Merry Christmas Ted Cooper
By Lisa F. Sue
Welcome back, everyone! It’s our favorite time of year again. The anticipation always starts when the PSL returns—because that means Christmas is right around the corner! And true to form, by mid‑October it’s already all Christmas, all the time at Hallmark. Even before the bats have flown off, the witches’ brew has been drunk, and the skeletons have danced their last, we’re already dreaming of snow angels, tree lightings, and over‑decorated cookies. I’ll admit, I look forward to the release of the Hallmark Christmas schedule just to see what’s new each year. But of course, not too new—we’re on record as struggling when they stray too far from the formula. Then again, after so many years, the novelty has worn off a bit dear readers. As excited as I am, it still took me two weeks to finish this movie, and another week and a half before I sat down to write. I’m positive it’s me, and not the movie! Honestly, the main push for the write‑up is just so I can move on to… another Christmas movie. Which that kind of motivation isn’t what it used to be, but it’s still a necessity—because if we don’t write it up, it didn’t happen! And with so many movies blurring together, the strict “one watched, one write‑up” policy is the only way to keep chaos at bay. This year, Hallmark is also experimenting with more reality‑style Christmas shows—Finding Mr. Christmas, Baked with Love—which means fewer new movies than usual. That’s a shame for the Christmas movie industry, which now has to take its offerings to places like Netflix, Roku, and beyond. I’ll admit, I use these movies as an escape from reality—so no pressure, Hallmark: dazzle me, but don’t break the mold and take me away from the pitfalls of reality for 90 minutes!
We open by meeting Ted, a man with notoriously bad luck when
it comes to Christmas. We’re talking grease fires nearly burning his house
down, a possum living in his Christmas tree that attacks him, and even an
illness so rare it was eventually named after him. With a track record like
that, no one would blame Ted for hiding away until New Year’s Eve—assuming his
“curse” is time sensitive. Some investigation may be needed to confirm exactly
when it’s safe for him to emerge from hibernation. But this is a Hallmark
movie, so does Ted hide? Of course not. Despite overwhelming evidence that
Christmas doesn’t like him, Ted remains unabashedly pro‑Christmas. He heads
back to his hometown to promote the Gingerbread Invitational—a baking
competition his sister is organizing to raise funds for a new children’s wing
at the local hospital. Apparently, it’s not just gingerbread houses; bakers are
whipping up all kinds of gingerbread creations. Meanwhile, Ted’s coworkers see
an easy bet and launch a hilarious “Christmas Pool,” wagering on what calamity
will strike next: Ted going to jail, getting poked in the eye in a holiday
mishap, or choking on fruitcake. Ted knows about the pool but remains
undaunted. This, he insists, is the year his Christmas luck finally turns around!
And so the adventure begins— though not well for Ted.
His car won’t start, so he takes a bus back to his small hometown of
Lackawanna. Along the way, his luggage gets swapped with a sorority girl’s.
Instead of trying to reclaim his own belongings, Ted simply starts wearing
hers. Sure, it’s played for laughs—but honestly, who keeps someone else’s
luggage? Isn’t your own stuff inherently more valuable, simply because it’s
yours? Ted’s misfortunes continue with his first hospital trip after falling
off a ladder while hanging Christmas lights. There, we meet the lovely Hope,
who has moved back home to care for her sick father and now works as a doctor
at the local hospital. Not long after, while helping his former teacher pick
out a Christmas tree, Ted gets poked in the eye—hospital visit #2 (both visits I
think are in the same day). These mishaps may not be great for Ted, but they do
give his coworkers a couple of wins in the infamous Christmas Pool! Things
start looking up when Ted runs into Hope in town, and they grab burgers
together. But disaster is never far away: he locks the keys inside his sister’s
car. The police assume he’s breaking in when they catch him prying open the car
window, and Ted gets hauled off to jail—another score for the Christmas Pool!
His sister doesn’t press charges, of course, but she’s less than thrilled to
show up at the jail in the middle of the night, in her pajamas no less. At this
point, you can’t help but think Ted should just go into lockdown until the
fates finally decide to give him a break.
But because Ted doesn’t take advice from homebodies like me,
he’s out there with his walking group, voluntarily heading back to the hospital
for a tour of the new children’s wing with Hope. During the visit, a deaf child
in a cast offers them a gingerbread cookie—who could turn that down? Not Ted
and Hope! Ted happily eats the cookie, only to discover the little girl’s
secret ingredient is… peanut butter. Of course, Ted is allergic. He makes a
fair point: who puts peanut butter in gingerbread cookies? As a peanut butter
fan myself, I’d argue PB makes most cookies better—unless, of course, it sends
you into anaphylaxis like Ted. At least he’s already at the hospital! At this
rate, he’s their most valuable Christmas customer, possibly MVC of all time. The
upside is that protocol requires Ted to be kept under close observation, which
leads to him and Hope putting up Christmas decorations at her home. Glad to
report zero electrocutions or concussions during this tree‑trimming session
(aside from Ted’s pre‑existing injuries). Next up is the costume event hosted
by his sister Kate, who insists Ted invite Hope. Cue the hilarious door‑cam
footage of Ted’s awkward, embarrassing voicemails, which force Kate to step in
and extend the invitation herself. She even tells Hope to come early. And
honestly, why should Halloween have all the fun? Christmas costume parties
should absolutely be a thing. Have they been done before in these Christmas
movies and I just don’t recall? (And no, a Christmas ball with fancy dress and
masquerade masks doesn’t count.) Imagine stopping for gas while dressed in full
Christmas snowman costume—that’s commitment. Surprisingly, the party goes off
without incident for Ted—no hospital visits is a win. Could his luck finally be
turning around? He’s about to find out, as Ted and Hope head out on a proper
date.
Ted chooses an escape room for their date, and he and Hope
blaze through the clues in record time. But true to form, disaster strikes
again—this time pulling Hope into the crosshairs. The escape room attendant
falls asleep, essentially trapping them in the final room. Ted points out that
at least they’re stuck with a sleigh, so it’s not the most uncomfortable place
to be. Hope counters that, comfortable or not, she’d still rather not be locked
in. Still, the situation gives them a chance to get real about Ted’s tendency
to be a people pleaser. They eventually leave the next morning, only for Ted to
hit another obstacle: he forgets his phone in a rideshare car. When a random
girl answers Ted’s phone, Hope assumes Ted is seeing someone else. It doesn’t
seem in Ted’s character, but that initial mis communication sparks her concern
that he never seems to get upset about anything (he’s wondering if she’s upset
that he isn’t upset, she clarifies). She runs through examples—the mayo on his
burger he explicitly asked to not be there, eating the peanut butter cookie
he’s allergic to, even turning down a bigger TV job offer in Buffalo for co
workers who are betting against him—all moments where Ted just let things slide
to make someone else happy. Hope struggles to understand why he’s willing to
give up what he wants. It’s a fair question, but Ted doesn’t see it as burying
his head in the sand when life gets tough. Instead, it becomes a learning
moment for him to grow up and make the big grand gesture. He accepts the
Buffalo job and kisses Hope on air—making one coworker very rich thanks to the
Christmas Pool, though at the expense of the one running the pool. And, in true
holiday fashion, the state’s largest gingerbread person collapses. So there we
have it folks: Ted’s Christmas luck finally seems to have turned! And maybe the
lesson for all of us is not to be so afraid, to take the big leap, and to see
what new possibilities lie on the other side.
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