Why don't Christmas movies think their viewers are intelligent? These films invest much time and effort in offering an ample supply of falsified emotions and hokey plot devices, then end on a condescending note with a throwaway lesson about the True Meaning of Christmas ™. I thought Thomas Kinkade's Christmas Cottage might approach this realm of cinema with a modicum of class, but once again, the movie gods proved me wrong. 

The year is 1977, and budding artist Thomas Kinkade (Jared Padalecki) leaves behind his studies at Berkeley to head home for the holidays. Unfortunately, his homecoming isn't a very joyous one, for bad news greets him before he even steps in the door. His mother, Maryanne (Marcia Gay Harden), has been a little too charitable in her ways, giving so much to her community that she's fallen behind on her house payments. With only a matter of weeks before the bank forecloses, Thomas and his little brother (Aaron Ashmore) get cracking on raising enough cash to save the family home. Thomas' talents land him a job painting a mural of his quaint little burg designed to  draw in tourists -- but ending up inspiring his fellow citizens. One by one, the quirky townspeople come to realize what matters most during the holiday season --  as countless films have espoused before, that love is the greatest gift of all.

I probably should feel guilty for revealing almost everything Christmas Cottage has to say, but most people will figure that out with a quick glance at the DVD cover art. I don't mind seeing stories that have been told since the dawn of movies, as long as they're told well and provide at least some incentive to keep watching. But Christmas Cottage comes up short on both of these fronts. It's not so much a story as a series of random events and subplots flying at you with next to no rhyme or reason. It flips back and forth through a Rolodex crammed with extraneous characters and story threads, none given enough space to do anything but eat up time.

Christmas Cottage is a film that doesn't tug on one's heartstrings as much as it yanks them, all but threatening physical harm if viewers don't shed a tear. It doesn't take long to pick up on the movie's  persistence in hammering home a simple message, one a Hallmark card could convey with more tact. Sadly, the cast ends up paying the price. I wasn't a big fan of Paladecki before, so his dazed and confused performance came as no surprise. Harden, however, is a talented actress whose Herculean effort to rise above the corny material is of little avail. She's stuck delivering dour news to the camera every once in a while, which seems designed to kick-start the plot whenever it sputters out. But the most high-profile victim here is poor Peter O'Toole, who plays Thomas' crotchety next-door neighbor. He must have known what a hackneyed mess he got himself into, for his howlingly awful and overplayed performance couldn't have been an accident. O'Toole's role as the token wise sage is the sort of part he makes fun of in Venus. 

Pleasant cinematography aside, little about Thomas Kinkade's Christmas Cottage warmed the cockles of my heart. I can see people picking it up to enjoy on a chilly winter night, but for Grinches like myself, Christmas Cottage seems like a lump of coal in my  cinematic stocking.

MY RATING: * 1/2 (out of ****)

(Released by Lionsgate and rated "PG" for language, some suggestive content and smoking.)