The Christmas Dream Analysis: The Kingdom's First Musical in Decades Delivers a Heavy Dose of Sentimental Spectacle.
Hailed as the first Thai musical in five decades, The Christmas Dream comes under the direction of British filmmaker Paul Spurrier and presents a curious blend of the contemporary and the classic. The film serves as a contemporary Oliver Twist that journeys from the northern highlands to the bustling capital of Bangkok, featuring vintage, vibrant aesthetics and plenty of heartstring-tugging musical highlights. Its songs are the work of Spurrier, accompanied by an symphonic soundtrack from Mickey Wongsathapornpat.
A Journey of Innocence and Ethics
Portrayed with a Michelle Yeoh-like resolve but in a much smaller package, young actress Amata Masmalai plays Lek, a ten-year-old schoolgirl. She is compelled to flee after her violent stepfather Nin (played by Vithaya Pansringarm) fatally assaults her mother. Venturing forth with only her one-legged doll Bella for company, Lek is guided by a strong moral compass, promised toward a better life by the spirit of her deceased mother. Her path is populated by a cast of colorful characters who challenge her principles, among them a pampered rich girl desperately seeking a true friend and a charlatan physician peddling questionable miracle cures.
The director's love of the musical genre is abundantly clear – or, more accurately, it is resplendent. The early rural sequences in particular bottle the warm, vibrant feel reminiscent of The Sound of Music.
Dance and Cinematic Pizzazz
The dance routines often possesses a quickstep snap and pace. A particular standout breaks out on a corporate business park, which serves as Lek's first taste of the Bangkok corporate grind. With business executives cartwheeling in and out of a large mechanical cortege, this represents the one instance where The Christmas Dream touches upon the stylized complexity found in golden-age musical cinema.
Story and Song Limitations
Although lavishly orchestrated, a lot of the score is excessively anodyne musically and lyrically. Rather than studding songs at pivotal dramatic moments, Spurrier douses the film with them, seemingly overcompensating for a underdeveloped storyline. Only during the beginning and conclusion – with the tragedy of Lek's mother and when her spirits wane in Bangkok – is there enough hardship to offset an otherwise straightforward and saccharine narrative arc.
Brief glimmers of gentle social commentary, such as when Lek's stroke of luck attracts avaricious villagers swarming her, are unlikely to satisfy older audiences. Young children might embrace the pervasive optimism, the foreign setting fails to disguise a fundamentally narrative blandness.
