‘Had I known of the actual horrors of the German concentration camps, I could not have made fun of the homicidal insanity of the Nazis.’ So wrote Charlie Chaplin, some two decades after his Great Dictator tickled the war torn millions of Europe and America. A further half century on, it’s hard to imagine that Taika Waititi will ever decree regret for Jojo Rabbit. If anything, the New Zealander is more likely to wind up wishing this deliriously flippant, self-proclaimed ‘anti-hate satire’ were more politically incorrect. And yet, if the brio of the film’s first half proves unsustainable across Waititi’s full script, such a decline barely detracts from the funniest film of the year bar none.
The Holiday, Jingle All The Way, Four Christmases…each gifted a frosty release reception by critics but adored with enduring regard by cross-generational audiences. At this funny time of year, festive features defy slovenly box office returns and common sense to become the most re-watched of all time. Even It’s a Wonderful Life bombed. Hoping to join this upper echelon of absurd timelessness, Paul Feig’s Emma Thompson and Greg Wise scripted Last Christmas – met with misery in most early reviews – ticks many boxes. It is a flawed gem. Of that there can be no question. And yet, there’s likability here in abundance, driven by good humour and a genially engaging cast.
‘You know, it doesn’t normally snow on Christmas Eve.’ So says Joan Cusacks’ local, tin-foil wearing narrator as Let it Snow, Netflix’s latest entry to the festive canon, opens. Any slim chance that this might be some ironic nod to the fact that it always snows on Christmas Eve in films such as this dissipates rapidly. This is earnest, predictable material, carved from an algorithmic record of past successes. It’s woke Love Actually for the streaming generation, chockablock with YA stars and extracts from the Richard Curtis back catalogue. There’s no depth nor visceral meaning whatsoever here but it’s likeable enough in bite-size skits.
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