‘Hail, Caesar!’ — A Tale of the Christ?

Alissa Wilkinson | "Hail, Caesar!" is both a romp through Hollywood's Golden Age and an unlikely Passion Play. (image George Clooney in 'Hail, Caesar!' – Universal Pictures)
 
Rating: PG-13
Category: Drama film/Musical ‧ 1h 46m
Release date: February 5, 2016 (USA)
Directors: Ethan Coen, Joel Coen
Budget: 22 million USD
Narrated by: Michael Gambon
Screenplay: Ethan Coen, Joel Coen
Look, I know there’s no bigger cliché than a Christian critic sitting around identifying “Christ figures” at the movies. But in their latest, Joel and Ethan Coen show their hand so obviously—the subtitle for the Ben Hur-like film-within-a-film, also called Hail, Caesar!, is “A Tale of the Christ”—that I’m either being trolled or baited. I’ll bite.

Among many (many, many) things, Hail, Caesar! is a passion play: a canny bit of work on the Coens’ part, given this year’s proliferation of biblical epics both remade and reimagined. In just the next few months, that includes Risen, The Young Messiah, Last Days in the Desert, the Tyler Perry-hosted The Passion Live, and the ABC show Of Kings and Prophets—and, yes, a Ben Hur remake.

Watch Hail, Caesar trailer
 
The Coens (being Coens) come at it as a farce, with about 18 different things rumbling beneath the surface. On its basic level, Hail, Caesar! is an affectionate celebration, mild critique, and winking pastiche of Hollywood’s Golden Age, when studios owned actors’ contracts and shot everything from swashbuckling song-and-dance numbers to sword-and-sandal epics on the back lot. Josh Brolin plays Eddie Mannix, the executive in charge of production at Capitol Pictures (that name becomes important later). He goes to confession a lot (“too much,” his priest says wearily) for infractions like smoking a few cigarettes, answers to the never-seen studio head Mr. Schenck (pronounced "skank"), and is being wooed by Lockheed Martin in a job that might involve H-bombs but would still be easier than wrangling the cast of characters he’s stuck with.

Those characters feel like what would happen if Turner Classic Movies accidentally left the door unlocked at night. Scarlett Johansson is a mermaid in a synchronized swimming fantasy picture; Ralph Fiennes helms a high-society Broadway adaptation in which America’s favorite lassoing cowboy (Alden Ehrenreich) is being forced to star so the studio can “change his image”; Channing Tatum is a deceptively mild-mannered singing and tap-dancing sailor; there’s a Carmen Miranda-like sweetheart (Veronica Osorio)—and George Clooney is a centurion among slaves in the sword-and-sandal Hail, Caesar!

That last production is in full swing, and Mannix is watching the dailies (“DIVINE PRESENCE TO BE SHOT,” the subtitles announce at opportune moments—the film is still in production) when he discovers its star has been kidnapped.

In one subplot, in a nod to the Communist writers who were blacklisted, a disciple-like cadre of Communist acolytes following their leader—suggestively named Dr. Marcuse—kidnap Clooney’s genial star and educate him in the ways of “direct action” and “accelerating the dialectic” while holding him for ransom (a startlingly common plot point in the Coens’ films, by the way). Everything can be explained by economics, they say, quoting Marx, and so certainly the concept of rendering to Caesar—either through Capitol Pictures, Das Kapital, or capitalism—is part of this title.

But mostly it’s about the meaning of life by way of religion, with which the Coens have always fiddled, sometimes dancing around the edges and sometimes diving straight into the middle. Hollywood’s Golden Age gives them the perfect excuse for a hysterical scene straight out of a joke: two priests (one Catholic, one Orthodox), a Protestant minister, and a rabbi sit in a boardroom with Mannix, debating whether the depiction of Christ in an upcoming picture “cuts the mustard” or is offensive. As the rabbi points out, for Jews it’s forbidden to portray God, but luckily for them Jesus isn’t part of the godhead. One of the ministers explains that technically Jesus is the Son of God. (The conventional disclaimers at the end of the credits explain that “This motion picture contains no visual depiction of the godhead.”)

