’Tis the season to be jolly (if you’re Kurt Russell!)
FIRSTLY, apologies for my early Christmas spirit. It won’t last. But the Christmas film market is as crowded as a Norwegian pine forest in late November. After you get past Home Alone, Nativity, The Muppet Christmas Carol – and we can even include The Grinch if you’re desperate – you’ve still got the films we only watch at Christmas such as The Sound Of Music, Love Actually and It’s A Wonderful Life. Oh, and The Guns Of Navarone, which is my personal favourite for driving away any lingering Christmas spirit from the living room on Boxing Day.
And now we have Netflix entering the fray with a big shiny bauble called The Christmas Chronicles. It stars Hollywood’s Kurt Russell, who is one of the trimmest Santa Clauses to appear on TV. And the big, whitish, beard is apparently his own.
That’s his Christmas appearances sorted for the next 10 years; he will be turning on Christmas lights all the way down Hollywood Boulevard. No wonder he is so smiley.
But he has every reason to be. The Christmas Chronicles is a five-star TV movie with sophisticated special effects, rounded characters and fast-paced storytelling.
It is also put together by Harry Potter director Chris Columbus who sprinkles his own magic dust across millions of rooftops in this gripping, sometimes sad tale (if you’re a parent, I defy you not to wipe away a tear in the final five minutes).
But before we get to that, in this rollicking tale Rudolph and his deer friends become separated from their driver Santa and all the presents after the sleigh is hijacked by two pesky children; Kate, 11, and Teddy Pierce, 16. The latter is a bit wayward since the death of their father and his new nightly pastime is borrowing other peoples’ cars.
Kurt Russell is a grounded, modern, up-to-the-minute Santa Claus. “I don’t go, ‘Ho ho ho’. It’s a myth. Fake news!” he bellows. A political Father Christmas? Why not? He’s one of the few people who will give Theresa May a gift this year. Russell also says things like: “Does my butt look big in this?” Well, if you’re asking... Santa may have been separated from his team but he is determined that “Christmas simply must endure” even though he’s been left with nothing but a meter that measures the everdecreasing Christmas spirit. Bah humbug!
He also bombs badly in the world’s most subdued Irish pub when he addresses everyone by name. But then, when was the last time you were introduced to Santa Claus?
There are car chases, children riding reindeer and a blues gig in a Chicago police station complete with Santa on vocals.
It’s a Christmas cracker and well worth the bother of setting up a month’s trial on Netflix – which is free! My generosity now ends.
Lady Bountiful seems to be in charge of ITV for the latest series of I’m A Celebrity... Get Me Out Of Here! (Sunday). She has handed out hundreds of thousands of pounds to draw in big names (to a certain generation) such as Noel Edmonds – and Harry Redknapp, who told the show within moments of appearing on our screens that he had never seen it.
Discussing whether he should watch the last series on ITV Hub or similar, he said: “Someone said that, but the only catch-up I know comes from a bottle.” It’s the way he tells ’em.
His ignorance of the show didn’t matter though. Indeed, it seemed to work in his favour because he appeared super-relaxed and starting telling hilarious stories: about running over his wife; trashing the flower bed with a jet washer; failing to recognise Prince Harry in a physiotherapist’s in Harley Street and failing to recognise Princess Beatrice when she was sitting opposite him.
He won’t be alone there. But he really won over the audience – and fellow jungle buddies – with his offer to empty the loos because he has no sense of smell.
The hidden depths of Harry Redknapp. He reminds me of former king of the jungle Phil Tufnell; another contestant with no side to him, just a natural raconteur with a ready wit.
Crown Harry now.
As for Holly Willoughby... bring back Ant McPartlin. All is forgiven (except that car crash). You are missed. I thought I would never say it but Love Island was funnier than
I’m A Celebrity... this year.
FINALLY, My Brilliant Friend (Sky Atlantic, Monday) is a surprising hit. Set in Naples in the 1950s, it is one of the most powerful and evocative dramas of the year and you have no idea where the story is going.
It is an adaptation of an Elena Ferrante novel that centres on two little girls who meet in primary school, one of whom is a prodigy.
Almost 9,000 children were auditioned for the roles but the exhaustive search was worth it: they’re exceptionally good. Most of the time your heart is in your mouth as you expect one of them to be injured or even killed in those inhospitable, barren apartment blocks.
They also house a mafia boss called Don Achilles who appears to have stolen their little dolls. At the end of the episode, they stand trembling outside his apartment. Don’t worry, girls. He’ll be a pushover.