These Christmas romances are normally a go-to for me. They are formulaic, yes, but feature a charming and pretty woman who goes home for Christmas and in the midst of helping her parents, finds her dream job and dream man. Good so far. Until you realise that the female lead simply cannot act, that her 'charming' attempts to get out of a well-deserved speeding ticket make her look like a spoilt, petulant teenager, and nor can her 'parents'. The direction had them all sitting at a table featuring (for some reason) two bananas, a scene so dreadfully unconvincing that one found the fruit very interesting to look at! The male lead can, at least, act, but it's a small mercy given the rest of the film. Right, on that note, there's some paint I need to watch drying to wipe away the memory of this experience.