Such a scene would in fact have happened regularly at the time, when clergy were called in to consult on both religious movies and others, as part of a partnership between Hollywood and the nation’s ministers to promote the moral health of the nation. It’s worth nothing that in today’s religious movie boom, the same thing often happens—this time to gauge (as in the film) the potential reaction from religious leaders and congregations.

But as I said earlier, this is a passion play, one with Eddie Mannix at its center, our Man of Sorrows, the savior of the (movie) world. Lest we miss that, the film opens on a long establishing shot of a crucifix before moving to Mannix in the confessional booth, where he’s confessing the most banal of crimes before moving on to his work day.

Note: from here on, there are some mild spoilers, though it's hard to spoil a narrative so established.

Unlike every movie executive we’ve ever seen in a film, Mannix is a thoroughly decent guy who speaks nicely to his wife and tries to do his best. But he has reached a crossroads—a point of temptation, if you will. The tempter is a friendly Lockheed Martin executive, who wants him to abandon his true work in the world and come live the easy path.

All day long, Mannix suffers for his stars. He takes their verbal drubbings and deals with their indiscretions and sins and tries to keep them out of trouble, tasked with the thoroughly thankless job of keeping their images squeaky clean. He is dogged by twin competing gossip columnists (both played by Tilda Swinton).

He has been tempted away from this lonely path once and is tempted twice more (in a Chinese restaurant lit like an opium den when he first walks in) by the Lockheed executive, our Satan stand-in, folding the encounter in the desert into the film. He labors under the weight of his own conscience and the weight of the temptation before him, and encounters hazard after hazard on the road to his decision.

Near its end, we catch him in Gethsemane echoes deep in prayer, rosary in hand, as he contemplates what to do—and in a neat trick made possible by the existence of an actual set for a crucifixion scene being shot on the studio lot, he even approaches three crosses on Calvary.

The Coens are too meticulous to not have intended all that. What’s so fun about Hail, Caesar! is that it lets all the characters (played by your actual favorite movie stars) and sets and images from films made both during and about its time, from comedies to noirs to political dramas, come together in a grand mash-up that is then structured like one of the most enduringly popular genres: the biblical epic, the “Greatest Story Ever Told,” the archetypal tale of suffering and redemption.

But they don’t spring for an easy analogy. These are the Coens: nothing serious ever happens without a wink or a joke. Mannix isn’t the actual man of sorrows; he’s just in the movie business, which is always at its end a bit (or more than a bit) absurd. A speech given by the centurion at the foot of the cross seems like the stand-in for his epiphany—but later he gives a different confession, one that rings more true, about feeling that what he’s doing in the movie business is right and important.

So in a bit of in a bit of cyclical storytelling that recalls the repetitive structure of their last film about a soul tortured by his work, Inside Llewyn Davis, Mannix returns to the confession booth and talks about his cigarette habit. In classic Coen fashion, meaning in life comes down to the love that individuals share with one another, not the absurdity inherent in fate or big ideological systems. Mannix loves his wife too much to not feel bad about quitting his habit; other characters love their ridiculous dogs more than money, or make unlikely matches in unlikely offices. Every day is a fresh set of trials and temptations for the man of sorrows, but he never really faces crucifixion—just another day on set.

Caveat Spectator

Hail, Caesar! is rated PG-13 for suggestive situations and smoking. Most of what’s uncouth about it is done by implication rather than seen on screen. The sailors’ song-and-dance scene is innocently (or not) homoerotic, and the mermaid one seems rather obviously phallic, but that will sail right past plenty of viewers. A character talks about another one engaging in “sodomy” (that is the word used) to get a job; another character is pregnant without being married, which provides a plot point for the film. It’s possible that some religious viewers might be offended by the film-within-a-film giving occasion for a few situational jokes in a religious context, but it certainly isn’t done irreverently. And neither Communism nor capitalism is outright condemned by the film itself, which I suppose some people may find offensive.

Alissa Wilkinson is Christianity Today’s chief film critic and an assistant professor of English and humanities at The King’s College in New York City. She is co-author, with Robert Joustra, of How to Survive the Apocalypse: Zombies, Cylons, Faith, and Politics at the End of the World(Eerdmans, April 2016). She tweets @alissamarie.

