Oh. What. Fun. (now streaming on Amazon Prime Video) is for all the put-upon moms out there who do all the work during Christmas. They bake cinnamon rolls, wrap presents, light candles, deck the halls, haul the decks, glaze the ham, arrange cookies just so in little tins, take out the trash, feed the ceremonial holiday chupacabra, lubricate the hydraulics on the cement mixer – whatever the tradition calls for, they do it. They all live in gigantic houses and look like Michelle Pfeiffer, too, with her hair in a loose side braid and a $229 Williams Sonoma apron around her waist. But this particular Xmas-movie mom has had enough of being underappreciated, and that’s why there’s a record-scratch FZWOOP sound about 80 seconds in. (You’ve been warned.) So: is Oh. What Fun. any actual fun? Well. About that. 

The Gist: Claire Clauster (Pfeiffer) has an ax to grind, and we can almost hear blade hitting stone as she narrates about how every Christmas movie is about men, men, men. In reality, it’s the women who are “the true heroes of the holidays,” she says. They do all the work while everyone else sips cocoa on the couch and steps on all the best lines in Christmas Vacation. I’d feel a little more sympathetic for Claire if she didn’t come right out and admit that she starts planning for Christmas on Jan. 1, which is rather OTT, right? But hahaha, this movie isn’t necessarily about how it might be OK if she’d just elect to do one or two less things every Christmas. I mean, maybe she’s doing some of this to herself, which is what the movie is sorta accidentally about sometimes? I mean, it’s not a big deal if the fam dropped the chupacabra ceremony from the Xmas tradition agenda – it’s always so long, drawn-out and messy, what with all the blood, you know? – so Mom can put her feet up for a stretch. She always insists on polishing the extra-fancy tridents first, and badger livers are so expensive now, what with the tariffs. Maybe we should just skip it this year. I’m sure Jesus won’t mind.

Wait, are we still talking about the FZWOOP movie? Yes of course! Claire is an empty-nester alongside hubby Nick (Denis Leary). While she does All The Things, he sits in the garage, putting together a dollhouse that seems to require an engineering degree he clearly doesn’t possess. It’s a gift for their twin grandkids, soon to visit with their mother, Channing (Felicity Jones), Claire and Nick’s oldest offspring, a.k.a. the responsible one, and her goofy hubby Doug (Jason Schwartzman). The middle kid is Taylor (Chloe Grace Moretz), who shows up every year with a different girlfriend, this time, Donna (Devery Jacobs), introduced as DJ Sweatpants, which is a Gen Z joke! Kids these days! They like bad music and wear sloppy clothes! Please laugh! The youngest is Sammy (Dominic Sessa, depressingly far from new holiday classic The Holdovers), a slacker-type fresh off a breakup with his girlfriend (Maude Apatow). Across the street lives Claire’s archrival in Xmas decor and celebration perfection, Jeanne (Joan Chen), whose daughter Lizzie (Havana Rose Liu) might have just thrown a lingering glance in Sammy’s general direction.

Like any good suburban White lady living in an adorable, spaciously sprawling home, and whose surely considerable income is never even hinted at (maybe she and Nick are retired?), Claire worships an Oprah-Martha-style morning talk show host that airs at a time accessible only to people who don’t work, Zazzy Tims (Eva Longoria), and good Christ on a cracker, there’s a ton of big names in this movie, isn’t there? I think that means the movie doesn’t suck 99 fruitcakes! All Claire wants is to enter a Zazzy-sponsored contest for the Best Christmas Mom Ever, but everyone in the family is just too self-involved to nominate her despite the fact that she does EVERYTHING for EVERYBODY ELSE. E.g., get tickets for the whole family to see a holiday dance extravaganza, and then gets left behind, and nobody notices until after the show starts. Whoops. And so, nearly halfway into the movie, the premise finally kicks in, and she snaps. By the way, the chupacabra thing is just a joke. Promise! I swear to god and the Holiest of Marys, and as always, hail St. Nick!

What Movies Will It Remind You Of? Oh. What. Fun. really wants to be a cross between home-for-the-holidays stuff like The Family Stone and looser, sillier flicks like classic Christmas Vacation or unclassic Christmas with the Kranks, with a nod to Home Alone. 

Performance Worth Watching: Watching Pfeiffer try to corral her hastily sketched character, who careens wildly between relatably sweet and borderline wacko, might be unintentionally funny if it wasn’t at the expense of a beloved longtime actor who’s won us over a dozen-plus times during her Hollywood career.

