As the leaves turn crisp and the first flurries dust the rooftops, Netflix is wrapping up its annual gift to cozy-couch viewers: a slate of holiday movies that promise eggnog-fueled laughs, mistletoe mishaps, and enough heart to thaw even the iciest Scrooge. Leading the merry parade this year is A Merry Little Ex-Mas, a delightfully tangled rom-com dropping all 95 minutes of festive frenzy on November 12, 2025. Directed by Steve Carr—the comedic maestro behind Daddy Day Care‘s pint-sized pandemonium—and penned by Holly Hester (The Royal Treatment), this yuletide yarn stars a powerhouse ensemble: Alicia Silverstone as the frazzled ex-wife holding the tinsel together, Oliver Hudson as her charmingly oblivious former flame, Jameela Jamil as the glamorous interloper stealing the show (and maybe a heart or two), Pierson Fodé as the swoon-worthy wildcard, and Melissa Joan Hart as the meddlesome voice of holiday reason. Executive produced by Silverstone herself, alongside Hart and her powerhouse mom Paula Hart through Hartbreak Films, A Merry Little Ex-Mas isn’t your grandma’s Christmas special. It’s a sparkling cocktail of divorce dramedy, family feuds, and flirtatious what-ifs, proving that the best gifts sometimes come wrapped in awkward encounters and second-guessing.

At its snow-dusted core, the film follows Kate Harper (Silverstone), a resilient real estate agent and devoted mom who’s staring down the barrel of an amicable divorce like it’s just another open house. With her sprawling family home on the market—poised to fetch top dollar in their idyllic suburban enclave—Kate’s grand plan is simple: orchestrate one final, picture-perfect Christmas with her ex-husband Everett (Hudson) and their two whip-smart teens before waving goodbye to the chapter. Picture twinkling lights strung across the mantel, a gingerbread village rivaling a FAO Schwarz display, and carols piping through speakers as the family exchanges gifts under the tree. It’s the kind of Hallmark-hued fantasy Kate’s clung to amid the paperwork and property showings, a last hurrah to prove she’s got it all under control. But as any survivor of co-parenting knows, the holidays have a hilarious habit of ho-ho-hijacking even the most meticulous itineraries. Enter Sloane (Jamil), Everett’s stunning new girlfriend—a high-powered tech whiz with a wardrobe of power suits and a smile that could melt icicles. Sloane wasn’t on the guest list, but she crashes the festivities with the subtlety of a reindeer on Red Bull, turning Kate’s curated calm into a whirlwind of passive-aggressive pleasantries, accidental eggnog spills, and enough side-eye to power a sleigh.

What unfolds is pure holiday havoc, laced with the kind of sharp wit that makes you snort your hot cocoa. Kate, ever the improviser, counters Sloane’s arrival by fabricating a mystery beau of her own—enter Jake (Fodé), the hunky contractor who’s been fixing up the house with biceps that bulge like holiday hams and a grin that’s equal parts boy-next-door and bad-boy tease. Sparks fly (or do they?), as Kate’s white lie snowballs into a full-blown charade, forcing her to parade Jake around the yuletide chaos like a reluctant Secret Santa. Meanwhile, Everett grapples with his own regrets, torn between Sloane’s sleek sophistication and the cozy chaos he once took for granted. The kids—played with pitch-perfect teen snark by up-and-comers Emily Hall and Timothy Innes—roll their eyes at the adult antics while secretly rooting for a parental plot twist. And hovering in the wings is Aunt Lydia (Hart), Kate’s wisecracking sister who’s equal parts cheerleader and cocktail hour confessor, dispensing advice that’s as boozy as it is brilliant. “Divorce is like fruitcake,” Lydia quips in one standout scene, swirling her spiked cider. “Everyone says they hate it, but come the holidays, you can’t imagine life without it.” Hart, channeling her Sabrina the Teenage Witch charm with a grown-up edge, steals every frame she’s in, turning family dinners into improv comedy gold.

Silverstone, 49 and radiant as ever, anchors the madness with her trademark blend of vulnerability and verve—the same wide-eyed wonder that made Cher Horowitz an ’90s icon, now tempered by the wry wisdom of midlife reinvention. Fresh off her eco-thriller Reptile and a string of indie darlings, Silverstone infuses Kate with a quiet ferocity: she’s not the damsel pining for her past, but a woman reclaiming her future, one botched cookie batch at a time. “Playing Kate felt like therapy in tinsel,” Silverstone shared during a recent virtual press junket, her laugh lighting up the screen like fairy lights. “We’ve all been there—that moment when you’re trying to glue the family back together with Scotch tape and sheer will. But Holly’s script? It lets Kate unravel with grace, and that’s the real magic.” As executive producer, Silverstone didn’t just act; she championed sustainable sets—recycled props from local theaters, plant-based catering that rivaled a vegan feast—and wove in subtle nods to her vegan advocacy, like Kate’s “elf-powered” gift-wrapping station made from upcycled newsprint.