 

Child of God

Star Star | Scout Tafoya | Thriller/Drama | 1h 44m
In 1960s Tennessee, a violent loner (Scott Haze) loses his last vestige of humanity as he enters a downward spiral of madness, crime and degradation.

Initial release: April 28, 2014 (United Kingdom)

Director: James Franco

Story by: Cormac McCarthy

Adapted from: Child of God

Initial DVD release: October 28, 2014 (USA)
Cast:
James Franco (Jerry)

Jerry

Scott Haze (Lester Ballard)

Lester Ballard

Jim Parrack (Deputy Cotton)

Deputy Cotton

Tim Blake Nelson (Sheriff Fate)

 Sheriff Fate

Vince Jolivette (Ernest)

Ernest

You've got to admire James Franco's chutzpah. After directing a few vacant things that barely count as movies, he just started going around buying the rights to classics like he was William Wyler or John Huston. After "As I Lay Dying," last year’s fascinating, if perhaps undercooked Faulkner adaptation, Franco has returned with a stab at Cormac McCarthy’s early novel "Child of God." People who were worried when Franco snapped up the option to "Blood Meridian," McCarthy’s ‘unfilmable’ masterpiece, won’t have their fears allayed any by a good faith but blank retelling of McCarthy’s first major statement. Franco clearly wants to be a provocative artist with the chops to bring major literature to life, but he has no relationship with the camera. Every cut has the same effect as the curtain raising on the next act of a play: here’s some more action, for better or worse. It’s like "Dogville" with the sets filled in; watchably eccentric but rudderless.

 

 

 

‘Agnus Dei’ A Sundance Dispatch

Alissa Wilkinson | Agnus Dei tries to approach (but not fix) the repercussions of unspeakable cruelty with the quiet balm of beauty. A must-see film that quietly suggests a surprising answer to the problem of evil. (image by Anna Wloch)

One of the oldest refrains in the world is the theodicy question: how could a good God let bad things happen?

That question animates Agnus Dei, which premieres at the Sundance Film Festival on Tuesday. But the film's answer is expansive, complex, and subtly subversive. Directed by Anne Fontaine (Coco Before Chanel, Gemma Bovary) and led by an all-female cast, the movie tries to approach (but not fix) the repercussions of unspeakable cruelty with the quiet balm of beauty.

Agnus Dei is set in 1945, amid the ruins of World War II. Mathilde (Lou de Laâge) is a young French doctor working with the Red Cross in Poland. Through an unusual set of circumstances, she comes into contact with a convent of Polish nuns who, she discovers, are in advanced stages of pregnancy. Months earlier, a group of Russian soldiers had broken into the convent and raped the women repeatedly, staying for several days. The horror haunts them still, even while they have tried to regain their faith and practice their vocation. Full of shame, they’re convinced of the need to conceal their condition, lest they be shut down by their superiors. And yet the reminders linger in their own bodies and, nine months later, are about to arrive.

Mathilde isn't Catholic; over vodka one night, she tells her fellow doctor and sometime lover Samuel (who himself is Jewish) that her parents were staunch Communists, and she seems untroubled by her lack of faith. Late in the film, it becomes clear that Mathilde and Samuel, considered by some to be the unholy interlopers in a world of peace and piety, are in fact more aware of the implications of their own vocation as doctors than some of the women in the convent.

That in part is the genius of the film: it doesn't force Mathilde or Samuel to have some kind of religious awakening in order to act as an angel of mercy for the nuns, nor does it lump all the pregnant women into one category, with one way of thinking about their predicament. Those women are painted as full, complex characters in a few deft strokes—women who are struggling after rape to know whether they believe in something anymore, to understand their vows of chastity, to live in the problem of theodicy every day.

The word "beauty" gets tossed around irresponsibly a lot, often by people who feel the need to invoke it in art's defense. But that does beauty a disservice. It is not a quality that lets us feel the things we find pleasant are worthwhile; it is an unruly, unsafe force that we feel in our bones rather than our minds, and that makes us desire. (To say that beauty is erotic isn't to tie it to sex; it's to say it makes us want, in a non-rational way.)