Memorable Dialogue: A fellow underappreciated mom commiserates with Claire: “My stocking looks like a limp penis. No love. It just hangs there.” 

A Holiday Tradition: Baked goods, prezzies, ugly sweaters, betinseled greenery, carols, stockings on fireplaces, lawn inflatables, deep-seated familial resentment boiling over into toxicity, Elf on a Shelf horrors – Christmas is fully intact here.

Does The Title Make Any Sense? It’s sarcasm, ya freakin’ moron. Especially when you take into account how much fun you’ll have while watching it.  

Our Take: Per Claire, the only three words a mom wants to hear at Christmastime are… “Can I help?” That’s the joke! That’s also the theme of Oh. What. Fun., the punctuation asserting the cynical snark silently simmering beneath all the overly forced, peppermint bark-fueled mirth, here exaggerated so it makes a bigger noise when the protagonist makes it all go kablooey. One can really sense Pfeiffer struggling to center her character, and filmmaker Michael Showalter (Wet Hot American Summer, The Big Sick) shows little interest in helping out his protagonist with tighter writing or specific direction, thus adding a layer of irony to this dumbass movie. Are we supposed to sympathize with her, or believe she’s gotten a bit too kooky about Christmas? Moms get no respect from their families, neighbors or film directors, it seems.

The movie proceeds with the consistently nagging sense that none of the star-riddled cast deserves a shoddy screenplay content to be a decoupage of cliches cribbed from too many of the movies it directly references (A Charlie Brown Christmas, A Christmas Story and several others get snippets of screentime here, a pinheaded miscalculation that inevitably leads to Oh. What. Fun. being the object of unfavorable comparisons). Showalter just doesn’t seem to care that much, his cast flailing for emotional handholds – especially Jones, who seems overwhelmed with the task of keeping this circus of nonsense grounded – and executing a tonally and thematically jumbled script, which might not be as objectionable if the jokes were funnier and the characters less canned. 

One set piece finds Claire shoplifting from a notable mall store that gets unofficial promotional consideration; another features Sessa’s pointedly dreary performance of ‘The 12 Days of Christmas.’ There’s a level of desperation to the comedy here that’s more depressing than joyful. Typically funny folks like Moretz and Schwartzman do little more than fart around, Danielle Brooks drops in for a cameo that no-so-subtly extolls the virtues of being a delivery driver (please note which streaming service is premiering this movie), and Chen’s character is one joke begging to be something more than a Stepfordish stereotype. Oh. What. Fun. is a dried-out festive cheese log of a movie and any attempt to appreciate its sad stabs at humor is to bust your cracker in it every stinking time. Throw it out in the yard for chupacabra bait.

Our Call: Oh. What. Fun. jingle smells. SKIP IT.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year! (At least, that’s what Andy Williams promised.) The holidays are a time to celebrate with family, friends, food, and, let’s not forget, fun things to watch. Whether you’re huddled up with the whole family in your living room or cozying up under the covers with your tablet, let Decider be your guide to all things festive this holiday season.

John Serba is a freelance film critic from Grand Rapids, Michigan. Werner Herzog hugged him once.

Another week, another pop star angry that their song was used without their permission in an Immigration and Customs Enforcement recruitment ad.

Singer Sabrina Carpenter’s song “Juno” appeared as the soundtrack for a Department of Homeland Security promotional video posted on the official X account of the White House. It featured a montage of clips appearing to show ICE officers chasing down, tackling and handcuffing people in what looks to be the city of Chicago. The lyrics — “Wanna try out some freaky positions? Have you ever tried this one?” — from the song play atop the footage.

“[T]his video is evil and disgusting,” Carpenter posted on Tuesday. “Do not ever involve me or my music to benefit your inhumane agenda.”

Too late, since the DHS had already done it without her knowledge.

Using the work of pop music performers minus their consent is the only way the White House can score their ICE campaign with music clips that actually appeal to people younger than 50.

The list of luminaries who have condemned the agency’s actions or filed legal copyright removal requests (Jay-Z had his song “Public Service Announcement” struck from a DHS social media post) reads like a sold-out Coachella lineup: Jay-Z, Olivia Rodrigo, MGMT, Zach Bryan, The Cure, Usher, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. It also includes the estates and companies that represent Tom Petty’s “I Won’t Back Down,” Pokémon’s original theme song “Gotta Catch ’Em All” and the “Wicked” soundtrack’s “Defying Gravity” as sung by Cynthia Erivo.

