The overload of sugar in this movie would kill a truckload of diabetics. Dreadful, dreadful dialog that would make the regular viewer cringe with embarrassment. Watching the hugely talented Peter O'Toole in this movie makes one hope that he never has to watch this or ever again have to descend to this level to make a living. For this particular viewer, the only thought that went through my mind was, please somebody hand me a fork so I can stick it in my eyes. This is a movie made for old ladies who live alone with a houseful of cats. If Thomas Kinkade has a story to tell, then he needs a much more gifted writer to bring it to fruition. This is a movie that would reduce even the most sympathetic of souls to batter their head on the coffee table in utter despair. Watching Peter O'Toole, who does everything but wear a sandwich board saying, "My character is going to die very soon", one prays that he will just peg out so that one will no longer have to observe the depths to which he has sunk in acting in this tripe. A definite miss.
Review of Thomas Kinkade's Christmas Cottage