So to say Agnus Dei is a stunningly beautiful film isn't to aestheticize it. Most of the film’s images could be paintings, images of women shot in the natural light and shadow of the convent, of stark forests laden with snow, backed by the sounds of the women singing their prayers and—finally—Max Richter’s “On the Nature of Daylight” (which I only recognized because it’s the melody that makes me most achingly sad, in all the world). But every bit of this comes at great price to the wounded and victimized.

But it is that beauty, evoked by the film's sensual elements rather than its narrative ones, that forms the film’s run at the theodicy question. Various characters try to give an answer for what has happened through appeals to beauty’s companions: truth and goodness. But those are insufficient on their own. Living a perfect life after tragedy cannot heal the tragedy; simply reiterating the truth isn’t enough to cover violence.

The characters never talk about beauty, living in the austerity of war-torn Poland on the one hand and the convent on the other. Instead, Fontaine allows the images and music to simply seep into the viewer’s bones, suggesting a third way of living with trauma. As one of the nuns points out to Mathilde, even when the war ends, the world is not going to be more kind to them. What saves them, ultimately, is a closer connection to the world outside their walls, to messier parts of life, to the beauty of the world in its woundedness.

In his dense book The Beauty of the Infinite: The Aesthetics of Christian Truth, David Bentley Hart writes about beauty and power:

Christ is a persuasion, a form evoking desire, and the whole force of the gospel depends upon the assumption that this persuasion is also peace: that the desire awakened by the shape of Christ and his church is one truly reborn as agape, rather than merely the way in which a lesser force succumbs to a greater, as an episode in the endless epic of power.

The film’s French title is Les innocentes, which is perhaps a better moniker. Many “innocent” people have been victimized by those with power—from the nuns and their offspring to the children who need someone to watch over them. Peace is what they yearn for: peace in which the lesser force, having surrendered to a greater one, is not hurt but made whole.

Agnus Dei doesn't give a definitive solution. It just points to a few starting places. And it makes us long for peace.

Alissa Wilkinson is Christianity Today's chief film critic and an assistant professor of English and humanities at The King's College in New York City. She tweets @alissamarie.

Check out the original article on Christianity Today site

 

Lessons from Star Wars Relationships

"I was pleasantly surprised at how these characters and events can give insights into our most important relationships." (Poster | Star Wars)

I write a lot about healthy relationships. I've done plenty of posts offering principles for a strong marriage or keys to coaching your kids on how to enter romantic relationships with wisdom. It's what I do.

I'm also a big Star Wars fan. Given the fact that The Force Awakens (episode 7 for those who aren't paying attention) opens this week, I couldn't help but mine the Star Wars canon for some valuable relationship advice. After some thoughtful consideration, I was pleasantly surprised at how these characters and events from "a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away" can give us insights into our most important relationships.

For no particular reason, I've chosen to put these bits of wisdom in an order that generally reflects the timeline of when we encountered the characters and events. Whether you are married or hoping to coach your kids, I'm sure these truths will absolutely revolutionize your life. Or not.

Romantic Relationships Begun During Times of Stress are Doomed to Fail
Romantic Relationships Begun During Times of Stress are Doomed to Fail
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
One day you're in a dead end job as a moisture farmer on a desert planet. The next day your home is destroyed, your relatives are murdered and you're caught up in a plot to destroy the Galactic Empire. THIS IS NOT A GOOD TIME TO ENTER A RELATIONSHIP. Even if the girl is a imprisoned princess who has a fiery heart and who looks surprisingly awesome with her hair in ridiculous buns on either side of her head. She might give you a passionate kiss before swinging across an oddly positioned crevasse on a giant space station, but you shouldn't trust your feelings (no matter what Obi-Wan might say). This relationship is going nowhere. Which leads me to our next relationship principle…
 
Don't Flirt With Your Sister
Don't Flirt With Your Sister
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Before you start flirting with the only eligible female within twelve parsecs, make sure you first confirm that she is not, in fact, your twin sister. And whatever you do, don't kiss her to make another guy jealous. Ewww.

