Lots of Christmas songs appear in lots of movies, and we all know how bad and how monotonous they can get. The following is a list of seven Christmas songs in seven Christmas movies that stand out. They're used for some particular purpose, rather than just dressing. Hopefully these songs lend new meaning to their movies, and vice versa. And in the end, everything becomes just a little more tolerable.

1. "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," from Meet Me in St. Louis (1944)
This song has become a standard, of course. But looking at its very first performance by Judy Garland shows that it was actually meant ironically. Esther Smith (Garland) sings it while looking out the window at a forlorn winter's night, her sister Tootie (Margaret O'Brien) at her side. (The family may have to move away from their beloved St. Louis home.) Tears flow, and the scene is accompanied by Tootie's wanton destruction of a carefully-crafted family of snow people on the lawn.

2. "Christmas in Hollis," from Die Hard (1988)
While waiting in a limo, just downstairs from the chaos in his wife's building, John McClane (Bruce Willis) listens to the radio. The limo driver Argyle (De'voreaux White) plays the just-released hip-hop Christmas song by Run-DMC. "Don't you have any Christmas music?" McClane asks. "This is Christmas music!" Argyle replies excitedly, moving to the beat. I'm not sure how many other hip-hop Christmas songs have been recorded since then, but they have some big shoes to fill. (Runner-up: "Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!" played during the closing credits.)

Many, many actors have played Ebenezer Scrooge. Not even counting all the various stage productions featuring the likes of Patrick Stewart, the movies and TV alone have brought us dozens, including George C. Scott, Bill Murray, Michael Caine, Albert Finney, Kelsey Grammer, Jack Palance, Jim Backus and Scrooge McDuck. It says a lot, then, that Alastair Sim is widely considered the best Scrooge of them all. And the film that he starred in, Brian Desmond Hurst's Scrooge -- released in 1951 in the U.S. as A Christmas Carol -- is likewise the definitive film adaptation.

Sim is known for this role above all; his only other two roles of note came in Alfred Hitchcock's Stage Fright (1950) and Peter Medak's The Ruling Class (1972). For one thing, Sim looks like Scrooge as Dickens might have imagined him; he has a kind of sour, pointy mouth and sunken, dagger-like eyes. His body is stovepipe lanky, and his wiry, white hair flies off in frightening angles. For another, he seems to understand Scrooge at some core level. Rather than a being of pure evil, this Scrooge comes from a place of sadness, loss, anger and regret. In one great scene, Scrooge has left the office on Christmas Eve and stops at a tavern for his meal. He orders more bread, but when he finds out that it will cost extra, he decides against it. His expression after the waiter leaves is nearly broken, crushed, as if that bread might have brought him his final bid at happiness.

I can tell you a thousand things that Scrooged, director Richard Donner's 1988 updating of A Christmas Carol, gets wrong. It features Bobcat Goldthwait, for one example; it's silly and sketchy and has the attention span of a fruit fly, for another. Carol Kane's Ghost of Christmas Present is amusing for a millisecond and annoying for every moment thereafter. The script veers between brilliance and bathos, there's at least four too many sub-plots and the film is littered with those little Donner touches -- left-leaning posters as set dressing, acting in his own film -- that mark Donner as one of the more competent and terrifying hacks of our time.

But there's one thing that Scrooged gets right -- and indeed, it gets that one thing so right, that moment of perfection turns it from a diverting cable standby to compulsory holiday viewing. Mitch Glazer and Michael O'Donoghue's script gives a modern makeover to Dickens's classic story, and also mocks the Scrooge tale even as it re-enacts it. Frank Cross (Bill Murray), the youngest network president in the history of television, is harried and hateful as the holiday approaches; his network's spending $40 million on a live production of A Christmas Carol (which, for some reason, the film calls "Scrooge") that'll run Christmas Eve. The live shoot is going to be a mess: Buddy Hackett's playing Scrooge, and isn't great with his lines, at one point asking in dress rehearsal "Why am I surrounded by these sea urchins?" John Houseman's doing the narration; Mary Lou Retton is playing Tiny Tim. It's going to be horrible. And, most importantly to Frank, profitable.

I entirely sympathize with people that complain about the press (or bloggers or fanboys or "the Internet community") over-hyping certain movies because I feel the same way about holiday flicks in general. It's like the "Small World" ride/attraction at Disneyland: the first time you hear "It's a Small World," you think, "OK, fairly inoffensive little song, nice message, good for the kids" but by the end of the ride -- and the 50 millionth rendition -- you want to take a baseball bat to all the speakers in the vicinity and, oh yeah, smash yourself over the head too, to properly bid the song good riddance.

