When I see a notification on Twitter, I hope it’s Mila Kunis sliding into my DMs, longing to invite me over for a spooning session while Ashton Kutcher is out.
But the likelihood of that is pretty low. I KNOW, RIGHT? Who knew?!
It is, however, more likely that someone with an egg avatar is just trolling me with antisemitic hatred. And yet I’d happily welcome that hourly, if it meant I’d never have to see… This.
Mariah Carey, a woman who has been relying on her song All I Want For Christmas, annually, to help fund her – I dunno – diamond-encrusted tiger penis collection, is now relying on her movie All I Want For Christmas, to help fund her – let’s say – meth-addict fight pit.
Teasing the movie, the diva wrote “My song is becoming a movie! You’re the first to hear about this exciting news!”. And yet, I wish I was the last.
Everything about this trailer is wrong; the God-awful voiceover; the fact that Mariah Carey is sprawled out on a sofa like the most uncomfortable therapist session of the 21st century; and the fact that we’re now going to get a 90-minute animated feature based on a two minute-long song. And not even the best festive song; imagine how bloody incredible Tim Burton could have adapted Wham!’s Last Christmas.
It used to be the season to be jolly, but now it’s the season for me to hold my Cineworld Unlimited card above an open fire, and watch the black and red slowly melt forming a wax, gradually dripping into my open eyes, thus meaning I can never, ever watch this movie.
And that was me being reserved on the idea.