 

On Rare Occasions, Arrogance is More Attractive Than Humility
On Rare Occasions, Arrogance is More Attractive Than Humility
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
This is for the young men out there. When you are trying to pursue a romantic relationship with that special lady who you think is "the one," tenderhearted humility is always the right tone to take. It will almost always attract the girl more effectively than cockiness or swagger. But there is one exception. If your courtship hits a rough spot and an evil galactic dictator is about to freeze you in carbon before a bounty hunter takes you to your eventual death, all bets are off. In your last few moments of consciousness, if your girl declares, "I love you," then a perfectly appropriate response is, "I know." Chicks dig that.
 
There is Someone for Everyone
There is Someone for Everyone
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
If you have had little success in dating relationships and are wondering if there might be someone out there for you, don't lose hope. There was that brief scene in Episode One when the pod race was about to start. The vile and disgusting Jabba The Hutt steps up to the mic … and there in the background we catch a glimpse of Mrs. The Hutt. Again… Ewww. If Jabba can find a mate, then anyone can.
 
But Some People Are Single For A Reason
But Some People Are Single For A Reason
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Maybe you're an 850 year-old sage from a new age religious order who has big ears and an annoying tendency to speak with technically accurate but annoying grammar. You'll likely be single for life. Maybe you're a seven and a half foot tall dude who speaks in grunts and who has a significant back hair problem. While certainly lovable, you are forever stuck in the friend zone. Maybe your parents named you Jar Jar. Know this: everybody hates you. You are destined to die alone.
 
Look for Red Flags in Your Dating Relationships
Look for Red Flags in Your Dating Relationships
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Parents must coach their daughters to look for warning signs in the early stages of a romantic relationship. While a girl might be "in love," her significant other might have some character flaws that will negatively affect their relationship long-term. If your daughter's boyfriend shows any of these signs, you should coach her to move on:

He is at least 7 years younger than her and was absolutely annoying as a child. He grows into a handsome young man but still has the personality of a rotten turnip. His role model is a crusty old man with an eye on the absolute domination of the known galaxy. And if your daughter's boyfriend ever suggests that murdering a bunch of young trainees in his religious order is a good thing, she should take that as a warning sign that the he is not the marrying type. Better to end it now than to have to deal with his dysfunctional tendencies later.

A Final Word
Hopefully, these principles will help you to build healthy relationships in your marriage and family. As Yoda might say: "Timeless, they are."

Since one portion of our work at INFO for Families is devoted to discovering God's design for sexual health in marriage, I will offer one final piece of relationship advice to all the wives out there. If are you're looking for "a new hope" to bring some spice back into your marriage, buy one of those Princess Leia costumes from the Jabba the Hutt scene in Return of the Jedi. You can't go wrong.

Barrett and Jenifer JohnsonAfter serving in the local church for 25 years, Barrett and Jenifer launched INFO for Families as a ministry designed to encourage people through speaking, personal coaching and resource development. Barrett served for 15 years in youth ministry before serving for eight years as the Family Minister at Johnson Ferry Baptist Church in Atlanta, one of the largest churches in the South. He has degrees from Texas A&M University and Southwestern Seminary, but he and Jenifer have received their best education through the no-holds-barred nature of everyday family life.

For original article go to infoforfamilies.com

 

Joy

The film is uneven, but Joy knows just who she is. (Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation)
 
The text at the beginning of Joy, the latest film from director David O. Russell (American Hustle, Silver Linings Playbook), says it is “inspired by the true stories of daring women . . . one in particular.”
Jennifer Lawrence, Edgar Ramirez, Elisabeth Rohm, Dashca Polanco, Isabella Rossellini, Robert De Niro, and Diane Ladd in 'Joy'
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation
Jennifer Lawrence, Edgar Ramirez, Elisabeth Rohm, Dashca Polanco, Isabella Rossellini, Robert De Niro, and Diane Ladd in 'Joy'
That “one” is Joy Mangano, played here by Jennifer Lawrence, who is always fun to watch and certainly holds the film together. The character and her story are based on Mangano’s true story of inventing the Magic Mop, hawking it on the still-new QVC, and overcoming difficulty to become a business mogul able to support other inventors and entrepreneurs.
 
