Audiences who click play on Netflix’s “Falling for Christmas” will be the ones doing most of the falling over Lindsay Lohan’s much-anticipated comeback vehicle. Director Janeen Damian’s light-hearted feature, centered on a spoiled hotel heiress tumbling into a character-enriching circumstance, isn’t necessarily served up as the average cup of holiday cheer and rom-com charm. There’s a lot more to it than that. Its subversive spirit, female-forward smarts and sweet sentimentality remix the formulaic and festive, making all things merry and bright. 

Wealthy, pampered heiress Sierra Belmont (Lohan) plans to spend a snow-blanketed Christmas at her father’s (Jack Wagner) exclusive ski resort with her narcissistic, social media-obsessed beau, Tad Fairchild (George Young). She anticipates being offered a job by her dad as the property’s “Vice President of Atmosphere” to give her something to do rather than spend her days idly drowning in champagne, caviar and couture. But she’s unsure of the position, because deep down she knows it’s not her purpose. She considers becoming an influencer like Tad, who pressures her to be yet another one of his accessories — leading her to say yes to a mountaintop marriage proposal.

However, fate intervenes in the form of a catastrophic fall, leaving Tad knocked out on one side of the mountain and Sierra with a concussion on the other. Lucky for her, widowed single dad Jake Russell (Chord Overstreet) passes by and rescues her. Suffering from severe amnesia with no ID, Sierra’s in a bind. Being the kindhearted guy he is, Jake volunteers to shelter this lost soul at his modest family inn — along with his mother-in-law Alejandra (Alejandra Flores) and precocious daughter Avy (Olivia Perez) — until someone comes to claim Sierra. His business is struggling due to his competition and a desperate need for repairs. His personal life needs fixing, too, since he’s still grieving the loss of his wife. As her hotel magnate father and Tad search for her, Sierra is determined to be a blessing not a blight, and winds up transforming the place in more ways than one.

Damian and screenwriters Jeff Bonnett and Ron Oliver (working from a story by Bonnett) have figured out how to deliver an unproblematic twist on “Overboard,” a genre staple whose premise amounts to blatantly gaslighting someone with a traumatic brain injury. Even its 2018 remake had trouble untangling that. Here, because the subjects don’t recognize each other from their disastrous meet-cute, there are never any deceitful shenanigans afoot. Still, while he provides some comic relief and Young adds delightful depth to his shallow character, the material struggles to incorporate him properly, and the audience isn’t sure whether to love him, loathe him, or love to loathe him.

Despite its first act telegraphing too much via expository dialogue, the rest of the script weaves together subtleties that light up magically throughout. Sierra’s journey from selfish to selfless takes poignant turns. From the start, she exhibits a modicum of humanity and self-awareness — though not entirely, so we sense her ensuing arc will be gentle, yet still meaningful. Her character’s internal and external stakes are well-defined and motivated from within, and she doesn’t need much encouragement from the male protagonist to change. Jake experiences a complementary change in that he’s tasked to let go of grief and pride. Their shared trauma, bonding over their respective families’ deceased matriarchs, is sincere and moving, with an angel tree-topper symbolizing grief: once shoved into a dark drawer, but inevitably brought into the light.

Lohan gives her character, who in lesser hands could have been one-note, a soulful sense of humor, vulnerability and verve. She’s hilarious when tasked to play completely insufferable, flexing her comedic muscularity when pratfalling over a Barcalounger or down a slick set of stairs. Yet she’s also delicately faceted when melancholic moments arise. She has terrific chemistry with Perez in scenes that unlock the material’s resonant tenderness and heartfelt sentiments. Overstreet turns in subtle, understated work, nimbly leaning into the jokes as well as the affecting aspects.

Clever homages to Lohan’s oeuvre, referencing “Mean Girls” (where she sings “Jingle Bell Rock”) and “Just My Luck” (where her attempt at doing laundry leads to washing machine hijinks) are used sparingly, so it’s her new, snappy and vibrant work that excels. It’s a promising step for a possible “Lohanaissance” — this is the first of two Lohan projects Netflix has greenlit — and it feels like the perfect seasonal gift, seeing her wield the skill and wit for which she’s widely known whilst craftily fashioning a character whose journey towards a second chance at life genuinely delivers the goods.