After finding myself in so many debates with friends about Hallmark movies and whether they have any real value, somewhere in that madness, I not only imagined a closing argument in their defense.
I wrote this short story as if the whole debate were unfolding inside a courtroom drama.
I can see it now...
The prosecution would present its case against Hallmark movies.
Then, I would stand up and deliver the closing argument for the defense...
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,
You’ve heard the prosecution. They argue that Hallmark movies create a false world. That they’re unrealistic, repetitive, and part of the brain rot of modern media. They say we should stop watching them and spend our time on stories that are more grounded in reality.
I understand that argument.
But here’s my final plea…
We know exactly what Hallmark movies are don’t we?
We laugh at them. We’ve built entire meme cultures around them.
The city slicker returns home.
The old flame reappears.
The Christmas festival needs saving.
It’s like a hot chocolate on a cold night.
But we’ve seen the formula again and again.
So why do millions of people keep watching?
The prosecution assumes we can’t curate our own media diet. That we can’t watch the news, appreciate great art, and still enjoy a Hallmark movie.
That may be true of some. I reject the notion that this applies to the majority.
We’re more complicated than that. Aren’t we?
I live in Medina, Ohio, a small town that feels a little like Stars Hollow, the fictional town from Gilmore Girls. (Thanks to my wife, Cori, for introducing me to this series.)
There’s a magical feeling that comes with walking around Medina’s Public Square. The markets. The shops. Old friends connecting. The people taking a break on a lazy afternoon, sitting on a park bench and watching the wind move through the trees that hover above.
The prosecution claims that places like that aren’t real. That they only exist in the mind and paintings of Normal Rockwell.
I’m here to tell you Hallmark towns exist. Because I live in one.
Now, I’m not completely blind. It’s not perfect. No town is.
But, when you live in a place like I do, there are moments when it feels like you’ve actually stepped into one of those movies.
Even with predictable plots and cheesy dialogue, these movies remind us what matters.
Community.
Connection.
Love.
The things we spend our lives chasing often pale in comparison to those simple things.
The prosecution says these stories repeat themselves.
Of course they do.
But don’t our greatest traditions do the same?
We pray the same prayers.
We celebrate the same holidays.
We return to the same rituals.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury let’s be clear. Repetition isn’t always a flaw.
Sometimes it’s how we remember what’s important.
In 2026, we continue to be surrounded by clickbait headlines, outrage, directionless opinions, and endless notifications every hour of every day.
I submit to you that we don’t need more reminders that the world is broken.
In fact, we need balance.
Stories that help us breathe.
Stories that remind us kindness still exists.
Stories that leave us with hope.
And maybe that’s exactly why Hallmark movies matter.
Because every once in a while, it’s good to spend two hours in a world that reminds us the one we’re trying to build is still possible.
I rest my case.
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