Russell makes weird and frenetic movies that aren’t to everyone’s taste. They lurch around a bit and at times seem more infatuated with style than substance or coherence. That shows up again in Joy, which is narrated by Joy’s grandmother (Diane Ladd) and includes a montage introduction and a couple early black-and-white scenes from a melodrama, shot in soap opera style. Soon we segue into a whirling-dervish madcap romp through Joy’s house, with Joy as the axis, populated by a motley crew of relatives: Joy’s two children and her grandmother Mimi; Joy's ex-husband (Edgar Ramirez), an aspiring singer who still lives in the basement long after the divorce; her mother, Terry (Virginia Madsen), who stays in bed and watches soap operas; her father Rudy (Robert De Niro, another Russell regular), who’s moving back in after his latest split—though he’ll have to share space with his ex-son-in-law, whom he sometimes-cordially hates. (Good thing he swiftly finds a new girlfriend in Trudy, played by Isabella Rossellini.) The family also includes Joy’s half-sister Peggy (Elisabeth Rohm), who manages Rudy’s auto repair shop and is by turns affectionate and undermining toward Joy’s efforts.
Jennifer Lawrence, Edgar Ramirez, Elisabeth Rohm, Dashca Polanco, Isabella Rossellini, Robert De Niro, and Diane Ladd in 'Joy'
Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation
Jennifer Lawrence, Robert De Niro, and Edgar Ramirez in 'Joy'
As it turns out, she learned that behavior from the family more generally. We come to understand that Joy was a gifted child with big aspirations and an active imagination, an inventor from her youth. But time and circumstance have left her, still young and vibrant, with a lot of mouths to feed and egos to placate. Those egos delight in tearing down her aspirations in the most passive-aggressive manner I can imagine (consider this your trigger warning).
 
But Joy is scrappy and persistent, and she fights her way onto QVC, still a fledgling network headed by Neil Walker (Bradley Cooper, of course). What follows is ups and downs, excruciating failure and exhilarating success, licensing debacles and mismanagement and tense negotiations. In Lawrence’s portrayal of Joy, she’s a tired, determined woman with a lot of charm and grit and desperation who can still be reduced by those she loves to a puddle of despair. What we’re watching is not the building of an empire, but a woman coming into her own.
 
That part of the film is cathartic and enjoyable, if unevenly told. Yet it leaves us with a lot of desires. For instance, I want a film about all the personalities around QVC, and around Mangano’s own later business ventures. Futures are hinted at that seem terribly interesting, enough that in this age of film-to-TV, you can’t help wonder if a series is lurking in someone’s mind. (Given how character-driven it is, the film would work splendidly, and probably be received more warmly by both audiences and critics, as an offbeat prestige comedic drama.) I want a coherently-told story; I don’t want the feeling of rushing from scene to scene.
 
lisabeth Rohm, Jennifer Lawrence, and Robert De Niro in 'Joy'
 
 
 
 
 
 
Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation
Elisabeth Rohm, Jennifer Lawrence, and Robert De Niro in 'Joy'
At the film's core is our favorite sort of story as Americans, a good old-fashioned pull-up-your-bootstraps, rags-to-riches tale of rising from humble circumstances through sheer force of will. And to tell you the truth, I was into it. By the end of Joy I felt strangely similar to the end of American Hustle—frustrated by the filmmaking, but enamored of the characters, except I didn’t feel dirty for rooting for the main character. In fact, I felt an affinity to her. I wanted to be like her. That’s the point: she’s a daring woman and meant to be an inspiration, and thankfully, she really is. (The real Joy Mangano, by the way, currently holds more than 100 patents.)
Robert De Niro, Bradley Cooper, and Jennifer Lawrence in 'Joy'
 
Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation
Robert De Niro, Bradley Cooper, and Jennifer Lawrence in 'Joy'
And so, even though Joy never really seems to figure out what sort of a movie it is, it’s still a lot of fun to watch—mostly because the woman at its center knows exactly who she is.
 