As for the catalog of bona fide stars and meme-made celebs who have expressed gratitude for hearing their work in an ICE detainment video? There is no such list.

From the Stones to Springsteen to Swift, GOP campaigns, rallies and election-year ads have featured the music of performers who didn’t want their songs associated with Reagan’s trickle-down economics, either Bush administration’s Gulf war, or Trump’s scorched-earth policies. There wasn’t, and still isn’t, a wealth of popular artists who openly embrace right-wing ideals. Kid Rock and Lee Greenwood, the latter of whom teamed up with Trump to release a “God Bless the USA” bible, can’t do it all.

The right’s strategy has been to use a song once, knowing that a copyright infringement complaint will likely follow, then avoid further legal action by moving on to another artist’s work. Call it poach and run.

But the DHS, like Trump’s White House, has added another element to its grift by capitalizing on the complaints that follow its theft of popular songs.

Carpenter’s response to her song being used without her consent was met with a trolling retort from the DHS. The department weaponized the singer’s own lyrics against her to capitalize on the negative attention (a hallmark of MAGA’s winning strategy in gaming the attention economy).

“Here’s a Short n’ Sweet message for Sabrina Carpenter: we won’t apologize for deporting dangerous criminal illegal murderers, rapists, and pedophiles from our country. Anyone who would defend these sick monsters must be stupid, or is it slow?” said White House spokesperson Abigail Jackson in a statement, referencing Carpenter’s recent single “Manchild” and the title of her 2024 album, “Short n’ Sweet.”

Crazy idea: The administration might also catch pedophiles and rapists by releasing unredacted copies of the Epstein files. But how to turn that ugliness into a “fun” video with a quippy caption?

The DHS was forced to remove MGMT’s “Little Dark Age” from an ICE recruitment ad after the band issued a takedown request. The video, posted in October, showed agents arresting protesters outside an ICE facility in Portland, Ore. It was captioned: “End of the Dark Age, beginning of the Golden Age.”

The White House also used British singer Jess Glynne’s 2015 single “Hold My Hand,” a song that recently made a comeback in a viral Jet2 holiday ad, to promote its deportation operation over the summer. The DHS posted the song clip to its official social media channels, along with the caption: “When ICE books you a one-way Jet2 holiday to deportation. Nothing beats it!”

Glynne and the airline company condemned the ad. But by then, the DHS was on to the next song by an artist who wanted nothing to do with them.

It’s been a surprisingly solid start for the Netflix-Mas Movies of 2025! So far, we’ve reviewed the 3 big Christmas releases – Alicia Silverstone in A Merry Little Ex-Mas, Minka Kelly in Champagne Problems, & Olivia Holt in Jingle Bell Heist – with positive results above expectations. Each week, the movies have been better than the last, with Jingle Bell Heist currently holding our #1 spot for the holiday season. With only one film left (I don’t think Kate Winslet’s Goodbye June really belongs in this category), can this week’s entry grab the top spot?

From producer Howard Braunstein & Netflix Studios, My Secret Santa is the latest holiday romantic comedy from director Mike Rohl, the filmmaker behind all 3 Princess Switch movies for the streamer over the last decade. The film is co-written by Falling For Christmas scribe Ron Oliver & screenwriter of several TV/Streaming holiday movies Carley Smale (Snowed-Inn Christmas, Yes Chef Christmas). 

Now, I’ve watched my fair share of Netflix holiday films over the past several years since I started with The Christmas Chronicles in 2018. Some with big stars that are good (Jingle Jangle, The first Christmas Chronicles), some with big stars that aren’t so good (Best. Christmas. Ever! is an abomination), and every range of star & quality in-between. But I don’t think I’ve watched anything truly close to My Secret Santa.

The world the film lives in seems unlike anything I’ve encountered in real life. A “Mad Libs” or word salad of things that sound rom-com or Christmas-related, but don’t entirely sound like the way they would in our reality. 

