So, hey, remember when I mentioned I took down A Christmas Prince: The Royal Baby with my buddy and his wife? (Awesome people, by the way, deserve a lot of credit for dealing with my dumb ass as much as they have over the years, lemme tell ya!) Well, I thought it would be fun/funny (whichever came first) to cap off the night of A Christmas Prince with what I thought was the only sensible chaser: A Christmas Princess.
I mean, how could I go wrong with that title matching, right? I know I didn’t know what was awaiting us behind that title, but it had to go well with both A Christmas Prince 3 and plenty of booze, right? I mean, who am I expecting to answer these questions? You? Yinz? No offense, but yinz don’t even know. So lemme break it down for yinz. (Disclaimer: I don’t nor have I ever lived in or even near Pittsburgh or its surrounding environs. I have appropriated “yinz” to my liking. I apologize to those who have been offended by my thoughtless actions. I will, however, continue to do so, ’cause I just don’t care enough. Sorrynotsorry. #DidIMissaHashtagThere?)
The plot, as understandable as it is for you to think otherwise, is not about a regular dude meeting up with some sort of princess by mere chance. Why would you think that? Just because the title takes advantage of that very trope, essentially name-dropping the distaff film I just described, one you may know and love (?) as A Christmas Prince? Shit, son/daughter (I wanna make “Shit, daughter!” a thing, so help me out and use it, eh?), you must be slow.
Indeed, the plot follows basically the same beats as A Christmas Prince: A lowly caterer runs into a handsome, wealthy prince – as you do – and they fall in love as we progress across the runtime. It’s a blatant knock-off of the Christmas Prince and Prince & Me formula that it feels almost lazy to even mention the resemblance. In fact, if you’ve seen A Christmas Prince, just imagine that the eponymous royal is decidedly more handsome (according to to my unofficial, one-woman polling, actually registered on the Sexy-Guy-o-Meter) and charming than Prince Richard of Aldovia, but leave just about everything else the same. Well, the same and off to the side a bit.
See, what drew me to this film initially wasn’t just the title, but the combination of the title and director Fred Olen Ray For the uninitiated, Ray is one of those old hands (at least by today’s standards) who’s somehow made it out of the ’80s relatively intact. By that I don’t mean he’s a highly respected and successful filmmaker in the vein of Scorsese or even Lucas or Coppola (hey, they’re still putting out content!), but that he’s found a way to keep his chosen profession and keep chugging along at it. Following some actioners and B-flicks and whatnot like Attack of the 60 Foot Centerfold and Demented Death Farm Massacre, Ray found his way into softcore porn. Being the guy I am, I can’t fault him for this, especially considering how much enjoyment I’ve gotten from his films of this ilk. Alongside the skin flicks, he’s done some straight-to-video schlock, whatever will pay the bills, but lately he’s been dabbling in the made-for-TV X-Mas market, a rather lucrative niche to say the least. I mean, one of my upcoming posts will be covering a film wherein a woman bangs her snowman, so you can imagine how much demand there exists for films in this vein. Think David DeCouteau, just with less apparent bitterness and ever-so-slightly more fucks being given.
And Ray doesn’t fully disappoint here. His trademark cheapness and speed are on full display, with a nearly vacant city, a business I can’t fathom surviving in the real world, somehow duller visuals than the usual sort of fare this film is piggybacking off of, and some heinously lazy acting. Wait, did I only label the acting as lazy? Allow me to add to that list the writing and directing as well. There we go, that oughta fill the list out. Everything plays exactly as you’d expect it to, nothing comes close to standing out as anything approximating “good”, and the overly-convenient plotting ensures that the runtime at least courses along at a quick-enough pace that things, in spite of their inherent mediocrity, somehow never overstay their welcome. It’s pretty much exactly what it says on the tin: a creatively-bankrupt retread of an established success with none of that film’s charms or strengths. This is blatant, even for made-for-TV X-Mas fare.
If you’re extremely hard-up for X-Mas-related content, then feel free to give A Christmas Princess a go. Also, if you’re a fan of schlock directors like I am, you could do worse in your endeavors than this film. Otherwise, don’t bother, it ain’t worth your time.
Shit, was this review lazy enough to coincide with this film’s lack of shit-giving? Hm. I can only hope. Lemme know, will yinz?
Allusions of Grandeur 