Content Warning: Some light spoilers for the movie “Turkey Hollow,” but do you honestly care?

Thanksgiving is a weird holiday. When done properly, it’s a holiday about gratitude and is beloved by people with healthy family dynamics, but it has a hard time competing with its glitzier neighbors, Halloween and Christmas. I think of Thanksgiving as “Three weeks of stress and arguments leading to one disappointing dinner.” The troubling historical legacy of Thanksgiving also makes it even less fun to celebrate. 

Finding movies that make you want to celebrate Thanksgiving is even more challenging because Thanksgiving is not a whimsical holiday. All you do is cook a lot of food, binge it, then turn on a Christmas movie or something. It’s difficult to make a Thanksgiving film about something other than complicated family drama.

“Turkey Hollow” is one such movie that aims for holiday whimsy. A newly divorced Dad and his two kids, Annie and Tim, visit their Aunt Cly in the fictional town of Turkey Hollow, located in the Pacific Northwest. The young kids hear about the local legend of the “Hoodoo,” a giant yeti creature that stalks the woods. Aunt Cly (Mary Steenburgen, and the best actor in the bunch) is a crunchy vegan activist, the Dad (Jay Harrington) is overwhelmed by his new status as a single parent, Annie is an annoyed teenager, and Tim is a young boy who believes in magic and the hoodoo. 

Oh, and Ludacris is the narrator. I never thought I’d see the day when I watched a movie, and my first response was, “Wow this movie could have really benefitted from more Ludacris.”

The story kicks into gear when Tim and Annie venture into the forest to catch a photo of the mysterious hoodoo (in exchange for a generous cash prize). They don’t find the hoodoo, but instead, four fluffy creatures creatively referred to as “monsters.” 

Now, before I go any further, I want to answer the question you’re all wondering: Do the Turkey Hollow monsters become cuter the longer you watch the movie?

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No.

If anything, they’re uglier the longer they’re on screen. The only reason I watched this movie was because of its association with the Jim Henson company, not because of the Lifetime Channels’ impressive holiday selection. It pains me to say this, but the Jim Henson company did a bad job on this one. Judging from how the monsters were presented and framed, it seems the creators were going for a “so ugly they’re cute” aesthetic, like E.T. or Dante from “Coco.” These creatures are ugly in a way reminiscent of the hideous alien baby “MAC” from “Mac and Me.” 

There are a few moments in which the characters refer to the monsters as “cute,” and another more memorable moment in which the Dad describes them as “toeing the line between fugly and adorable.” But to refer to them as anything other than ugly is an outright lie.

If there had been a scene in the last few minutes of the movie where a bear suddenly ate all the monsters, I would shrug and feel concern for the bear because those Turkey Hollow things for sure have parasites. 

If one of them accidentally wound up in my apartment, I would scream and try to make my dog fight it (Don’t worry – Daphne would win). Then I’d move. 

If one of my friends got one as a pet, I wouldn’t end the friendship, but I would make them show me proof they had it neutered. “Turkey Hollow” didn’t go into the sexual proclivities of the creatures, but they give off an aura that screams, “I like rubbing against people when I’m in heat, which is often.”

So, no, I was not a fan of the creature designs for this movie, which took me out of the story.

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As for the story itself, it was entertaining, if a little cliched. When the kids are put in danger by a corrupt turkey farmer, it’s up to Aunt Cly and Dad to rescue them. Along the way, the Dad learns a lesson about believing in magic or something, and becomes a better parent. The Turkey Hollow monster

In good conscience, I cannot say this was a good movie. In addition to my dislike of the creature designs, the plot was all over the place and predictable, and the acting, especially from the younger actors, was stilted. Poor acting is almost always a reflection of the director and script, so please know that I cast blame on the crew more than the young people trying to make it in show business. Plus, could you imagine trying to put on a convincing performance in a Lifetime movie about Thanksgiving when your costars resembled the unholy offspring of “Where the Wild Things Are” and Pete Davidson? That’s a Herculean task.

Even though I have a history of reviewing “so-so” movies for this blog, the main reason I have this blog is because I love finding movies and shows that I think will resonate with people. Despite my critiques, I know in my heart that this movie is for someone. Some weird theatre kid or crochet enthusiast, or devoted fan of “Our Flag Means Death,” will catch a showing of this movie and become obsessed. It will become their favorite holiday film and a movie that regularly makes movie night rotations, like “Troll 2.”

Now, this movie isn’t awful, nor would I classify it as “so bad its good.” The movie succeeds whenever it defies genre tropes and shows an ounce of self-awareness. There were at least a few people in the cast and crew who were well aware they were making, well, a “turkey” of a movie. That influence occasionally shines through and often clashes with the Hallmark-style family feature. My pet hypothesis is this movie was once pitched as a darker film but was then sanitized by executives to become acceptable for family viewing.

The fourth-wall breaks featuring Ludacris were pretty entertaining, especially since the character of “the narrator” seemed to be written to be indifferent to the family’s well-being. If anything, the idea of a narrator who doesn’t care about the protagonists is a story idea worthy of further exploration. I also like how the bickering siblings remained bickering siblings even as they wandered into more perilous scenarios. Another movie would have had the characters kindly resolve their differences and act like best friends. Not here. This movie also deserves credit for playing up an unexpected romance between Aunt Cly and the sheriff, who wants to jump her bones. It was not the love story I expected, but it wasn’t unwelcome. I’m a sucker for any romance starring people over 50.  

Much like when I was a teenager and watched “Labyrinth” for the first time (followed by fifteen more times because that movie spoke to me), I imagine that someone will enthusiastically embrace “Turkey Hollow”‘s various charms and graciously overlook its flaws. They might even find the monsters palatable. If I was allowed to enjoy “Labyrinth” despite the silly jokes and that one scene with the mystical bog that smells like farts, then thirty years later, a new audience has the right to fall in love with “Turkey Hollow.”

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