Last Christmas

There is something uniquely humiliating about wearing a jingle-bell hat while your life is actively cratering into a dumpster fire. We meet Kate in the middle of that crater, wandering through a cold London winter in a grimy elf suit, clutching a rolling suitcase like a security blanket. It’s a messy, relatable image that immediately sets Last Christmas apart from the glossy, sanitized holiday specials that usually clog up our streaming queues every December. I watched this one on a Tuesday night while nursing a massive blister from a pair of new boots, which felt strangely appropriate given how much Kate complains about her own aching feet.

Released in late 2019, right before the world went into a collective hibernation, Last Christmas arrived as a bit of an anomaly. In a cinematic landscape increasingly dominated by the $200 million spectacles of the MCU—this was the year of Avengers: Endgame, after all—a mid-budget, original romantic comedy felt like a rebellious act. It’s the kind of film that Paul Feig (Bridesmaids, Spy) does best: centering on a complicated, often unlikeable woman and letting her be loud, drunk, and occasionally terrible before finding her footing.

The Manic Pixie Dream Boy Flip

Emilia Clarke is a revelation here, mostly because she finally got to shed the stoic weight of Game of Thrones and let her eyebrows do the heavy lifting. Her Kate is a disaster—a failed singer who treats her friends like stepping stones and her body like a trash can. Then she meets Tom, played by Henry Golding (Crazy Rich Asians). If Kate is a thunderstorm, Tom is a sunbeam. He’s charming, he doesn't use a cell phone, and he’s constantly telling her to "look up."

In any other era, Tom would be the "Manic Pixie Dream Boy," a shallow character existing only to fix the protagonist’s life. But there’s a deliberate, almost eerie perfection to Henry Golding’s performance that hints at something more. Their chemistry is breezy and sweet, even when they’re just walking through the hidden alleys of London. It’s refreshing to see a romantic lead who isn’t a brooding billionaire, but rather a guy who volunteers at a homeless shelter and dances around lamp posts.

While the romance is the engine, the supporting cast provides the high-octane fuel. Michelle Yeoh, fresh off the success of Crazy Rich Asians and a few years away from her Everything Everywhere All At Once Oscar sweep, is hysterical as "Santa," the no-nonsense owner of the year-round Christmas shop. Her burgeoning romance with a customer she nicknames "Boy" is arguably more entertaining than the main plot. Then there’s Emma Thompson, who not only co-wrote the script but plays Kate’s overbearing, traumatized Yugoslavian mother, Petra. Her performance is the cinematic equivalent of a spiked eggnog—a little too much at first, but eventually, you’re glad it’s there.

A George Michael Fever Dream

You can’t talk about this movie without talking about George Michael. This isn’t just a movie with his songs; it’s a movie grown from his DNA. The project actually began when producer David Livingstone discussed the idea with George Michael himself years before his passing in 2016. The singer gave his blessing, provided Emma Thompson was involved.

The soundtrack is a greatest-hits parade, including an unreleased track called "This Is How (We Want You to Get High)" that plays over the credits. It gives the film a melancholic, nostalgic undertone that balances the slapstick comedy. When Kate sings a stripped-back version of "Heal the Pain," it’s a genuine emotional pivot point. It serves as a reminder that the film is less about finding a boyfriend and more about Kate finding her own soul again.

Apparently, the production had to be incredibly careful while filming in London's Covent Garden. To avoid massive crowds, they shot in the middle of the night, finishing just as the real commuters started to arrive. That "empty London" vibe adds to the dreamlike quality of Kate and Tom’s nightly strolls. It’s a beautiful, sparkling version of the city that John Schwartzman’s cinematography captures without it feeling like a cheap tourist brochure.

The Twist That Divided the Internet

We have to talk about the "twist." Without spoiling the specifics for the three people who haven't had it ruined by a YouTube thumbnail, I’ll say this: you’ll either find it incredibly moving or you’ll want to throw your remote at the screen. When the film was released, social media discourse was a literal battlefield. Critics called it manipulative; audiences, meanwhile, powered it to a very healthy $121 million box office.

In our current era of "spoiler culture," Last Christmas is a fascinating case study. It’s a movie that demands a second viewing just to see how many clues Paul Feig hid in plain sight. Looking back, the film handles its themes of organ donation and the immigrant experience in post-Brexit London with a surprising amount of sincerity for a movie that also features a joke about a frozen fish.

Is it a "new classic"? Maybe not in the way The Apartment is. But in an age where the rom-com is often relegated to "content" meant to be half-watched on a phone, Last Christmas has enough heart and weirdness to earn its place on the shelf. It’s a film about the collective baggage we all carry and the messy process of unpacking it.

Ultimately, Last Christmas works because it isn't afraid to be a bit of a downer before it picks you back up. It’s colorful, it’s loud, and Emma Thompson's accent is genuinely wild. If you’re looking for a holiday film that understands that December can be as lonely as it is festive, this is your bag. Just bring some tissues for the final act—you’re going to need them.