Undoubtedly a Christmas classic, Love Actually oozes charm and wit across its intertwining vignettes, ageing like a fine wine but still missing the complimentary cheeseboard.

Rating: 4/5

Traditionally speaking, what makes a film a “Christmas film”? Does the story need to completely revolve around Christmas, such as the Grinch attempting to ruin the beloved holiday? Do the characters need to be of a certain cut, maybe a human boy was raised by elves only to venture back into our world? Or does Christmas simply need to be an excuse for key events to take place, a staff party turning into a hostage situation?

Similar to Home Alone, Richard Curtis’s Love Actually uses the winter festivities as the backdrop to what could have arguably happened equally as well during another romantic holiday (although Valentine’s Day might have something else to say on the matter).

On paper, Love Actually might look a tad gimmicky, yet in reality the idea to follow multiple love stories works well, almost like a highlight reel of multiple couples as the boring bits are skipped over. Each of the nine storylines celebrates (or mourns) different aspects of love: a young boy loses his mother and is figuring out a plan of action to court a girl in his class while a wife begins to discover that her husband might have eyes for his young secretary. Each collection of characters is stereotypical as they meander towards December 25, the constant switch between stories keeping what should have been a boring ballad quite refreshing.

Similar to the same four Christmas songs that are played on loop throughout the last month of the year, Christmas films seem to stand the test of time with maybe just a scratch or two.

In some cases, Love Actually has aged superbly in the 17 years since its release in 2003, such as the open-mindedness of the film. When questioning his son, Sam (Thomas Brodie-Sangster), if he has a crush on someone within his class, Daniel (Liam Neeson) asks, “What does she… he, feel about you?” In a simple moment of self-correction, Daniel is innocently inclusive without being too heavy-handed about the question of sexuality by simply showing an understanding.

Recently elected, down-to-earth Prime Minister David (Hugh Grant) catches the visiting President of the United States (Billy Bob Thornton) harassing his secretary (Martine McCutcheon). Not only is he then openly aggressive towards the President, but also asks for his secretary to be assigned elsewhere knowing that his own personal (yet appropriate) feelings might lead to distractions… or some other unprofessional actions from the pair.

Positioned alongside a happily married husband (Alan Rickman) who is entertaining his young secretary’s (Heike Makatsch) forward invitations, David’s foresight is not only welcome but refreshing as he not only handles the situation with himself in mind, but also taking others into account. If the last decade has taught us anything, it is that men in power have a tendency to abuse their position to those under them, more specifically to women who already struggle in male-dominated industries, giving a simple love story something a little deeper.

Another lovely surprise from this annual viewing was Jamie (Colin Firth) and Aurélia’s (Lúcia Moniz) story of mixed messages. Unable to understand each other thanks to a language barrier, Jamie escapes to France to write a novel with his new housekeeper Aurélia, every evening the pair sharing a car ride as he drives her home. Although they can’t understand a word the other says, they slowly circle in a silent dance culminating in an easily foreseen happy ending. In previous viewings, the fable that is love at first sight has always been the blandest of the collection, yet this year sparked a new fascination within me about the young duo.

Most instant connection-type narratives are given to the younger generations, children generally having ‘relationships’ that might not even last a fortnight, which is why theirs is special. Not only are they starry-eyed from the moment they meet, but after spending a lot of time in close contact they leave each other, which is when the true realisation sinks in. Their connection isn’t just physical but also emotional, each inferring the other’s words through inflection and action, the occasional mime making them giggle like teenagers beating around the bush, unsure of their mutual feelings. 

Love is all you need… Andrew Lincoln and Keira Knightley. Photo: Working Title Films

Something that hasn’t changed in the past two decades is the emotional impact of the film, which there is mostly none. Not all films should or need to linger in the minds of their audience, yet the moment the final montage of reuniting couples ends, so does its presence. Filled with interesting moments as storylines intersect (sometimes at odd angles that can feel forced), Love Actually lacks that bang that keeps other holiday movies in the upper echelons of yearly fascination. That isn’t to say it isn’t replayable. The fact that it is such a light watch keeps it relevant; the familiar moments of despair always quickly replaced by a different uplifting tale.

The ‘cool’ factor is in full effect as humour and wit are at Curtis’s core, certain jokes executed fast and left unexplained without milking anything for too long. Everything feels like Christmas in the film; whether it is Ant & Dec hosting yet another show or the dreaded yearly nativity, everything comes together not just to say Christmas but to embody it. Scored to a plain soundtrack that flings in the occasional sing-along song, Love Actually will always remain amongst the first films to watch as the annual family reunion creeps up. Simple, sweet, and unrealistically comforting, it offers nothing more than a fun two hours… but why would it need to be anything more than that?