You’ll need waking up if you go-go

Last Christmas Cert: 12A 1hr 43mins ★★

On paper, at least, Last Christmas seemed to have so much going for it – a screenplay co-written by the clever, funny, not-to-mention double-Oscarwinning Emma Thompson; direction from the current king of film comedy, Paul Feig, of Bridesmaids and The Heat fame; and, of course, the tuneful delights of the late, great George Michael.

Well, all I can say is that all that talent doesn’t quite come together, as they all, no doubt, imagined and hoped. It’s not quite as bad as advance word has suggested – particularly if you can park your brain in festive neutral, ignore all the films it will remind you of, and are a big fan of Emilia Clarke – but Bridget Jones this most definitely is not.

Most of its problems come at the beginning, when our willingness to embrace the production is hampered by a lack of likeable characters, the laboured complexities of the plot, and by the sudden realisation that one of the supporting characters in particular appears to have been lifted so entirely from Fleabag that Phoebe Waller-Bridge could probably sue.

Clarke, still best remembered as the ‘mother of dragons’ from Game Of Thrones rather than for her contribution to tear-jerkers such as Me Before You, plays Kate, a young Londoner leading a rickety life of heavy drinking, one-night stands and unsuccessful auditions. For although she works for a Christmas-themed shop in Covent Garden by day, what Kate dreams of is a career in musical theatre.

Ah, you’re beginning to see where Michael’s music might come in… or rather, you would be if it wasn’t already playing incessantly and rather unimaginatively in the film’s background. At one point, a bleary-eyed Kate really does wake up to Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go.

The brusque, sardonic and distinctly self-centred Kate, however, is not quite the diminutive English rose she appears. ‘Iz not name,’ complains her mother, improbably played by Thompson herself: ‘Katarina iz name.’ Yes, it turns out Kate’s entire family are from the former Yugoslavia, an unlikely plot device apparently inserted so that several anti-Brexit moments can be included, pleas for liberal tolerance inserted, and Thompson can show off her funny accents.

In a production notable for its political correctness, it’s perhaps