Joyeux Noël

Opens at Harvard Exit, Fri., March 24. Rated R. 115 minutes.

If you’re going to like this timely, heartwarming ode to peace on Earth among men of goodwill, you’re going to like it. If you’re going to loathe this shamelessly pandering schmaltz tsunami and its bogus hope (while Islam and America slide into global conflict), you’re going to loathe it.

The movie has its basis in true events: On Christmas Eve 1914, German, British, and French soldiers stuck in trenches only 60 yards apart did indeed lay down their arms, bury their dead, sing Christmas carols, play soccer, swap cards and booze, and trade sauerkraut for chocolate (a poor trade, in my opinion). “We’re Saxons; you’re Anglo-Saxons,” one German amiably observes here.

Single-mindedly questing for the Oscar nomination he got, writer-director Christian Carion crafts this happening into a warm ensemble piece. Daniel Brühl is the German commander, a martinet—Brühl’s natural scowl is perfect for the part—who is nonetheless a Paris-loving Weltbürger. When peace breaks out, he colludes with his French (Guillaume Canet) and Scottish (Alex Ferns) counterparts for a few days’ illegal armistice. A Scottish priest (Gary Lewis) holds Mass. A famous German tenor who got drafted (Benno Fürmann) sings to the temporary noncombatants, accompanied by his Danish singer bride (Diane Kruger).

Even this hard-bitten critic found the spectacle moving. The problem is, there’s nowhere to go beyond the setup. Carion can’t show the actual aftermath—30 million World War I casualties would harsh the yuletide mellow. He can sketch in various character traits, but there’s no time for character development, no room for drama during death’s brief holiday.

Besides, Carion’s version of war is as phony as the risible lip-syncing of Fürmann and Kruger (Rolando Villazón and Natalie Dessay actually sing). He leaves out the underlying issue of national chauvinism. Why did German authorities send those thousands of candlelit Christmas trees to the troops in the trenches? Not good will—it was to demonstrate their cultural superiority, according to Stanley Weintraub’s Silent Night: The Story of the World War I Christmas Truce. Germans wrote “Silent Night” and invented Christmas trees, and the celebration was part of the overall culture war.

Carion knows he can’t win. So his film simply surrenders, abruptly ends, and declares emotional victory. You have a 50-50 chance of being on his side.