Brits would no longer find a bumbling Prime Minister with a posh accent and a penchant for younger ladies and unofficial Christmas parties remotely charming. It certainly didn’t work for Boris Johnson, whose legacy now amounts to asking scientists if COVID could be cured by blow-drying your nostrils.
Because of Brexit regulations, Jamie would be unable to stay in France long enough to see his first draft get rescued from a pond by his half-dressed Portuguese housekeeper. Instead, he’d be trying to complete his novel in the U.K., while supplementing his income with a teaching position that, owing to cuts to the creative-writing department, probably wouldn’t last the semester.
The much-anticipated Christmas concert would be cancelled, because the school building contains RAAC and is therefore at risk of collapsing. Families from the “dodgy end of Wandsworth” would be relieved by this announcement, as they’d be more worried about feeding their children this winter than making elaborate octopus costumes by hand for their kids’ overwrought nativity play/talent show.
The awkwardness that brought the two naked body doubles together would never have developed into love once the production hired an intimacy coördinator.
It’s much harder to steal furtive glances via Zoom, so Sarah’s office romance could never have been sparked. Sure, the Christmas office party would still go ahead, but ever since the pandemic hit, both Sarah and Karl have been working from home, and, as a result, have lost their ability to socialize and/or dance like regular people.
Obsessive stalking and harassment, whether on your doorstep or in the airport departures lounge, is no longer considered a bold romantic gesture. Though, really, was it ever?
No one can afford to live in central London anymore unless they’re Russian oligarchs, football-club owners, or, in some cases, both. Therefore, Mark, who still listens to music on a boombox, would have been living way out in the ’burbs since the financial crash of 2008.
Billy Mack wouldn’t have the slightest chance of beating the YouTuber LadBaby to a No. 1 Christmas hit—it’s much easier to buy into the myth that there’s a wealth of sausage rolls in the U.K. than the myth that there’s an abundance of festive love.
Alan Rickman is irreplaceable. No other actor could be forgiven for breaking Emma Thompson’s heart. (Just ask Kenneth Branagh.)
The concept of love actually isn’t that popular anymore. Just ask your ex. ♦
