It’s that time of the year again, the season of twinkly lights, Mariah Carey resurfacing like it’s her annual national service, and of course, corny Christmas movies that melt our hearts.
And listen, The Jingle Bell Heist fits right into that tradition. It’s the kind of film you curl up with on the couch, pretending it’s snowing outside even though it’s 32oC, you’re sweating through your pyjamas, and the only “cold front” is the one Eskom forgot to schedule.
But hey, hot cocoa in hand, fan blasting, we move.
From the opening scenes, the film serves warm, festive energy that feels oddly comforting. And because no Christmas flick is complete without a bit of crime, think Wet Bandits in Home Alone and, hello, or the Grinch with the sticky fingers,…
