The Christmas Dream Musical Analysis: Thailand's Pioneering Musical in Half a Century Delivers a Heavy Dose of Sentimental Spectacle.
Hailed as the initial musical production from Thailand in five decades, The Christmas Dream is directed by British filmmaker Paul Spurrier and offers up a fascinating blend of the contemporary and the classic. The film serves as a contemporary rags-to-riches tale that journeys from the hills of the north to the bustling capital of Bangkok, adorned with old-school Technicolor aesthetics and plenty of emotionally rich show-stopping numbers. The music and lyrics are crafted by Spurrier, accompanied by an orchestral score composed by Mickey Wongsathapornpat.
A Journey of Hope and Morality
Portrayed with a steely determination but in a more diminutive frame, Amata Masmalai plays Lek, a ten-year-old schoolgirl. She is forced to escape after her abusive stepfather Nin (played by Vithaya Pansringarm) brutally kills her mother. Venturing forth with only her disabled toy Bella for company, Lek relies on a unyielding sense of right and wrong, directed toward a better life by the spirit of her late mum. Her quest is peppered with a cast of picaresque companions who challenge her principles, among them a spoiled rich girl desperately seeking a companion and a quack doctor peddling dubious miracle cures.
The director's love of the song-and-dance format is plain to see – or, more accurately, it is gloriously evident. Initial rural sequences in particular capture the warm, vibrant feel reminiscent of The Sound of Music.
Dance and Cinematic Pizzazz
The choreography often possesses a lively snap and pace. A memorable highlight erupts on a corporate business park, which acts as Lek's first taste of the Bangkok corporate grind. With business executives cartwheeling in and out of a great mechanical procession, this stands as the singular moment where The Christmas Dream touches upon the stylized complexity found in golden-age musical cinema.
Musical and Narrative Limitations
Despite being richly orchestrated, much of the score is excessively anodyne musically and lyrically. Rather than studding songs at key dramatic moments, Spurrier douses the film with them, seemingly trying to mask a underdeveloped narrative. Only during the beginning and conclusion – with the tragedy of Lek's mother and when her spirits wane in Bangkok – is there enough challenge to offset an overly straightforward and sweet journey.
Brief glimmers of gentle class satire, such as when Lek's sudden good fortune attracts avaricious villagers crawling all over her, are unlikely to satisfy older audiences. Young children might embrace the pervasive positive outlook, the foreign backdrop cannot conceal a fundamentally sense of blandness.
