TThe return of Lindsay Lohan, who redefined herself as a movie star rather than a gossip joke, coincided with Netflix’s annual rebranding as home to cheap and cheerful Christmas fodder, easily made and easily devoured. It was a smart, low-stakes, high-exposure comeback, with 2022’s Falling into Christmas, her first leading role in almost a decade, a no-brainer of a hit during the streamer’s seasonal onslaught.

It almost didn’t matter that it wasn’t very good, it wasn’t Real It should be, it just gave us proof that Lohan still had the same magnetism that made her a star in the first place. But her next film with Netflix was less easy – the truly horrific Irish Wish – and suddenly her association with the streamer felt less like a reboot and more like a long hiatus, trapping her in a mode she really needed. away from (next year’s Freaky Friday sequel should help with that). Her third and contractually final outing with the platform is the best of them all, but only because the bar is set so low that we can’t even see it, not just for Lohan’s final series, but for Netflix’s celebratory oeuvre in general.

To our credit, Our Little Secret seems less like another attempt to recycle the junky Hallmark formula and more like an attempt to emulate a slicker 2000s comedy. There are shades of Meet the Parents and Four Christmases and even a director from that era at the helm, Stephen Herek, who worked with stars like Mark Wahlberg, Angelina Jolie and Tommy Lee Jones in that same decade. It’s not as glossy or raunchy as last year’s surprise hit Everyone But You, but it tries to appeal to the same audience, those who grew up on studio rom-coms that had a little more ambition. Like many of those films, it also revolves around deception, and like Everyone But You, it’s another film so poorly constructed that you wonder why they bothered to lie in the first place.

It begins in 2014 when Avery (Lohan) and her boyfriend Logan (Ian Harding) make their way to her surprise farewell party. She moves to London and in a desperate attempt to keep her from leaving, Logan proposes. She says no and he storms off. Ten years later, they are both heading to town for the holidays with new partners. For the first time, they both meet their other half’s parents, but in a twist that requires a bag full of unasked questions from Santa, they discover they’re spending Christmas with the same family. Their partners are siblings and, after a while, why, huh? During a discussion, they choose not to tell anyone that they were ever together.

It’s a decision that never makes much sense, but takes the pair on a far-fetched journey of accidentally consumed weed gummies, pumping up fake dogs, underage drinking, blackmail and embarrassing church speeches. Even though none of this is as funny as it should be (the film is actually not that funny at all), it is just entertaining enough thanks to a brisk pace and a spirited cast. There’s more talent around the edges than we’re used to here, with ex-Saturday Night Live cast members Tim Meadows, Chris Parnell and one-seasoner Jon Rudnitsky; the stalwart Scrubs and the striking Birth/Rebirth Judy Reyes; Scandal and Dan Bucatinsky from The Comeback; Mission: Impossible’s Henry Czerny and, most rewardingly, Kristin Chenoweth. The Wicked star, who plays a viperous Real Housewives-inspired mother, gives the film a heavy lift whenever she’s on screen, operating well in her wheelhouse (she’s also appeared in festive comedies like Netflix’s Holidate and the aforementioned Four Christmases) but adds flavor to what can often be a boring trifle.

Lohan and Harding are decent enough in the banter – the latter has a Seth MacFarlane-esque elasticity that really works here – but the script, from first-time writer Hailey DeDominicis, isn’t clever or inventive enough to really stretch them. As we close out this year, I pray that no comedy in 2025 or ever again relies on a scene in which a character unintentionally eats edibles, a blindingly overused trope that also implies that cannabis is a terrifying hallucinogen. Instead, rely on some gummies while watching Our Little Secret, a perfectly fitting Christmas comedy that could use a boost.