Something to do with the combination of dark nights, fairy lights, jingly sleigh-bell music and heavy-rotation advertising going on in the background means there’s a palpable whiff of greasy hysteria in the air. A feeling that everything’s about to shut down and hibernate, so you’ve got to get your oar in now while there’s still time. It’s all bells and tinsel and unhinged grinning urgency. No wonder Die Hard was set at Christmas. Watching Bruce Willis crashing through windows and machine-gunning terrorists would have seemed downright boring if he’d been doing it on pancake day.