Look, there is no one on this Earth who queues up a Netflix Christmas rom-com and expects good or even passable cinema from it, and because of this, they’re capable of getting away with shoddy technicalities in a way that no other genre really can, and perhaps in a way that’s even calculated.
The question, then: is it possible for the Netflix Christmas rom-com mission statement (i.e. a pathologically unchallenging movie) to be fulfilled while also making a movie that’s genuinely good? Well, Hot Frosty hardly answers that question with a resounding “yes,” but that was never going to stop it from collecting viewership hours at warp-speed like all the Netflix Christmas rom-coms before it.
Per FlixPatrol, Hot Frosty has debuted as the number one movie on the Netflix film charts in the United States at the time of writing, rocketing over the likes of the Sandra Bullock-Channing Tatum blockbuster The Lost City in third place, and fellow debutant Return of the King: The Fall and Rise of Elvis Presley in 10th place.
The film stars Lacey Chabert (Young Justice) as Kathy, a widowed café owner who hasn’t been particularly happy ever since her husband passed away from cancer. One night, she unwittingly puts a magical scarf on a snow sculpture of a gorgeous man with unthinkable muscle definition (Dustin Milligan), and the snow sculpture transforms into the human version of that same man. Cue the inconsequential shenanigans.
What do you want me to say? No, the film does not have clever humor, it’s not interesting to look at, and while it’s very open and sincere in asking the audience to lower their viewing standards as it prepares to dish out the always-sweet Christmas Platitudes Greatest Hits, there’s something undeniably unnerving about setting a low bar for yourself rather than setting a bar that’s completely your own; corny sweetness needn’t be hopelessly generic.
And yet, Hot Frosty is not completely toothless. The energy shifts quite significantly whenever Brooklyn Nine-Nine alums Craig Robinson and Joe Lo Truglio roll up as the sheriff and deputy sheriff of the town, and bring what can reasonably be interpreted as a self-aware, improvisational flair to these conveyor belt proceedings; it’s genuinely delightful.
And really, is this not the way forward for what would otherwise be depressingly low-effort streaming fare that, by design, still needs to keep a complete lack of edge and arguably a lack of pathos? Why not let these movies be cases where comedic actors are given a rough skeleton of a script and a clearly-communicated vibe, and then band together to turn it into a cinematic improv show? That way, you keep the mindlessly silly-and-sweet appeal to your usual audience while offering a comedic dynamic that could interest those who value chewier films; wanting to be silly and sweet only takes you so far when so many people can sus out the lack of inspiration.
So yes, the Netflix Christmas rom-com about a woman who falls in love with a snowman who magically comes to life is a profoundly dumb movie, and that’s by design. But, if you squint, it also suggests that there’s a way to make good movies in this vein, and that counts for something.
Published: Nov 14, 2024 05:17 pm