HOLLYWOOD WELCOMES THE GAYS TO THE CHRISTMAS FEAST

I’m not much for TV movies and normally no amount of rum in the eggnog will get me to sit through some schlockly new Christmas movie. “Rudolph,” “Elf” and “A Christmas Story” have all the merriment I need. But this is 2020, a year normal’s been shelved and everything continues to be radically shaken up. (Who would dare send gifts marked FRAGILE?)

In recent weeks, I’d come across a flurry of lightweight news articles about gays and lesbians featured as lead characters in Christmas movies. Groundbreaking, they all said. Really? I’d never really felt anything was missing in terms of seasonal fare since I’ve said here and here that “Rudolph” has long been my go-to for making the Yuletide gay. Still, on Friday afternoon as I wrapped up my week of writing, I stumbled on yet another article a gay Christmas movie...this time, “The Christmas Setup.” If it hadn’t been scheduled to air later that same evening, I’d have forgotten all about it. But after dinner and having absolutely nothing to do on a Friday night—I’ll pretend that it’s all COVID’s fault—I turned on the TV.

As it turned out, the article I’d read had listed the wrong time and I was an hour early tuning in. I was about to turn off the TV, but one of those impossibly good looking model/actors was on the screen, listening as his female Black friend talked about another guy being single...a possibility not for her but for Stunning Actor Guy.

Was I hearing this right? Maybe I should watch a little more, just for clarification.

Then Shania Twain’s “Any Man of Mine” came on and I put the remote aside. I smile every time she sings, “Anything I do or say better be okay when I have a bad hair day.” Amen! As guy and gal pal joined in some line dancing, I thought I spotted Andie MacDowell whom I always thought was a terrible actress. There she was in cowboy boots and looking like she was finally aging properly, presumably having lost her L’Oréal commercial gig. All of this made for novelty viewing. I retrieved the remote to find out what I was watching. Hark all the heralding angels, it turned out to be another gay Christmas movie, “Dashing in December.” I quashed a surging humbug instinct, dismissed the logical argument that there was no point in watching a movie halfway through and surrendered to fake snow, a gazebo strung up in Christmas lights and more time to ogle the pretty boy playing a somewhat cold character named Wyatt. Was he really that cold or was this actor—Peter Porte, as a commercial break Google search revealed—emoting as best he could, coming from the MacDowell school of acting? (I think it was a bit of both.)

I don’t think I missed much from the first hour of the movie. The plot seemed to keep repeating itself for other latecomers. Family farm for sale. Mother and son still haven’t coped with the death of husband/dad. A studly gay ranch hand is more connected to the land than the commitment-phobic, high-flying son who’s shunned all things about his rural roots in favor of New York City. Will Wyatt have a change of heart and decide the ranch is worth keeping and the ranch hand is worth romancing?

It’s a Christmas movie. There are no spoilers because there are no surprises. Everybody finds love—Mom, son and ranch hand, best gal pal. Candy canes for all!

Okay then.

Wisely forgoing a commercial break, the channel segued immediately into “The Christmas Setup.” Another successful New York gay guy, single of course, with another minority gal pal, Asian this time. Again, it’s a home for the holidays scenario, this time with a New York lawyer heading back with faithful friend in tow to his Milwaukee hometown to be greeted by Fran Drescher who, unlike Andie MacDowell, has never struggled with emoting. Instead of saving the ranch, the focus becomes saving a train station and, instead of a ranch hand, there’s a never-acted-upon high school crush to make our Big City main character confused about where his head and heart should land. (This movie also has a dead husband/dad, but I don’t think that’s part of a Christmas movie formula. I suspect it just keeps the casting budget down.)

No surprises in this flick either. For me, it came off as the cuter movie, the lead carrying an aw-shucks demeanor that seemed very Canadian. (Turns out he is.) There were a couple of added reasons for viewing since I’d read that the two leads were, in fact, a married couple and the movie was shot in locations close to my family cottage in Ontario. Once again, in this movie, everyone gets their Christmas wishes granted. (It seems Fran Drescher’s doting mom character is content enough to have her two sons home for the holidays. No Cupid intervention for her despite the fact that the high school sweetheart’s dad also seems to be unattached. Maybe that storyline got cut to make room for commercials. Or maybe it’s just too hard for any actor to stand out alongside Drescher. Why, oh why, was Charles Shaughnessy unavailable?)

Both movies go down like store-bought shortbread. Did I really need that?! Whether the question pertains to the movies or the cookies, the answer is, “Of course not!” Still, with a shrug and a no-further-logic-required “’Tis the season,” sometimes you just have to surrender to the holidays. Bonus that one of the movies—at this point, I don’t remember which—played a Sara Bareilles Christmas tune.

Three hours came and went and I can say with certainty they passed better than the Friday night office Christmas party of yesteryear. 2020 ain’t all bad.