As if the run-up to Christmas weren’t stressful enough, the government has compounded our seasonal misery — with long shopping lists and shrinking pay packets — by scheduling a General Election for 12 December. Yes, another one.
The latter half of the 2010s has been defined by global political instability, and in the UK the turbulence has been particularly intense. Brexit has touched virtually every household, inflaming debates and exposing bitter divisions.
The 2016 EU referendum exposed and amplified some of Britain’s worst tendencies: fear, xenophobia and a nostalgic longing for imperial glory that belongs in the past. Family gatherings have been affected too — nothing withers the festive spirit faster than discovering a relative’s indifference to the plight of refugees across the dinner table.
With Christmas 2019 clouded by anxiety and an election taking place in the middle of the season, the contrast between festive values and the political climate is hard to ignore. Many senior Conservative figures proclaim a Christian faith, yet their policies often sit uneasily with the generosity and compassion associated with the Christmas story.
Against a backdrop of austerity, an emboldened religious-right discourse and policies that many see as eroding public services, it’s no surprise that writers at publications such as The Film Magazine find dark humour and solace in reimagining classic Christmas films as political parables. The following five rewrites aim to inject a little levity — and a great deal of satire — into a midwinter of political uncertainty.
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1. A Christmas Carol
In this political retelling of Dickens’ classic, the miser is replaced by the indifferent voter — the person who shrugs and says “politics doesn’t interest me” or “they’re all the same.” On the night before the election, that voter is visited by three ghosts: British Politics Past, Present and Yet to Come.
The Ghost of Politics Past replays the social injustices of the 20th century: mass unemployment, poverty-stricken neighborhoods and the suffering that followed economic collapse. The Ghost of the Present reveals modern hardship: working parents who still depend on food banks, children bearing the psychological weight of climate anxiety, and public services stretched to breaking point.
The Ghost of Politics Yet to Come shows a terrifying future dominated by tax havens and a tiny elite, where workers are treated like units in sprawling fulfilment centres and family life is hollowed out. The shaken voter resolves to change, but the warning is stark: without participation at the ballot box, even a converted conscience cannot prevent policies that deepen inequality and erode the NHS.
2. It’s a Wonderful Life
Since the EU referendum result in June 2016, a sense of national unease has settled over the country. Remainers have endured years of anxiety; steadfast Brexiteers have been consumed by frustration as deadlines slipped and negotiations dragged on; and many voters who once felt detached have found themselves exhausted by the never-ending news cycle.
In this adaptation, a modern-day George Bailey, driven desperate by political chaos and what feels like endless upheaval, wishes the EU had never been formed. An angel shows him an alternate Europe in which the post-war cooperation that helped stabilise the continent never happened. Without collective institutions to foster reconciliation and prosperity, the continent is more fractured, conflict lingers, and life is far harsher.
Confronted with the grim consequences of his wish, George begs for the return of the cooperative bonds that Europe has provided. The lesson is plain: the consequences of political choices can be profound and irreversible. For many voters, the coming months are a painful reminder to consider those consequences carefully.
Recommended for you: It’s A Wonderful Life — a reminder of why our political choices matter
3. A Christmas Story
There’s an endearing quality in a child’s persistent “I want!” at Christmas, but when entitlement carries into adulthood it becomes less charming. This version focuses on a blustering, privileged public figure whose demands echo the tantrums of a spoiled child: loud, opportunistic and single-minded.
Having long cultivated a populist image and shown a knack for dominating headlines, this character’s single Christmas wish is simple: Brexit — done, no matter the terms. He tries cajoling, blusters in Parliament, writes petulant letters and even resorts to punishing colleagues who disagree. Yet without parliamentary support, his theatre of outrage fails to produce the majority he needs.
When the only remaining option is to call an election just before Christmas, the move infuriates voters who feel the season should be spared politics. Still, his determination to see Brexit through — despite warnings about shortages, civil rights implications and damage to cross-border agreements — underscores the high stakes at play and the risks of political brinkmanship.
4. The Nativity
The Nativity is the heart of Christmas for many, a story of humility, hope and shared humanity. The image of a child born in a stable, surrounded by ordinary people offering what little they have, stands in stark contrast to the spectacle and wealth of corporate displays.
But when faith is used to justify exclusionary politics, the message becomes muddied. Rewriting the nativity as a modern parable, the Holy Family’s flight from persecution meets modern barriers: borders closed in the name of protecting privilege, migrants blamed for problems created by those in power, and a failure of compassion when it’s needed most.
In this version, the desperate search for refuge ends in tragedy because systems built to protect the powerful shut out the vulnerable. The outcome is a sobering reminder that when a society forgets empathy, even its oldest stories can become warnings rather than comforts.
5. A Charlie Brown Christmas
Like Charlie Brown, many of us find the season tinged with sadness this year. The lights are up, the carols play, but the political turmoil and social anxiety make it hard to feel joyful.
As writers and readers working in grassroots media, we publish this kind of time-sensitive satire because it matters. The political coverage from certain tabloids is often sensational and driven by other agendas; by contrast, independent voices have no corporate owners or shareholder pressures dictating their stance.
This piece is more than parody — it’s an appeal. I urge everyone in the UK to vote on 12 December and to do so with conscience. A near decade of Conservative government has, in many people’s view, coincided with strained public services, rising child poverty and exhausted frontline workers in education and health.
At a time of year when generosity, compassion and empathy are foregrounded, choosing representatives who protect the vulnerable and restore public services matters profoundly. Please exercise your right to vote.
Please vote.