Holidate (2020)

(Netflix Streaming, October 2021) If, like me, you’re wondering where all of the mid-budgeted studio romantic comedies have gone, take heart: the streaming revolution is among us, and with it the return of such movies dumped overboard by superhero-chasing studios. Holidate, from Netflix, is not just a romantic comedy according to the rules of the genre, but a self-aware one that keeps poking and prodding at the conventions before giving in to them. The premise is simple: a single attractive young woman and a single attractive young man agree to date each other for the holidays, saving them the trouble of finding someone to accompany them to themed parties and family events. We all know where it’s going and so do the characters, who openly comment on silly movie conventions even as they each share a ridiculous amount of chemistry. There are plenty of subplots, quirky supporting characters and set-pieces to go around (ensuring that the film concludes with every character happily paired), as well as enough laughs to bolster the comedy part of this romantic comedy. Alas, Holidate is perhaps a bit too modern, because it can’t help itself from excessive profanity (not that bothersome) and excessive violence (bothersome—can we have just one romantic comedy without amputation these days?) in the pursuit of finger puns. (One notes that the script was written by a woman.)  The ending could have been slightly stronger (although the choral “JACKSON!” is a nice touch) and less drawn-out, but it does the job. Neither Emma Roberts nor Luke Bracey are anywhere near my list of favourite actors, but they do well here—even if Kristin Chenoweth reliably steals nearly every scene she’s in. Chicago is used as a somewhat generic backdrop, but director John Whitesell keeps things moving with some energy, especially in scenes set in big parties. I wasn’t expecting much from Holidate, but the result is more aggressively comedic than I expected, and just romantic enough to be effective.