A Merry Little Ex-Mas

The holiday season in the mid-2020s has become a strange tug-of-war between the glossy, over-saturated perfection of "content" and a desperate, clawing need for something that feels even remotely like real life. We’re deep in an era where Christmas movies are either manufactured by an AI that watched too much Hallmark or are subversions so dark they make Bad Santa look like The Muppet Christmas Carol. Steve Carr, the man who navigated the mall-dwelling chaos of Paul Blart: Mall Cop, finds a middle ground with A Merry Little Ex-Mas. It’s a film that understands the modern "messy" family aesthetic while keeping one foot firmly planted in the comfort of a big-budget streaming comedy.

I watched this while my cat, Barnaby, sat on my remote and accidentally toggled the subtitles to Icelandic for twenty minutes, and honestly, the physical comedy is so broad I didn't even mind. You don't need a translation to understand the sheer panic on Alicia Silverstone's face when her ex-husband walks through the door with a woman who looks like she was grown in a lab to trigger insecurities.

The Ghost of Divorce Past

The setup is classic "last hurrah" territory. Kate Holden (Alicia Silverstone) is determined to have one final, perfectly curated Christmas before her divorce from Everett (Oliver Hudson) is finalized and their family home is sold. It’s a relatable, if slightly masochistic, goal. We’ve all been there—trying to preserve a memory that has already started to rot at the edges. Silverstone, who has transitioned beautifully into this "charming but slightly frayed mom" phase of her career, brings a frantic energy that feels far more grounded than her Clueless days. She’s the emotional anchor here, and she needs to be, because the plot moves with the speed of a runaway bobsled once the "New Girlfriend" arrives.

Enter Tess Wiley (Jameela Jamil). If you’ve seen Jamil in The Good Place, you know she excels at playing characters who are inadvertently exhausting. As Tess, she is a "lifestyle influencer and venture capitalist" who brings vegan eggnog and a sense of "wellness" that acts like a flashbang in a room full of people just trying to eat some damn ham. Jameela Jamil’s character is essentially a sentient Instagram filter, and the friction between her curated perfection and Kate’s crumbling reality provides the film’s best comedic sparks.

Carr’s Comedy Calibration

Steve Carr’s direction has always favored physical stakes over subtle wit, and A Merry Little Ex-Mas is no different. There’s a sequence involving a malfunctioning high-tech Christmas tree and a frantic attempt to hide Tess’s presence from the neighbors that feels like vintage Carr. It’s broad, yes, but it works because the chemistry between the leads is surprisingly genuine. Oliver Hudson has mastered the art of looking like a Golden Retriever who accidentally ate a divorce decree—he’s lovable, misguided, and perpetually confused by how he ended up with a girlfriend who wants to "disrupt" the concept of tinsel.

The film also benefits from a bit of "dynasty casting" that adds an extra layer of warmth for those of us who track Hollywood lineages. Wilder Hudson, Oliver’s actual son, plays Gabriel Holden, and that real-world father-son shorthand translates to some of the movie's most touching, non-slapstick moments. It’s a clever move by producer Melissa Joan Hart, who has essentially become the stealth architect of the modern holiday movie landscape through Hartbreak Films. She knows that while people come for the laughs, they stay for the fuzzy feeling that maybe, just maybe, family isn't a total disaster.

Modern Mistletoe and Production Polish

In terms of 2025 aesthetics, the film looks great. Adam Santelli’s cinematography avoids the flat, fluorescent look of many direct-to-streaming holiday flicks, opting instead for a warm, amber-hued glow that makes the Holden house look like somewhere you’d actually want to spend $40 on a candle. The score by Jeff Cardoni hits the expected bells and whistles but stays out of the way during the more "cringe-comedy" beats.

The script by Holly Hester manages to weave in some contemporary observations about the "Instagrammization" of the holidays without feeling like a "Get Off My Lawn" lecture. It acknowledges that in our current moment, the pressure to appear happy is often more exhausting than the work required to be happy. My only real gripe is the pacing in the second act; the film occasionally gets bogged down in a subplot involving Pierson Fodé as a neighbor who is clearly there just to be eye candy and a romantic red herring for Kate. He's essentially a human plot device with abs, and while I’m not complaining about the view, his scenes feel like they belong in a different, more formulaic movie.

There’s also the matter of the "Ex-Mas" title itself. It’s a bit punny for its own good, but it signals exactly what you're getting: a film about the transition from a traditional unit to something new and undefined. It’s a "streaming era" movie through and through—designed to be watched with a glass of wine while you’re wrapping gifts, offering just enough bite to keep you awake but enough sugar to make it go down easy.

Stuff You Didn't Notice

One of the more interesting behind-the-scenes tidbits involves the "tech-tree" disaster scene. Apparently, the crew actually broke three of the high-end LED trees (which were custom-built for the production) because Oliver Hudson’s improvisational wrestling with the branches was a bit more "kinetic" than the engineers anticipated. Also, keep an eye out for a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it cameo from Melissa Joan Hart herself as a disgruntled shopper in the opening montage—a nice nod to her role as the film’s "holiday godmother."

A Merry Little Ex-Mas doesn’t reinvent the holiday wheel, but it does give it a much-needed alignment for the 2020s. It’s a breezy, 91-minute reminder that while the "perfect family Christmas" is a myth we’ve all been sold, the messy, loud, and slightly awkward version is usually the one worth keeping. Silverstone and Hudson are a delight to watch, and even if some of the jokes land with a thud, the heart of the film is in the right place. It’s the perfect candidate for a "one-and-done" holiday viewing that leaves you feeling a little better about your own chaotic relatives.