A Christmas Year (Part 4)

I’ve taken to watching a lot of bad Christmas movies each year, in addition to the classics I love. With full acknowledgment that I have zero training as a screenwriter and that this presentation is all over the place, I give you my take on a Hallmark-schlock-style, made-for-TV Christmas movie, A Christmas Year.

Note: This is part 4 of 4. Check out the last three weeks’ posts to start from the beginning.

We see a long montage/synopsis of the months to follow, which include Carol working hard at the office, then getting a promotion that means even longer hours. We see Jose comfort Kringle and help him with his homework in Carol’s absence; she gets home after Kringle has already gone to bed. Her teenage daughter wants nothing to do with her, rolling her eyes and going to her own room. The middle child follows her example and does the same in kind-of-cute, kind-of-annoying fashion.

We cut to a scene of Carol talking to the kids. Jose’s there, too. She says admits she’s been too focused on work, which is why she’s taking off the whole last two weeks of the year so she and the kids can go back home to spend the holiday with her folks. Everyone seems cheered at this, except Jose, until Carol tells him that she’d like him to come, too—she’ll pay for his flight and his usual salary, too, to help with the kids. He lights up as well.

They return home and Dad is in rough shape medically, looking much older than when we saw him in previous scenes. He is heartened when Carol, the kids, and Jose come through the door, though, and says now it really feels like Christmas. And you’re here in time for the pageant!

Mom takes Carol aside to let her know Dad has deteriorated a lot. At this point, she only hopes he’ll make it to Christmas.

They all head to church for the pageant where Bernard is there. He’s short on members for the children’s chorus he leads, and conscripts Kringle and the girls, leading them away in over-eager fashion before pausing to say hello to Jose. They share smiles, share an instant connection.

While the kids disappear and Mom starts to lead Dad to a far area of the pews, Derrick finds Carol. He starts to say he’s sorry for making her dance the last time she was there.

Carol:: You have nothing to be sorry about. I should apologize to you for leaving so suddenly, and not saying goodbye. The truth is, I’m sorry I gave up on us. This past summer and all those years ago when I left for college. I’m so sorry.

An announcement from the stage cuts them off. The pageant is about to begin.

The pageant is joyous. Kids and community members on stage performing gleefully, the audience clapping along, laughing, having a good time.

Then the children’s choir takes the bleachers and begins their take on “Silent Night.”

They’re cut off abruptly when the building loses power.

Derrick: Oh no, not again.

Carol: This has happened before?

Derrick: It’s an old church. They lose power sometimes. Never during a pageant, though. This is—

A singular, angelic voice sings out, continuing the song. A parishioner shines the flashlight from their phone and scans the chorus before settling on Kringle, who is the one singing. More parishioners join in, lighting him. Gradually, the whole choir rejoins, but Kringle unequivocally has the solo.

Carol takes Derrick’s hand. He looks at her, fighting back a smile. Her teary eyes are fixed on Kringle.

***

Outside the church, Carol hugs Kringle close and tells him how wonderful he was. Other kids come up to celebrate him, offering high fives that he awkwardly returns.

Derrick leads Carol away by the hand for a moment.

Derrick: I’m not sure what all of this means. But I do know what I want for it to mean.

He fishes the old engagement snow globe from his coat pocket and offers it to her. She closes her hand over the snow globe, over his hand and nods, crying.

Carol: Yes, yes. Oh God, yes.

They kiss.

*** One Year Later…

The camera pans across the mantle at Carol’s childhood home. It hits a photo of Dad, elderly, in a tuxedo, Carol on his arm in a wedding dress.

Voiceover from Carol: Dad hung around another few months. Derrick and I themed our wedding around Christmas to keep the magic of our Christmas year going, and Dad was there to walk we down the aisle.

He passed peacefully in his sleep.

Move off the mantle to the scene in the living room. A Christmas tree looms, tall and bright. There’s a Monopoly board spread across the floor. Carol, Derrick, and the kids play. Then Mom, Jose, and Bernard all come in carrying cookies and hot cocoa. Bernard and Jose settle down on the couch together, arm in arm, the implication clear that they, too, are now a couple, while the kids set to devouring their snacks.

Voiceover from Carol: Christmas may never be the same without Dad. But as long as we have each other, I think we’ll be all right. As long as we have love. That’s the kind of feeling that’ll last us long past December 26.

Pan back to a mantle to a black and white photo of Dad, old and smiling in a Santa Claus hat. The photo is positioned such that it almost looks as though he’s watching over all of them. It looks as though he approves.

Voiceover from Carol: It can last us all year.