...in short, no.
If you re-phrase the question as: "Is the M&S Christmas advert and all others like it, a tiresome load of old cock and balls?" then the answer has to be a resounding yes. 99.999999% of people's Christmas' don't end up being warmly log-fired and mistletoed. The reality is that it's far more likely to be alcohol-soaked, expensive, tacky and stressful.
Obviously it's nice to see and spend some time with family, and get a couple of days off work. It's all the unnecessary hype and nostalgia-based advertsing at this time of year that can so easily drive one to take strong drink before the yardarm has been so much as graced by the sun.
Christmas-scented Glade plug-ins.? Everyone knows that the real fragrance of Christmas can so easily be cold sprouts, stale sherry and elder relative's even staler farts – and there's no amount of touch 'n' fresh that can conceal that.
Ad-land also seems to suggest that we should all be attending a myriad of parties at this time of year; if you haven't been invited to one of these mythical parties (and my bet is that you haven't – these parties seem to only exist in the mind of creatives and advertising executives) you may - assuming that you've had a very sharp blow to the head and your sense of reality chip has got inextricably re-wired to your hopeless optimism chip - still wish to put on a spread and host a gaggle of neighbours and vile work colleagues at your house.
A successful party requires two things: strong drink (and lots of it) and a certain amount of food - you've invited these braying gits so now you're duty bound to feed them something. Poncey canapes from M&S are expensive, and Waitrose wouldn't give people like you the time of day; so, why not give your guests a real treat and get the lot from Iceland? That's what thingy-Katona and one of the Nolan Sisters do. No really, despite the fact that they're celebrities of a sort and earn much more than you and I, they really do shop at the infamous freezer superstore; grubbing about in the permafrost for a £1 frozen pack of assorted chicken niblets 'n' giblets.
Dear old Iceland (formerly Beejam – am I showing my age yet?), for the second year in a row are insisting on peddling frozen KING PRAWN FUCKING SPOONS; which - if you haven't worked it out yet - is a king prawn in a manky sauce on an individual BLACK PLASTIC FUCKING SPOON. Very classy. If you buy a packet of those, you're a twat and deserve to be wrapped in crepe paper and "pulled" by two JCBs – like a giant, dur-brained, christmas cracker.
Don't succumb to all of this shit; the ads are simply harking back to previous Christmas's that didn't ever really happen - they're just figments in the imagination of some awful ad bloke called Jake, Joe, Piers or something. Do Christmas the way you want to do it - spend some time with your real friends and family, cook some real food (even if it is a complete pain in the arse to peel, scrub and piss about with) take some time off and relax.
And if anyone asks where you got the food, say you bought the lot pre-prepared at M&S - which, at least, means it'll get eaten...