Caveat Spectator
The film is rated PG-13 for brief strong language, which is exactly what it sounds like: expletives. Otherwise, it’s all family drama.
Alissa Wilkinson is Christianity Today’s chief film critic and an assistant professor of English and humanities at The King’s College in New York City. She is co-author, with Robert Joustra, of How to Survive the Apocalypse: Zombies, Cylons, Faith, and Politics at the End of the World (Eerdmans, May 2016). She tweets @alissamarie.
 

10 Hallmark Christmas Movies Classics

10 great Christmas classics you have to watch this season. (image | fanpap, purple Merry Christmas)
 
It's Christmas time! Has Christmas season really started if the music isn't blasting and you're not planning your nightly Christmas movie marathon? – NO! No need to be embarrassed – it's everyone's guilty pleasure. Hallmark Christmas movies suck you in, and since the season of eggnog and mistletoe has officially begun, here's a list of the best Hallmark movies.
 
1. Matchmaker Santa
Matchmaker Santa
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
This is one of the best Christmas romance movies. Feeling caught between her boyfriend, and her boyfriend's best friend Dean, Melanie has a big choice to make – but not without the help of our favorite jolly friends!

2. Let It Snow
Let It Snow
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Stephanie finds both spirit in the Christmas season and romance; putting her in a hard place with some tough decisions. (Also – who doesn't love a good DJ Tanner throwback?)

3. Northpole
Northpole
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The North Pole is worried that maybe people are too stressed out to enjoy the spirit of Christmas. Finding the magic in Christmas might be the solution.

4. The Nine Lives of Christmas
The Nine Lives of Christmas
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Will Cat Ambrose change Zachary's outlook on Christmas time and finding true love?

5. Christmas Ornament
Christmas Ornament
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Grieving the loss of her late husband, Kathy decides to stop her Christmas traditions, only to find out Christmas spirit alone will bring in a special someone that changes her outlook.

6. Debbie Macomber's : Mr.Miracle
Debbie Macomber's : Mr.Miracle
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Angel Harry comes to Earth to help a woman named Addie. He's unwilling to listen to advice, and with good intentions he meddles with lives. Will he be able to help Addie open up?

7. Christmas Under Wraps
Christmas Under Wraps
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
When Lauren doesn't get the position she wanted, she ends up moving to Alaska. Unexpectedly, she falls in love only to learn that the town is hiding a pretty big secret.

8. Christmas with Holly
Christmas with Holly
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The owner of a toy store falls in love with a man caring for his niece, who refuses to talk after the death of her mother. This Christmas they will find the true meaning of family will.

9. November Christmas
November Christmas
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Eight-year-old Emily is struggling with Cancer and will not be able to do Christmas this year, so the wonderful community has an idea to make this Christmas extra special.

10. One Christmas Eve
One Christmas Eve
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Everything on Christmas CAN and WILL go wrong for one family – will they be able to combat it with Christmas Cheer?
 
If you're anything like me, you'll be done binge-watching these in a week! So in that case, tune into Hallmark for tons of new Christmas classics.
 
Movies review by Kylie Stewart. You may check out the original review at The Odyssey Online.  You can tweet Kylie online. Sea foam green, frequent coffee runs, and a whole lot of Jesus in my life.
 

Hallmark Christmas Movies: ‘Guilty Pleasure’ No More

It starts with a girl. She’s white, with immaculately curled hair. She is shy/clumsy/uptight, but deep down, she wants to open a bakery/be an artist/follow her dreams.

Then there’s the boy. He’s also white, with perfect teeth and hair like a businessman from the ‘80s. He works too much/doesn’t care about the holidays/needs help raising his kids because his wife recently died.

Maybe the roles are reversed; it doesn’t really matter. The lighthearted conflict between them goes on for 45 minutes to an hour, until they kiss at the end. Cue the music, fade to the credits, and then it starts all over again.

This is the Hallmark Channel’s Countdown to Christmas spectacular, a nonstop lineup of variations on the romantic holiday movie formula. In 2015 alone, Hallmark has released 17 new Christmas-specific movies, adding to their expansive back catalog of made-for-TV films. This year was my first time sitting down to watch their feel-good movie marathon, but the plotlines were familiar to me as an evangelical girl who grew up longing for a safe, happy, magical world where it felt like Christmas every day.

