Holidate has been repeatedly suggested by people following my much-revered Christmas Film Review series and to be honest I thought I’d already seen it. Evidently, I hadn’t. So today, along with my boyfriend, my dog and my hangover, I watched it in bed.
Holidate is a film about two people who agree not to fall in love.
Obviously they then spend an entire year doing exactly that: on every legitimate holiday and several that feel questionable.
Sloane (Emma Roberts) is single at Christmas, which her family treats as a personal failing requiring immediate corrective action. She’s relegated to the kids’ table, interrogated by her mother, and forced to watch her younger brother propose in front of the entire family while she gets progressively drunker and more single.
Meanwhile Jackson (Luke Bracey, Australian, earns points later for saying ‘wanker’) has gone home with a woman who has unilaterally announced to her entire family that he is her boyfriend. He hasn’t bought her a present, is wedged between her parents in matching jumpers, and eventually storms out like a man who has briefly glimpsed his future and is terrified.
They meet in the most post-Christmas location imaginable: a shop returns desk, both trying to exchange shit Christmas presents. Trauma bonding ensues. Sloane introduces the concept of Holidates: a fake date for every holiday so you don’t have to explain your life choices to relatives. Jackson agrees, reassuring her he doesn’t find her attractive. This is, of course, the strongest possible foundation for true love.
What follows is a merciless calendar montage.
The meet up for New Year’s, Valentine’s, St Patrick’s Day (is that even a real holiday?), Easter, Cinco de Mayo (not one I was previously aware of but sure, if there’s tequila I’m in), Mother’s Day (absolutely not appropriate), Fourth of July, a wedding on Labor Day (whatever that is) and Halloween, then it’s Thanksgiving, and finally Christmas again.
Their first Holidate seems promising; It’s New Years, they’re looking hot. They bond by being snarky about strangers. They drink. They dance. They attempt the Dirty Dancing lift and her tits fall out. Jackson misses the New Year’s kiss because he’s gone for a wee. He tries to lock her in for Valentine’s while insisting it’s not emotional. She claims she’ll have better options but we all know she absolutely will not.
Along the way:
- Her mum repeatedly tries to set her up with neighbour Dr Farooq, who later turns out to be the hospital doctor when Jackson blows his finger off with fireworks.
- Jackson casually mentions shagging a cocktail waitress, which Sloane is definitely fine with and absolutely not jealous about.
- There’s a tequila-heavy night where neither can remember if they had sex, so they sensibly agree nothing happened.
- Sloane’s sister accidentally laces her with laxatives before Halloween, leading to a bath scene where Jackson tenderly but uselessly sprays her back with a showerhead in a tub big enough for ten people. He promises never to tell anyone she shat herself. A prince.
One thing I cannot ignore is Sloane’s family’s frankly anarchic approach to event invitations. Jackson is invited to her brother’s wedding in his own right after meeting them fewer than a handful of times. Her ex-boyfriend Luc turns up at Halloween with his heavily pregnant girlfriend for no reason whatsoever. This isn’t fate; it’s catastrophic guest-list hygiene.
After the Halloween laxative incident, Sloane and Jackson finally have sex.
Personally, I wouldn’t feel at my sexiest the day after my internal organs attempted an escape via my anus, but fine. You do you.
Immediately afterwards, Sloane’s sister arrives having done a Bad Thing involving another man, and Jackson leaves without so much as a cup of coffee; the most unforgivable act in the film.
They are both too stubborn to speak to each other like adults, but it doesn’t matter because Thanksgiving is looming and their contractual obligation means they have to see each other anyway. This goes exactly as well as you’d expect: they fight in a supermarket and he leaves.
Kristen Chenoweth’s Aunt Susan walks off with the film entirely.
Kristen was one of my favourite things about the surprisingly good Our Little Secret, and in my eyes she can do no wrong.
Aunt Susan is the original Holidater: a different man for every occasion, zero apologies. She hooks up with the much younger Dr Farooq at the wedding, dates him briefly, then dumps him and turns up to Thanksgiving with a man called Wally, who promptly has a heart attack. After dropping Wally at the hospital, Susan has a late-stage rom-com epiphany, realises she loves Farooq (who appears to be the only doctor in town), and goes for it.
The Thanksgiving heart attack is where the film turns a corner; Aunt Susan admits that constantly cycling through men might not be the bold, liberated life choice she makes it out to be and that sometimes walking away first just saves you from being vulnerable. Sloane is forced to confront the idea that walking away first isn’t independence; it’s just self-protection dressed up as confidence.
And then it’s Christmas.
With still no word from each other, Sloane and Jackson pass each other in a mall. She runs after him down an escalator. Americans, it must be said, have no concept of standing to the right, which explains a lot. She shouts. There’s a choir. She swears into a microphone. Everyone stops shopping to watch, as if they don’t have errands or free will.
Sloane and Jackson get together, obviously. Despite no one moving out of the way so she can run to him, everybody cheers. Merry Christmas.
The film ends with a montage of Jackson and Sloane visiting Australia (or at least standing in front of a green screen with some nice pictures of the Sydney Opera House and kangaroos inserted afterwards). There’s a trip to Vegas for Sloane’s sister and husband, tattoos for the newlyweds, Farooq and Susan are still making it work despite the age gap, and mum appears to have found herself a nice fella. All wrapped up like it should be.
Verdict: Presented to me as a Christmas film, I was disappointed that the majority of it happens outside of Christmas. Does it even count? Points awarded for the likeability of the main characters and, in particular, Aunt Susan. Points deducted for Mother’s Day counting as a holiday you’d invite a date to, and the idea that shouting apologies in public spaces is romantic.
Rating: 7/10. I did not hate it, but I’m not sure it qualifies for my special, generous Christmas film rating system.
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