At first glance, Cheerful little ex looks like just another holiday rom-com—a comforting, predictable love story wrapped up with a neat bow. Only in this case the festive wrapper is made of green ribbon. Any environmentally oriented viewers will quickly notice Former No This is not just a banal Christmas romp, but a social advertisement for a sustainable lifestyle.
That's why on the Friday afternoon before Christmas, several Grist employees snuggled up on their couches to watch a Netflix movie that our editor-in-chief assured us was actually a climate film “disguised as holiday romance.” Alicia Silverstone (from ignorant fame and sustainability advocate in real life) plays an environmentalist named Kate, an architect turned helpful mom. Her passion for the planet, which manifests itself in familiar hippie practices like composting, buying second-hand goods and making jewelry from “recycled and found objects,” borders on obsession in the eyes of family and friends plagued by such sins as handmade gifts and a carbon-sucking living Christmas tree.
Safe · No tax deduction · Takes 45 seconds
Safe · No tax deduction · Takes 45 seconds
She was separated for months from her husband, a small-town doctor named Everett, who one day whisked her away to his idyllic hometown of Winterlight, forcing her to abandon her professional dreams in Boston. But enough about him. It's almost irrelevant. (Plus, it has as much personality as recycled cardboard—maybe that's why Kate likes it so much.) This movie is less about their reconciliation and more about a cup of hot cocoa for the souls of neglected, crispy 40-something women who long to curl up with a movie that whispers: You are right. You are appreciated. You were smart to install all those solar panels.
When we started commenting on the film on Slack, it didn't take long for each of us to see something different in the main character. She shares her name with senior staff writer Kate Yoder, as well love of long words (e.g. “thermodynamic”) and similar life experiences with assistant editor Claire Elise Thompson, who also followed her doctor husband around the country. Teresa Chin, executive editor of Grist, couldn't help but identify with the anti-materialist mom who champions homemade and second-hand goods. Anyone who has given more than a passing thought to climate change will likely find something interesting in Kate.
All the other characters in the film are nothing more than props or background to Kate, but two caught our attention. One of them was Chet, Kate's brief fling, an adorable himbo who seems to value her interests more than anyone else in her life. Chet for Winterlight what is it Kirk in Stars Hollowapparently doing every job possible – including, as we learn at the end, driving a snowplow as an emergency response volunteer. (To be fair, their love story could have made a better movie.) The other was Kate's home, nicknamed “The Mother Ship,” a picturesque Victorian home that had us all cooing in the group chat over its resemblance to the iconic house from the film. Practical magic. Spoiler alert: it's the Mothership that really saves the day in the end.
While the film never directly mentions climate change, it is peppered with references to the environment. There are more references to sustainable development than corny romantic scenes. They go beyond the low-hanging fruit of eco-friendly living, like worm bins. Kate recommends that her neighbor install heat pump when her stove breaks down. One of her fathers-in-law (yes, there are two gay grandfathers in the family) asks her about geothermal energy. Her husband even calls her by her nickname, “Al,” a reference to Al Gore, apparently the only environmentalist he's heard of besides Kate.
Kate's friends and family make fun of her environmental quirks. And she perhaps deserves a little of it—for much of the film, she veers toward a fun-killing environmentalist persona (at one point, upon seeing Everett's new house, decked out in energy-guzzling Christmas lights and inflatable lawn ornaments, Kate exclaims, “I can hear the polar ice caps melting!”). But as the film progresses, it becomes clear how much her loved ones admire her and share her values, if not exactly the same. Her children, for example, say her passion inspires them to pursue their dreams.
And Kate's readiness shows when a hurricane knocks out the town, leaving her house, complete with solar panels and batteries, the only one in Winterlight with light (and heat, for that matter). Neighbors flock to the Mothership as if it were climate resilience center. Inspired by the warmth of her community, Kate decides not to return to Boston to pursue her former job as a green architect, but to stay in Winterlight with Everett and start her own sustainability company, which she describes as “making a difference in my community and changing the world, one person at a time.” This is a “think global, act local” model.
As Teresa put it in our group chat about the film: “I mean, let's call this movie what it was – a fantasy where everyone in your life eventually realizes that they were wrong and you're right and you also have to live in Practical magic home during Christmas.”
Cheerful little ex It may not be the romantic comedy of the century – maybe the sequel will give us the Kate and Chet chemistry we deserve – but as cozy wish fulfillment for people who care about the planet, it's a 10 out of 10.