While mainstream culture scorns the romance as lowbrow and naively idealistic, it remains a hugely profitable enterprise thanks to its loyal readers and viewers. Last year, from Halloween to Christmas, Hallmark was the No. 1 channel for women age 25-54, and a single one of their holiday films, Christmas Under Wraps, attracted 5.8 million viewers. (That’s double the viewership of most Real Housewives shows.)

Once-niche “nerd” entertainment gained popular esteem as it proved itself lucrative (think Marvel movies, Star Trek reboots, and the like), but Hallmark Channel-style romance continues to elicit a degree of derision. No one is more acutely aware of the reputation of these sentimental and seasonal romances than the women who adore them. When I asked a few fans why they tuned in, the answers came in sheepish sentiments: I know they are predictable but… they are calming background noise… I just like happy endings… Christmas is a hard time of year, and they make me feel good… I’m probably too idealistic, but they are just so full of warmth….

These caveats offer some protection from judgment and let others know that they are aware of the criticisms of the genre. But perhaps loving the Hallmark Channel at Christmastime isn’t something to apologize for. More broadly, it may be time a shift in our language when we talk about loving something that we know isn’t perfect.

My friend (and Christ and Pop Culture founder) Richard Clark once told me he doesn’t believe in guilty pleasures. Watch what you want to watch, he said. If you truly feel guilty about watching something, maybe you should turn it off. As I read what fans told me about these pleasant movies, chock-full of bland actors and hopeful messages, I realized there is nothing to feel guilty about. They contain nothing morally wrong or hurtful or violent or exploitative. And yet, people (mostly women), still do.

Perhaps our desire for elite taste beyond the Hallmark Channel fare comes out of a sense of pop culture classism. While exploring the enormous popularity of Celine Dion, music writer Carl Wilson presented a theory from sociologist Pierre Bourdieu wherein taste becomes a way “to set ourselves apart from those whose social ranking is beneath us, and to take aim at the social status we feel we deserve.” We see this play out culturally in our sneers directed at Celine, romantic movies, or even the incredibly popular Adele. Anything deemed so accessible by women—women from a wide variety of classes, in particular—automatically becomes an issue of bad taste for those who consider themselves more refined.

This gendered and class-based judgment should distress us as Christians, as people called to break down cultural distinctions and barriers, not create or uphold them (especially when we happen to be on the “winning” or “artistically savvy” side). No one, as far as I can tell, regards the romance genre as a bastion of artistic innovation or importance. But as another music critic, Joel Heng Hartse writes, “What is taste, after all, other than love?” So many people love these movies and find them as hopeful as they are improbable. Perhaps the enormous popularity of romantic holiday movies serves as a reminder of our desire see happy endings played out before us, at least every now and again.

To be honest, the few movies I watched as research for this essay felt only mildly pleasant. I chuckled a little bit. Immersed in a world of few problems and many beautiful people, I felt happy enough when they got together in the end. I will probably watch one or two a year (any more than that and it does start to feel a bit like a money-making cash enterprise, the movies subsisting to sell advertising spots). As the writer and Countdown to Christmas fan Addie Zierman told me:

There's also a little tiny part of me that finds it sort of nice—this idea that somehow during Christmastime people start to see things better. Truer. They let go of old hurts. They forgive their parents. The go home after being away too long. They make peace with their past. Things are made right in the end.

Those desires—to see and experience forgiveness, homecoming, peace, redemption—all stem from deep spiritual needs. And wouldn’t it be better if we didn’t judge people for seeking out those kinds of stories, if instead we strove to find the commonalities of desire that transcend gender, race, and class? Now that would be a Christmas miracle, indeed.

D. L. Mayfield’s writing has appeared in various publications such as CT, McSweeney's, and Image Journal, among others. Her favorite romantic comedy is “The Decoy Bride” starring the magnificent David Tennant. Her book of essays titled Assimilate Or Go Home: Notes From a Failed Missionary on Rediscovering Faith will be out from HarperOne in August 2016. Find her at dlmayfield.com or on Twitter.