My Secret Santa. (L to R) Alexandra Breckenridge as Taylor and Ryan Eggold as Matthew in My Secret Santa. Cr. Diyah Pera/Netflix ©2025

A single mother, Taylor Jacobsen (Virgin River star Alexandra Breckenridge), loses her job as a Christmas cookie factory worker of some variety due to downsizing from society’s loss of interest in store-bought holiday cookies. She is immediately behind in her rent and can’t afford the supposedly prestigious snowboarding academy that her daughter got into without her knowledge. While looking for jobs, she realizes that she can get 50% off tuition if she works at the ski hotel/resort at which the snowboarding academy will teach her daughter. Once there, she finds out that the only open position at the ski hotel/resort is that of a Santa Claus who magically gets paid 2k a week if memory serves. Naturally, she turns to her brother, a costume creator/makeup artist, to create a convincing Santa look & suit to land her the job she so desperately needs. Sounds reasonable, right? No? I agree, but let’s continue.

After she lands the job under an absurd fake name and her REAL SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER, she enrolls her daughter into the academy and everything is just fine, paid up, and rolling right along (don’t think at all about how the job got her 50% off when she’s under an assumed name that isn’t known to be a relative of her daughter at all … DON’T DO IT!). But there is one more catch: she meets an attractive man named Matthew (“New Amsterdam” star Ryan Eggold) in a record shop who knows her former band and recognizes her as the lead singer; he wants to go on a date with her and pursues her over many attempts, but there’s an issue – he’s the son of the ski hotel/resort owner and her new boss! Taylor must figure out how she can have it all and make it to Christmas without anyone being the wiser. 

Now, setting aside the largely preposterous and logically wrongfooted framework of the first 30-40 minutes AND the Santa voice that Taylor uses that can only be described as Amanda Bynes in She’s The Man level of bad (a movie Alexandra Breckenridge is in btw) AND the miscasting of Eggold if he’s supposed to be a rich guy screw-up on a tabloid level, the movie does switch to a more interesting, heartfelt level as the story progresses. After Taylor as Santa almost gets fired for poor performance and has a heart-to-heart with her daughter to find out what she really wants for Christmas, she comes around to being an almost therapeutic version of Santa with kids and adults finding comfort in letting young kids express their true feelings at a vulnerable time of year. Taylor, as Santa, also finds time to dig deep on the emotional state of her daughter’s bully and give a spiritual lift to the community as a whole, even when they find out the truth. 

The creators also try their best attempt at recreating the magic of the restaurant scene at the end of Mrs. Doubtfire, which, as a massive fan of that film, I felt mixed emotions; an homage of a classic with a reasonably funny shot of the painted toenails of a woman and Santa boots as the sounds of thrusting come from a Men’s room bathroom will probably work for most people, but I may be too close to it to verify. 

My Secret Santa. (L to R) Ryan Eggold as Matthew and Alexandra Breckenridge as Santa Claus in My Secret Santa. Cr. Diyah Pera/Netflix ©2025

All in all, you can tell that fun was had making this film; maybe not on the days when Breckenridge has to be in prosthetic makeup for a few hours, but definitely while creating some of the wildly absurd things that occur in the film. The script is the letdown here, as it feels more like an AI fever dream than any fault of its lead actors. My gift to everyone involved will be my lack of commentary on the “musical performances” in the movie or the liberal use of “punk rock”. Merry Christmas to all involved. 

Maybe I’m not used to the “of course it’s insane, it’s a Christmas movie” level of holiday film or maybe I like a semblance of realism in a non-fantastical version of a Christmas story, but after 3 straight quality Netflix Christmas films, unfortunately My Secret Santa should have stayed a secret, long buried where put the ark of the Covenant perhaps. This one didn’t work for me, which of course means it will be as big as Hot Frosty or any other illogical, zeitgeist-crossing megahit that Netflix will produce this time of year. 

Watch My Secret Santa If You Liked

• Falling For Christmas
• The Princess Switch Trilogy
• Virgin River
• New Amsterdam

MVP

Ryan Eggold as Matthew

While I REALLY know that I should give this to Breckenridge for the effort alone of donning the prosthetics & the costumes, I cannot give anything to the voice of Santa that just took me out of the movie entirely. 

For me, even in all the noise, Ryan Eggold just has such a warm, hug-type of presence in the film that makes him pop in every scene he’s in. He felt like a man in a Christmas movie as a bearded, kind-hearted soul who just wants to do better and be with someone who’s good and good for him. Eggold’s fine features and captivating smile made him too easy a casting, especially since he does not seem like an irresponsible trust-fund man-child in the slightest. 

One of the classic “this only gets made or even remotely makes sense because it’s a Christmas movie” premises that does not live up to the label as a “modern, merry Mrs. Doubtfire”.