Genre: Family

Blizzard

Directed by LeVar Burton

Written by Leif Bristow

and Agnes Bristow

Starring Zoe Warner, Brenda

Blethyn, Christopher Plummer

Classification: G

Rating: **½

Blizzard is a solid bundle of modest charm, one of those instant-mix classics of the season destined to gain an annual foothold on television's Family network -- schedule it right after Charlie Brown's Christmas and somewhere before It's a Wonderful Life.

Compared with the high gloss of Elf or the low scatology of Bad Santa, the script is as quaint as its setting, and the whole production has a likably old-fashioned feel, giving off the faint must of those crocheted doilies that granny used to haul out on special occasions -- all nicely knit together but, in a Nintendo world, is there still a market for this stuff? I hope so.

The picture comes with a thin contemporary frame wrapped around a tall tale. The snow is falling yet little Jess is sad, upset by the news that her best buddy has moved out of the neighbourhood. Enter her eccentric Aunt Millie (Brenda Blethyn) to start the tale spinning -- to tell a story about a girl just like her, and about a Santa who's hard of hearing and reindeer that won't stop talking and, of course, about friends who part, but a friendship that never dims because it's locked in the bright sanctuary of a sensitive heart.

Cue those quaint flashbacks, to the late forties when Katie (Zoe Warner) is the lonely only daughter of hard-working parents. Picked on by two rambunctious brothers, she finds her refuge and her passion at the outdoor rink. There, wearing hand-me-down skates, and coached by a crusty yet kindly ex-champion, Katie learns to cut quite the figure eight. But then dad loses his job, forcing the family to move to the big bad city, where the poor girl's troubles start anew.

Meanwhile, up at the North Pole, a half-deaf Santa is definitely violating the stereotype. His beard is grey and his suit is beige and his village is a medieval city run with an iron hand by a subordinate Claus, his bureaucratic elf-in-chief. In fact, as played by Christopher Plummer, our not-so-jolly one looks like a King Lear who wandered off the heath and onto the set of The Lord of the Rings. No reason to worry, though. Beneath the dour surface, he's a really nice soul and, when a reindeer babe is born, is quick to christen the tyke Blizzard.

It pains me to report that not all the reindeer at this polar extreme can fly. But Blizzard can. He can even talk (and a good thing too for Whoopi Goldberg). Better yet, Blizzard has the extra-special gift of "empathic navigation" -- in common parlance, he can hear the cries of distressed children and race to their rescue. Children like Katie. They meet, they mingle. Katie loves to fly across the ice, Blizzard loves to fly in the air -- theirs is a match made in Christmas-classic heaven. Sure, there are still more troubles to be overcome, but only the kind that make the happy ending all the sweeter.

Along the way, LeVar Burton, whose directing experience is mainly confined to television, proves that he hasn't strayed far from his small-screen roots. Mixing actual reindeer with their animatronic and computer-generated cousins, he gives the visual blend a seamless look. However, Burton comes up badly short when the antlered gang take to the heavens -- these aerial sequences should be kinetically thrilling, but they barely get off the ground.

Nevertheless, Blizzard is no snow-job. Too often, these family movies, brandishing their family values, seem to owe less to Tiny Tim than to Uriah Heep -- their sincerity feels false and their humility unctuous. But not here. This has got the right nice stuff, enough to inspire at least one Christmas wish: Dear Santa, just for a day, make my big girl little again, and we'll wait for you together, carving angels in the snow and seeking reindeer in the sky.