Robert’s lack of a personal life that I decided that, too, was unenjoyable.) No hidden surprises. No character who decides to spiral into some kind of self-destructive behavior. No set of bones being uncovered beneath the floorboards. Just a lot of happy people walking around underneath a blanket of fake snow in some made-up small town where the biggest problem is figuring out how to write a smash holiday song that will save the family jam making business (an actual plot point).
I started breaking down Hallmark favorites on a podcast with friends—some of you may have listened to and now —as a vehicle to talk about my strange hobby, as well as a vehicle to promote the holiday-based charity that I am a board member of called the Greater Newark Holiday Fund (you can learn more about this amazing charity here).
So, needless to say, when the NFL announced a collaboration with the Christmas movie making juggernaut, my antenna was up. I have long been critical of the league’s virus-like ability to creep into all aspects of our lives. Hallmark was a kind of island I felt was safely adrift from my professional life, and now here we have a kind of AI-generated love story built on the foundation of the Kansas City Chiefs–Patrick Mahomes–Travis Kelce–Taylor Swift cultural behemoth; the kind of commercial powder keg that can disrupt the rhythm of familiar sponsors and business partners I have come to love and expect (mostly $1,500 Balsam Hill Christmas trees and Semaglutide pharmaceuticals).
That meant that, for me, Hallmark and the NFL needed to nail this. You don’t come into my dojo, rearrange the furniture, kick dirt all over the place and expect a pat on the head.
So, this is my three-pronged review, along with a few notes I’ve gleaned along the way from having watched more than 75 of these films in my lifetime.