That's just me, though. I realize I may be walking out onto a plank solo with my choices, but these are the holiday movies for which I've developed an unreasoning, out of proportion hatred -- the mere mention of which drives me insane. In some cases I've tried to watch them, sometimes repeatedly, to see what others enjoy so much, but I'm afraid it's a lost cause. Apologies in advance if you're offended; please don't take it as a rejection of your values, morals, or good sense. These are not reviews, they are notes on films I couldn't finish or simply hate on principle. For the record, I don't have a knee-jerk reaction to ALL holiday movies, or movies set during the holidays; I came to enjoy most of It's a Wonderful Life (up to that sentimental ending with James Stewart running down the street), and really dig The Nightmare Before Christmas, Gremlins, Die Hard, and Lethal Weapon.

1. A Christmas Story

I've tried, I've tried, I've tried. I've started at the beginning, I've come back in the middle, I've come back near the end, and the charms of this film still elude me. All due respect to the late Jean Sheperd, but how does his voice not drive you folks up the wall? To me, he sounds like nails on a chalkboard. And he never shuts up! Combined with the kid's unrelenting desire for a BB gun, it just seems to me like one long whine for a present. In general, the tone is far too precious for me. Maybe I heard too many stories from my father about growing up in poverty during the 1930s to enjoy a warm-hearted family tale set in the 1940s. (For an entirely different perspective, read why my boss thinks you should watch it for 24 hours straight.)

Legendary performer Robert Goulet died yesterday morning at the age of 73. Goulet was hospitalized last month in Las Vegas, where he was diagnosed with idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis, a rare but rapidly progressive condition. The crooner passed away while awaiting a lung transplant at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles. He failed to meet the criteria for the transplant. His physician, Doctor David Kipper, says Goulet was surrounded by his family at the time of his death. Goulet's wife of 25 years, Vera, tells CNN he was in good spirits to the end, telling doctors "Just watch my vocal cords" right before they inserted a breathing tube.

Goulet gained international fame in 1960 playing Sir Lancelot in Broadway's Camelot, with Richard Burton and Julie Andrews. His popularity grew through Las Vegas concerts and performances on programs like The Ed Sullivan Show. Many in my generation know Goulet best for his tongue-in-cheek comedic performances. Goulet played a role in several of my favorite comedies -- he was Maxie Dean in Beetlejuice, pitch-perfect as the villainous Quentin Hapsburg in The Naked Gun 2 1/2, and had a hilarious guest bit in Scrooged. He was also the singing voice of Wheezy the Penguin in Toy Story 2, and sang at Bart's treehouse casino on an episode of The Simpsons. And of course, the guy became hip all over again when Will Ferrell started doing an insane Goulet impression on Saturday Night Live. In fact, this Goulet sketch -- "Red Ships of Spain" -- is responsible for the hardest laughter I have ever experienced.

He will be missed. Head over to Goulet's personal website for more information.

Everyone is familiar with Carol Kane. But from where or from what do they remember her best? The actress has stolen scenes in so many films that you could have a room of twenty people and each person might choose a different title she's most memorable in. She's played so many types -- quiet and loud; cute and sexy and plain and creepy; young and very, very old -- it is amazing that she can sustain such easy recognition. Perhaps it is her tired, Bette Davis eyes. In a non-physical way, it is her distinct voice, of course, which people recall.

She held her own in early, small parts opposite Al Pacino, Woody Allen and Jack Nicholson before landing one of her few leading roles in the original When a Stranger Calls, where her ageless face allowed her to play her character as a teenager and an adult. She spent a season on the TV-show Taxi, though her presence was so huge it feels like she appeared throughout its five years. In My Blue Heaven, she had little to do, but she still left a mark with her swooning reception of one of the greatest pick up lines ever. She beat up Bill Murray with a toaster in Scrooged, called Billy Crystal a LIAR!!!! in The Princess Bride and most recently went AWOL on Vin Diesel in The Pacifier, leaving him alone to care for the film's children and deliver its comedy (he succeeds only in the former).

One film, a guilty pleasure of mine, for which Kane is not usually remembered, is License to Drive. Personally I think of her most fondly in that film, playing Corey Haim's pregnant mother. In fact, take out all those scenes with Corey and Corey, and you've got a great little maternity short starring her and Richard Masur. The role has a beautiful build-up, and it displays nearly all of Kane's traits and trademarks, allowing her to start out simple and finish with a tremendous bang.