Students on De Montfort University’s Music, Film and Entertainment Journalism module pick the films, plays, music, TV shows or books they detest. Furious, pitchfork-wielding mob? Meet Gemma West.
Jack Black is a comical guy. When you think of Jack Black, you picture body comedy, ridiculous caricatures and a voice that always sounds like it’s on the edge of a punchline. In every movie he’s in, Jack Black always plays the role of Jack Black. When he is void of those characteristics, though, what does that make him?
The truth is, it makes him a terrible actor. As he is introduced as Kate Winslet’s love interest in The Holiday, the movie takes a turn for the worse. It becomes uncomfortable. The suspense is building up as you patiently wait for him to finally break character. Please, Jack Black, please crack a joke, you implore. When it doesn’t happen, it becomes a debate whether or not the casting directors were doing alright when they chose him to seriously romance Kate Winslet.
If that was the only unnerving aspect of the movie, I wouldn’t be so keen to write a scathing review. But unfortunately, it doesn’t end there. People say The Holiday is a Christmas classic and the same people also seem to hold it in quite a high regard. But I don’t even think it should attain the title of Christmas movie.
In Elf, a human dressed up as an elf prances around New York City and gets employed as an elf in a department store’s Santa’s Grotto. In How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Christmas is literally in the title and the Grinch dresses up as ol’ Saint Nick. This is what is expected for a Christmas flick. Snowfall, pine trees and a brief record drop of Last Christmas make up the bare minimum effort we see in The Holiday. It’s not enough.
You also expect a Christmas movie to be comforting and heartwarming, not two hours of torture that consist of four obnoxious people on the pull.
Cameron Diaz’s character, who’s name I can’t recall, dumps her boyfriend who was probably (definitely) cheating on her and flees to England.
Jude Law’s character drunkenly stumbles back to his sister’s cottage, which the movie makes out to be 50 miles from the nearest shop but also close enough to London to commute to in about five minutes, and happens to find Cameron Diaz.
Quite a convenient and accessible match.
Maybe it’s wrong to form stereotypes and assumptions. Christmas doesn’t look the same for everyone and expecting what I’ve previously seen in every single other Christmas movie might be unfair.
But if the directors of The Holiday can regurgitate some of the worst stereotypes about England, then I guess I get a free pass.
