Instead, we get comedy that disintegrates into fluff. Then we get treated to Christmas drivel promoting love, togetherness, peace on Earth, good will toward men, blah, blah, blah. We even get a reenactment of Christ's birth in a manger. The film's happy, sappy ending would make Frank Capra gag. Philip's girlfriend has just broken up with him, Catherine is prone to crying fits and then sits in a bathtub to chill out.
Blanche meanwhile hates the world.
Lurking somewhere in the background is a serial killer called the Seaside Strangler. The comedy stems from the disastrous interactions of these looney tune characters. If Ephron and her co-writer sister Delia had added a little depth to these folks, the film might been touching instead of just cartoonish. As director, Ephron also has difficulty bringing all these random strands together into a cohesive whole. To resolve matters, she simply resorts to the ridiculous.