This article was written exclusively for The Film Magazine by thecineblog’s Sophie Butcher.
Last Christmas (2019)
Director: Paul Feig
Screenwriters: Emma Thompson, Greg Wise, Bryony Kimmings
Starring: Emilia Clarke, Henry Golding, Emma Thompson, Michelle Yeoh
Last Christmas opens with Kate (Emilia Clarke) literally dragging a battered suitcase behind her through the streets of London. It’s an unsubtle but effective visual metaphor for the emotional baggage she carries—bouncing over cobbles as she moves between one-night stands, a friend’s spare room and, eventually, her family home. Kate’s life is frayed: she drinks too much, sabotages auditions and works as an elf in a year-round Christmas shop, all while trying to bury her past.
Kate—whose full name, Katerina, hints at a cultural background she prefers to ignore—lives in a haze until she notices Tom (Henry Golding) outside her shop, staring at the sky. Their awkward friendship develops into a tentative romance as Tom gently nudges Kate toward better choices: looking after herself, softening her edges with others, and rediscovering joy in small moments. These moments are underscored by George Michael and Wham! songs, which the film uses as both soundtrack and emotional shorthand.
Directed by Paul Feig, known for his work on broad comedies like Bridesmaids and Spy, and conceived by Emma Thompson, Last Christmas has a strong pedigree. Yet the final film rarely achieves the tonal balance it aims for. Feig’s energetic pacing and comedic timing show up in bright flashes—particularly in a few well-executed flashbacks—but much of the script feels overworked. The dialogue leans heavily on exposition, which drains scenes of authenticity and makes conversations sound manufactured rather than lived-in.
Clarke and Golding bring considerable charm and chemistry, and their performances are often the film’s brightest assets. Small supporting moments and celebrity cameos provide pleasant surprises and help the film move along when the script falters. Emma Thompson, playing Kate’s mother Petra, gives a deliberately broad performance that sometimes slips into caricature. The decision to make Kate’s family migrants from the former Yugoslavia is presented awkwardly; the film briefly touches on identity and displacement but ultimately treats the detail more like a topical note than a developed theme, occasionally veering into clumsy political references.
One major drawback is how the film is marketed: the trailer reveals a significant twist in advance. If you’ve seen the trailer, much of the intended emotional payoff evaporates, and when the twist is finally shown, it lands with a whimper rather than a gut punch. That marketing misstep undermines the film’s ability to surprise and reduces audience investment in the arc.
There are moments of genuine warmth—scenes that capture London at Christmastime, an effective use of seasonal iconography, and a few heartfelt character beats. The soundtrack, anchored by George Michael, lends nostalgic weight, but the movie does not fully integrate the music into its emotional core the way some music-driven films do. Where a film like Netflix’s Dumplin’ weaves a musical icon’s spirit into its story, Last Christmas often feels like it borrows a soundtrack rather than builds its heart around it.
Visually, the film is glossy and festive: fairy lights, decorated shop windows and a memorable elf costume that nods to classic holiday comedy. Yet despite the seasonal sheen, the film struggles to claim a place among contemporary holiday favorites. It’s pleasant enough for casual viewing—background entertainment while wrapping presents or spending time with family—but it rarely demands a theater visit or earns repeat viewings.
Ultimately, Kate sheds her suitcase by the film’s end, symbolizing personal growth and the possibility of healing. If only the movie itself had shed some of its excess exposition and sharpened its emotional focus, it might have become a fresh holiday classic. As it stands, Last Christmas is a well-meaning seasonal romance with notable performances but uneven execution. It’s best enjoyed with modest expectations and a tolerance for a story that flirts with depth without always delivering it.
9/24