Coffee shop ladies won't shut up about Christmas decorating, so fine, may as well lean into it, I'm going to talk about my second-favorite Christmas movie.
My favorite Christmas movie is, of course, Die Hard, because it is the greatest Christmas movie of all time. There are LAYERS. It's a Shakespearean tragedy if you view it from the perspective of Bruce Willis's shirt.
But I am not here to talk about Die Hard, the greatest Christmas movie ever made, because what Twitter thread could do justice to this cinematic masterpiece? I am here to talk about my second-favorite Christmas movie, The Bishop's Wife.
The Bishop's Wife is a slight, delicate little wisp of a movie. It's ethereal. We open on a scene where some asshole who doesn't respect his instrument is playing a violin outside IN THE SNOW surrounded by urchins, and also Cary Grant.
Look closely. Like its rival snowy masterpiece, THE THING, this movie also spoils its entire plot in the first few minutes. Cary Grant's identity is clear from carefully, subtly placed clues. (Also get a load of that quaint non-widescreen format.) 
Cary Grant wanders around the snowy town square for a moment, beaming benevolently at the excited children and their families who peer into shop windows and stroll around this pre-climate-change winter wonderland.
He helps a blind man across the street, saying it's a privilege to be able to help. He smiles at children grinning at the creepiest-ass mechanical Santa you've ever seen. He watches a young woman as she goes into a shop where a plummy-voiced man is arguing with a tree seller.
After we've spent a long while panning around this perfectly clean, safe, affluent area, he welcomes Julia to the "disreputable part of town." He buys a Christmas tree for $1.85.
We're introduced to the Bishop, played by David Niven. He's trying to raise money for a new cathedral, and having a hard time of it, because the wealthy widow Mrs. Hamilton wants it all named after her late husband.
He balls out his wife for interrupting his meeting. She tells him how wonderful he is and how proud of him she is for having a vision.
He laments that they now have to have dinner together, and mutters, "well, let's get it over with. I have work to do."
So then he goes into his study, and prays for help, and Heaven sends him Cary Grant.
Did I mention that the wife the bishop has been treating like a burden as she attempts to stay out of his way unless she's comforting him and buoying his self-esteem is, y'know, Loretta Young? She's luminous.
So, what the Bishop basically asks his Angel-On-Demand to do is get his wife off his back.
So, let me just make sure you're all following. This old, crotchety man with a luminously beautiful, compassionate, supportive, neglected wife decides that instead of asking for, y'know, fundraising help, he's going to assign Cary Grant to essentially be her gigolo.
Let me just say it again: to help his marriage, he gets CARY GRANT to spend every waking moment attempting to make his wife happy.
And then he has the nerve to get jealous. Anyway, everything gets wrapped up nicely, the bishop learns to value his wife, they patch up their marriage, and he gives some kind of Christmas sermon with sappy music at the end. All of that's fine, fine.
But the point is, most of this movie is, as a female viewer, WHAT IF CARY GRANT HAD NOTHING BETTER TO DO THAN ATTEMPT TO MAKE YOU HAPPY? It's a luscious trifle of a movie.
Cary Grant also lectures him on the folly of building a big-ass expensive cathedral when there are homeless people right outside.
He's such a nice boy.
Like, I dunno, she remains loyal to her awful husband and everything but whatever. Her dress here is also AMAZING.
Anyway, it's a little over an hour. It's, of course, super-Christian in the way of 1940s Christmas movies, but whatever. It's witty, charming, fleet, and again, is mostly an hour of Cary Grant as your eager-to-please lady's companion wish fulfillment.
