Christmas Porn, Mistletoe And Wine

I was looking forward to sharing the movie Love Actually with my ten-year-old daughter our first Christmas in America. We had moved to Connecticut from Asia, and each morning since September, she had woken up hoping it might have snowed. I had explained that it would get icy by December, and she would get to see snow now we were living in a cold clime, but maybe we would not be lucky enough to have a white Christmas.

I first saw Love Actually in a cinema in Singapore and thought Megan would love it. There were some mature elements, the mother dying, and some of the language was choice, but she had heard worse when her father was trying to assemble a flat-packed cupboard from IKEA.

So the Saturday before Christmas, we decorated the tree, Megan directed her father to hang the mistletoe, and I made some mulled wine. The trees were frosted outside, we lit a roaring fire, and I felt it was starting to ‘look a lot like Christmas.’ I put the DVD on and snuggled with Megan on the couch. The film was as good as I had remembered. However, there was a part that I didn’t recognize about a cute couple who were apparently understudies for a movie. I wracked my memory. Had I gone to get a drink or visit the toilet and missed this scene? Maybe. Anyway, I soon forgot about them. I enjoyed Emma Thompson’s outstanding performance and laughed at Hugh Grant playing the same character as he always plays. The best part of his performance shouldered by his hair.

I had just taken a mouthful of wine when the cute couple reappeared. I almost choked as the wine went down the wrong way when the actress took off her top, and the actor was told to ‘cup her breasts.’ I coughed and looked over at Megan. She was staring intently at the screen, and the tips of her ears had turned pink. I fumbled with the remote and tried to fast forward but, in my haste, hit the rewind.

It turned out the whole storyline with the couple who were body doubles for porn actors had been cut out in Singapore. I knew they often censored sexual content of movies, but you usually knew as a scene would end very abruptly once a couple neared a bed or took off a piece of clothing. The film would restart when the couple was fully clothed again, eating breakfast and having a conversation that didn’t make any sense. In the case of Love Actually, as the couple in question, played by Martin Freeman and Joanna Page, never really interact with any of the other characters, the fact they had been censored was not noticeable.

We did finish the movie with me fast-forwarding as and when and we still watch this movie every Christmas. I still appreciate the performance of Hugh Grant’s hair, and we always make a toast when Joanna Page takes off her top, to men who warm their hands and ask before they touch you!

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