Although it has bitten me before, I let my boyfriend take the wheel again. He could choose any Christmas film to watch, and he chose… A Christmas Karen.
A Christmas Karen is a low budget take on A Christmas Carol, but starring a Karen. Much like The Knight Before Christmas, it’s possible someone came up with the name first and the script later, but I’ll allow it this time.
Karen is introduced as a middle aged, full-fat nightmare; a residents’ association final boss complete with an I WISH TO SPEAK WITH THE MANAGER haircut and leopard print pyjamas.
She calls the police on her kid neighbour who’s selling hot chocolate outside her house, tries to get the mother arrested and then steals some for herself, because she’s that kind of bitch. She complains about her ridiculously convoluted coffee order and refuses to pay for it. She is a nasty gossip. She is racist, homophobic, entitled, joyless and awful.
She may not look much like Ebeneezer Scrooge, but she is exactly the kind of person that should be scared into behaving better via the medium of ghosts.
After a long hard day of being a total cow to everyone within a five-mile radius, Karen is drinking wine in her kitchen.
Suddenly, the ghost of Jackie, her old boss, appears.
She was also aggressively unpleasant, but Karen admired and respected her. She died at a Christmas party after being nasty to someone and nicking the last bacon-wrapped Tater Tot. Jackie shows up as a Tesco Value Marley, together with the clanking chains of purgatory, where lost souls hang about. Karen doesn’t want to be one of these souls, does she?!
Jackie tells her she’ll be visited by three ghosts. Then she vanishes, presumably to continue being dead and horrible somewhere else, and Karen goes to bed.
First up is Gary, Ghost of Christmas Past.
Gary is camp, fabulous, and very gay. He is also black; two things our Karen struggles with, because she is profoundly unlikeable. He takes Karen back through her childhood and early adulthood, walking her (and us) through her villain origin story. You see her being neglected as a child, arguing with her brother, Todd, and then at her first job in a bar where she is outshone by her cute black colleague; something she never managed to forgive.
She visits her job in a hairdressers working with Jackie, where she cheers on Jackie treating a delivery guy like shit and falls out with Todd.
Then we meet Joy, Ghost of Christmas Present.
Joy is British (Actually British, I checked). She takes Karen around the neighbourhood to show her the real-time consequences of her entitled behaviour.
She sees the girl next door, Nia, who has leukemia and whose parents are struggling to afford the meds (yay for American healthcare!). She sees Nia’s dad lose his job at the underfunded homeless mothers’ shelter Karen is trying to shut down, and watches him resort to taking presents from the donation point for his little girl so she’ll have something for Christmas. She is taken to the home of the brother she hasn’t spoken to in years; he’s holding a Christmas party and everyone is slagging her off. She visits a magical Christmas lights fundraiser which she’s petitioned to get shut down because it slowed down her commute.
Finally, there’s Damon, Ghost of Christmas Future.
Damon is emo. Damon does not need to explain much because the future speaks for itself.
Nia died. Her family couldn’t afford her medication, because America is a third world country that lets kids die if they’re poor. (Seems like a good time to remind people – don’t vote Reform or this won’t just be a scary ghost story).
Nia’s death is obviously sad, but people appear to be making light of it – what?! Surely no one would celebrate the death of a sweet little kid?!
Of course they aren’t; Karen is also dead. She electrocuted herself drinking margaritas in her pool, no one came to her funeral, and her house was sold to a Mexican family. Damon’s whole job is to stand there like a goth HR warning and let that sink in.
Camp Gary brings the sass. British Joy brings the guilt. Emo Damon brings the existential dread. Together, they form an effective supernatural intervention team that feels less Dickensian and more like a theatre group’s Christmas fundraiser. I don’t hate it.
Then Karen wakes up, and it’s Christmas!
Karen is joyful. She asks a passing teenager what day it is – and buys his skateboard from him for a vastly increased price because Nia wants one for Christmas. She actively corrects herself when she uses racial slurs, like a nana doing her absolute best not to ruin Christmas, which is not heroic but it is progress. She can’t find wine (who runs out of wine at Christmas?!), but confidently declares that in her gloriously diverse neighbourhood there will obviously be a shop open somewhere. She dances in the supermarket, where she is kind to the shop workers and does not demand to see the manager!
Karen is not a monumental cunt anymore!
She even donates $5,000 to save the homeless mothers’ shelter. She visits her brother and his husband, and apologises properly for missing their wedding.
Next on her apology tour, she goes to see her neighbours who are sitting in sad, quiet reflection in their sparse house. She brings with her boxes containing all the collectibles she’s been stashing – dolls, Beanie Babies, Steiff bears – and tells Nia’s mum to sell them all to raise money. (They sensibly agree to go 50/50 on the collectibles because redemption has a budget).
They demand she come round for dinner that night, which is mad, but OK.
The verdict on A Christmas Karen
I’m still not entirely sure what I thought of this film. It was bizarre. It was low budget. But I laughed, which is increasingly rare. Actual out-loud laughter, and I wasn’t even that drunk when I watched it. It didn’t take itself seriously once, and didn’t once think it was dragging on either, which feels like a perfectly acceptable Christmas outcome.
Obviously it didn’t have any Muppets in it, which means it’s never going to be the best version of A Christmas Carol, but if you’re looking for Dickens-adjacent Christmas films without frogs and pigs then it’s a fun watch (unless your name happens to be Karen).
Rating: 8/10. Ridiculous but it’s pretty much Christmas and I’m merry.
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