The joy of Christmas movies

When Christmas rolls around, there’s nothing I look forward to more than sinking into the lounge for a good holiday movie. These festive films hold a special spot in my heart, and every year I feel a tingle of anticipation, eager to choose which new Christmas flick will kick off the season. The latest Netflix releases always catch my eye—even though, let’s be honest, most of them follow the same tried-and-true recipe as a classic Hallmark movie.

There’s something irresistibly charming about these films: the predictable storylines, the cosy holiday settings, and endings you can see coming a mile off. Yet that’s exactly the magic that draws me in and flips the switch on my festive spirit. The comfort of a familiar plot feels like a gentle antidote to the December chaos, offering a pocket of calm in the middle of the storm. Outside, the world whirls by in a blur of shopping lists, frantic plans, and jam-packed schedules, all racing towards Christmas Day.

Shopping, for me, means squeezing through crowds, stressing over finding the perfect gift, and watching my bank balance dwindle—before even facing the ordeal of circling the carpark hunting for a spot. More than once I’ve seen tempers flare and people doing endless laps, all hoping for a miracle parking space. Amidst all this hustle, it’s no wonder I find comfort in the world of Christmas movies—a universe where the biggest worry is whether the tree’s tinsel matches the fairy lights, not whether you’ll make it through the checkout queue before your patience snaps.

As I watch, I’m often amused by how every single person in these charming towns seems to dedicate themselves entirely to Christmas. The shopkeepers, the mayor, even the local mechanic—somehow everyone drops what they’re doing to throw themselves into festive activities. Does anyone actually go to work in these magical villages, or is celebrating Christmas their full-time gig? I like to imagine council meetings where the only debate is over which colour scheme to choose for the town square tree, and where shop windows are draped in tinsel instead of sale signs. Sometimes I reckon there must be a secret Christmas training academy out there—where everyone perfects their carolling and snowball-throwing technique before December arrives, with “Festive Spirit 101” as a required subject and a final exam in synchronised bauble hanging!

These holiday films have become a cherished tradition for Mum and me. We carefully pick our lineup, nestle in together, and have a laugh at some of the more ridiculous plot twists—like guessing exactly which bloke the main character will end up with before the first act is even over. Sometimes we pause the film to debate whether anyone in real life would cover their house in quite so many fairy lights, or if any council would truly blow the whole budget on a giant candy cane archway. That’s how Lindsay Lohan is becoming the Michael Bublé of Christmas movies.

It’s not just the stories that draw me in—it’s the whole sensory experience. The glow of fairy lights casts a warm shimmer on the walls, the gentle crackle of wrapping paper fills the air as gifts are stashed beneath the tree, and the scent of pine and cinnamon wafts through the house. The distant hum of carols, the taste of shortbread fresh from the oven, and the soft weight of a favourite blanket all blend together, making the living room feel like a cocoon of holiday cheer. Every flicker of candlelight and every rustle of ribbon pull me deeper into the season’s magic, wrapping me up in nostalgia and comfort.

For me, Christmas movies go well beyond entertainment—they’re a tradition stitched together with laughter, familiar stories, and shared treats. They remind me that the heart of the season isn’t about perfect gifts or elaborate plans, but about simple moments spent with loved ones. As the credits roll and the last sparkle of fairy lights fades into the evening, I’m always reminded that these small, joyful rituals are the true magic of Christmas.