Opposite her, Hudson brings his easygoing charisma to Everett, a role that feels tailor-made for the Rules of Engagement alum’s knack for lovable lugs. Best known for his bro-mantic banter in Splitting Up Together and his turn as the smarmy music exec in Nashville, Hudson’s Everett is no cartoonish cad; he’s a flawed everyman whose post-divorce glow-up (think tailored sweaters and a suspiciously zen vibe) masks a heart still tangled in old ribbons. Off-screen, Hudson’s own family ties added poignant layers—his real-life son Wilder, 18, makes his big-screen debut as Everett’s on-screen boy, delivering a tear-jerking monologue that left dad misty-eyed on set. “Watching Wilder nail that scene? I was a puddle,” Hudson admitted in an exclusive chat with People. “This movie’s about those messy transitions—kids growing up, parents figuring out ‘me’ time. It’s Christmas, but it’s real life wrapped in a bow.” Filming wrapped in Toronto’s snow-globe streets last March, where Hudson and Silverstone bonded over late-night script tweaks and Hudson’s infamous dad jokes, turning the set into a surrogate family affair.

Jamil, the Good Place‘s Tahani Al-Jamil and a vocal body-positivity warrior, dives headfirst into Sloane with gleeful abandon—a character who’s less villain and more vortex, sucking everyone into her orbit of unfiltered ambition and accidental allure. “Sloane’s not the ‘other woman’ trope; she’s the disruptor we all secretly envy,” Jamil explained on her I Weigh podcast, teasing her character’s arc from glossy intruder to unlikely ally. Known for her razor-sharp cameos in She-Hulk and Vox Lux, Jamil’s comic timing shines in scenes like the disastrous white-elephant gift swap, where Sloane’s high-tech gadget gift clashes hilariously with the Harpers’ handmade traditions. Fodé, the soap-heartthrob-turned-leading-man from The Bold and the Beautiful, flexes his rom-com muscles as Jake, the handyman whose hammer skills extend to mending fences (and maybe hearts). His shirtless chimney-repair sequence—equal parts eye candy and slapstick—has already sparked thirsty memes across TikTok, with fans dubbing him “the gift that keeps on giving.” Hart rounds out the core with her effervescent energy, playing Lydia as the aunt who shows up with spiked punch and zero filter, a role that lets the Drive Me Crazy star flex her producing chops while riffing on sibling dynamics that echo her real-life Hart family empire.

Behind the camera, Carr—a veteran of feel-good farces like Dr. Dolittle 2—orchestrates the mayhem with breezy precision, transforming Toronto’s Victorian facades into a winter wonderland of wreaths and wrecks. Hester’s screenplay, inspired by her own brushes with blended-family holidays, balances belly laughs with bite: a midnight mistletoe standoff that crackles with unresolved tension, a caroling catastrophe involving rogue reindeer antlers, and a finale feast where truths tumble out like overturned ornaments. The score, a jaunty mix of indie folk carols and orchestral swells by composer Ludwig Göransson’s protégé, underscores the film’s theme: love doesn’t come gift-wrapped—it’s more like that quirky sweater from Aunt Edna, imperfect but irreplaceable. Production leaned into eco-conscious flair, with Silverstone sourcing thrifted costumes and Hartbreak Films pushing for diverse crew hires, making A Merry Little Ex-Mas as much a statement as a stocking stuffer.

Social media’s already sleigh-bell ringing with hype since the October 14 trailer drop—a 2-minute teaser that amassed 15 million views overnight, blending Clueless-esque quips with The Holiday‘s heartfelt hijinks. #MerryLittleExMas trended globally, flooded with fan casts (“Jameela as the mean girl we stan!”), recipe recreations of Kate’s “divorce-proof” peppermint bark, and thirst traps for Fodé’s flannel-clad form. “This is the messy Christmas movie we deserve—Silverstone slaying midlife glow-up while Hudson broods adorably,” one X user raved, echoing the chorus of early buzz. Critics’ advance peeks? Glowing: Variety called it “a frothy fizz of family folly with more heart than holly,” while The Hollywood Reporter praised its “sharp take on empty-nest exile, elevated by a cast that’s pure holiday ham.” On Rotten Tomatoes, audience anticipation sits at 92%, with parents hailing its ring-of-truth take on co-parenting charades. Even skeptics of the genre are thawing: “If you’re over the cookie-cutter cheer, this one’s got chaos with calories,” quipped a Collider preview.

Yet A Merry Little Ex-Mas transcends tropes, delving into the poignant push-pull of post-divorce parenting. Kate’s not chasing a rom-com redo; she’s negotiating her worth in a world that equates single moms with sympathy cards. Everett’s midlife pivot—trading boardroom bravado for boutique yoga—mirrors the quiet crises many face under the fairy lights. Sloane, far from a homewrecker, emerges as a mirror to Kate’s untapped potential, her “amazing” facade cracking to reveal insecurities as frosty as a failed fondue. And in the kids’ sidelong glances, the film whispers a gentle truth: sometimes, the best family holiday is the one where everyone shows up as they are—flaws, fumbles, and all. “We wanted laughs that linger into lump-in-throat moments,” Carr noted at a Toronto wrap party. “Christmas is magic, but it’s messier when hearts are involved.”

As November 12 approaches, A Merry Little Ex-Mas slots perfectly into Netflix’s tinsel takeover—flanked by flicks like Hot Frosty‘s sentient snowman and Meet Me Next Christmas‘ treasure-hunt tango. For Silverstone superfans craving a Clueless chaser, Hudson holdouts from Scream Queens, or Jamil junkies post-Good Place, it’s a binge-ready balm. Fire up the Roku, queue the cocoa, and let the ex-factor ensue. In a season of forced cheer, this rom-com reminds us: the jolliest chaos often births the sweetest carols. Ho-ho-hold onto your hats—or your heartstrings.