Christmas in the Smokies
I don’t know how familiar you are with farms and farmers, but it doesn’t take much to imagine that they work quite hard and their vehicles used for every day work don’t look as though they came straight out of the showroom. You might also make the assumption that a Christmas film might show some consistency in terms of leaf cover, so you don’t expect to see bare trees moving in the wind and then trees full of leaves in late December. Oh yes the farm is in trouble they haven’t paid their bills and the bank wants it’s money back, fair enough you might say, but for the farmers to then run a charity, yes charity, event to raise the money to pay off their business failure stretches the bounds of credulity. I don’t know how you define a crowd, but I think it amounts to more than twenty people at the big concert that is supposed to save the day, since good things happen at Christmas.
Newly added to the Christmas film roster on Sky Premiere this year is “Christmas in the Smokies”.
I am no grouch when it comes to heart plucking sentimental films but this film didn’t touch anything except my funny bone. It is simply awful. I do mean awful. There is no space here for the adjectives I could add to describe its crassness. Had it been a made for TV movie it still wouldn’t pass muster.
I am no grouch when it comes to heart plucking sentimental films but this film didn’t touch anything except my funny bone. It is simply awful. I do mean awful. There is no space here for the adjectives I could add to describe its crassness. Had it been a made for TV movie it still wouldn’t pass muster.
Yet I watched it to the end which is more than I can do with some other films like the appalling Frankie and Alice starring Halle Berry. That’s why I am going to agree with the Radio Times award of two stars. It’s simple, simplistic pap that washes over you leaving a pleasant feeling.
But I can’t let this go, the Radio Station tells us it is below freezing yet the family manage to sit out on the porch in just a shirt and jeans. Really?
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