Hark! Another Christmas movie about the redemption of a dysfunctional family—and another lump of coal in my Christmas stocking. Love the Coopers is a woeful attempt at ‘collage’ cinema (multiple sugary plotlines populated by dull caricatures—an oeuvre seemingly popularised by 2003’s Love Actually). If you’re looking for a bit of seasonal cheer, you’re better off staring at a nativity scene for two hours.
I find it distasteful when these films (that are nothing more than products adorned with tinsel) belabour the commercialisation of Christmas. Coopers routinely bashes the audience over the head with a series of unsubtle cutaways showing disgruntled santas and festively attired pets. We get it, Coopers; and, no, you aren’t going to be the edgy-but-sweet tale to rescue Christmas from cynical Grinches like me; neither with your cloying Steve Martin voiceover that serves as an unnecessary and manipulative conceit for the yawn-inducing finale, nor your employ of respected thesps like Alan Arkin and John Goodman.
Look, there are some fine, well-meaning actors at work here, and the script has its moments, but neither of these things can purge the stench from this turd. The whole is less than the sum of its parts. Stay away!