Best Christmas Films? No light without darkness

 

Best Christmas Films? No light without darkness

The majority of Christmas films are gaudy, commercial and overly sentimental. They purport to tell us what true happiness is, but how can this be known without knowing the absence of it? The best seasonal films acknowledge some of the pain of real life as well as universal aspirations for joy, and go against the grain in terms of traditional and specific notions of family and harmony. Instead, they embrace the potential for comfort in what we actually have, however small and imperfect that may be.

Conversely, the best Christmas films either deal with a darker interpretation of the season or are at least tinged with something less simplistically joyful to the sentimentalised ideal. Please see below:

1.                   A Christmas Story (1983)

This was a revelation to me when I recorded it from television many years ago based on nothing more than a 4-star rating in the Radio Times, but this film is so beloved in America that there is a channel showing it 24 hours a day around Christmas. I limit my viewing of it far more with the aim of preserving the sanctity of a very precious thing, but I cannot praise it highly enough as the ultimate Christmas film. A seemingly simple and under-assuming story of a boy who wants a BB gun for Christmas in the 1940s, it tracks the everyday travails of lower middle class family life with exquisite charm and humour throughout. Based on radio DJ Jean Shepherd’s musings and life stories, further reading on his philosophy that consumerism merely taps in to desires that are already there rather than imposing drives and wants in to innocent beings can be found here: https://lareviewofbooks.org/article/betrayal-jean-shepherd-and-a-christmas-story/

2.                   Black Christmas (1974)

Inexplicably, the best family Christmas film and the scariest horror film were directed by the same man and both are set in what should be the most merry of seasons. Bob Clark is a director that deserves more attention - see https://www.popmatters.com/bob-clark-films-2646125288.html for suggestions of a surprisingly influential filmmaker. Black Christmas is considered by those in the know to be the true benchmark American slasher film, coming four years before Halloween and providing such inspiration to John Carpenter that Clark apparently advised him. It may seem ridiculous to try and find auteuristic similarities between this and A Christmas Story however, both are shot in a low-key Clarksian style with relatable characters and the same warm, grainy aesthetic that creates nostalgia in A Christmas Story but that becomes perversely warped in Black Christmas. In the latter, a serial killer is picking off sorority girls one by one at Christmas in the creepiest way imaginable, making the most hideously weirdo prank calls in between murders. And aside from its seasonal context, it’s a classy horror with interesting, sometimes tough female characters including Margot Kidder and Olivia Hussey, an old movie that set a tone before the cliché became one of busty screamers and contrived slaughterhouse plots.

3.                   It’s a Wonderful Life (1946)

Frank Capra’s rightful classic exudes small town, anti-capitalist values with endearing, old school charm and is propelled by performances led by expert everyman James Stewart. It’s the opposite of A Christmas Carol in that an exceptionally good man rather than a bad one has to be taken in hand by supernatural forces to save himself and a community. For a film hailed as the ultimate Christmas movie it’s incredibly dark, dealing with various issues that are potentially life-sinking in reality, and in fact the whole story is built around a prospective suicide. It’s crushingly heart-breaking pretty much from the get go – at the corner of every happy moment is a tragedy to the point you could cry throughout the whole damned thing. But trust me, if you are willing to take the rough with the smooth, it’s worth it. Hot dog!

Spoiler alert - it drifts slightly at the end and is disappointing when George sees Mary as – yarg! an unmarried woman wearing glasses and working in a library!? - as the terrible outcome if George had never lived. Gratefully though, it’s a minor blip that we can overlook in an otherwise truly wonderful film.

4.    Scrooged (1988)

The 1980s TV exec context is cleverly utilised for a re-examination of the morals of A Christmas Carol, whereby a man with wealth and power achieved by cold-blooded heartlessness is forced to confront himself and the impact of his actions on others.

Although Scrooged seems to have divided critics since it’s release – and Bill Murray himself has derided it – there are those who feel it has become a Christmas classic, and I’m unashamedly one of them. Marking a sensational comeback after a four-year hiatus following Ghostbusters, it’s right up there with Groundhog Day as an excellent showcase for the Murray brand of sarcastic wit that he balances impressively well with the more sentimental side of things. Highlights are an endearing love story and nice chemistry with Karen Allen as the girlfriend, a host of cameos including Robert Mitchum and David Johansen of New York Dolls, the tear-jerking fate of a homeless man, and a ball busting fairy who makes sure Frank feels some of the pain he causes others. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, Yule love it!

5.    Carol (2015)

Meticulous in period detail while also a very grown-up Christmas film for the modern age, this is also my second favourite film directed by Todd Haynes behind Safe. A key auteur from the 1990s American indie era, Haynes’ characteristic subtlety and empathy reaches its peak in this Patricia Highsmith adaptation of a love affair between a young shop girl and a wealthy older woman in the 1940s. Beautiful cinematography with performances that are affecting in their delicate, restrained power assist a story loaded with heartbreak and poignancy. And in a film so decorated with the trappings of the Christmas period, it is profoundly meaningful that the big day itself passes without acknowledgement, appropriately denying the hypocrisy of a celebration built around being with the ones you love when our heroines are denied it themselves.

6.            Tangerine (2015)

Pretty much the ultimate anti-Christmas film in that, although it takes place on Christmas Eve, aesthetically and thematically it goes against everything apparently held dear in terms of the traditional wintry, family-affirming ideal. Here instead we have the non-travails of two transgender prostitutes trawling the Strip in sun-baked LA as recorded via smartphone by excellent American indie filmmaker, Sean Baker. Swear-ridden and frankly depicting street-bought sex, it is refreshing in its address to the experiences of those not normally featured in holiday fare, but also in its humour and a finale in which not everything is tied up in a happy bow. The warm feelings do come for anyone who understands outsider-ness, and from an ending where the two leads share a quietly powerful moment in which true friendship - defiant in the face of poverty, social status and heterosexual-based family orientation – wins out.

 

 

7.            Gremlins

This is the unusual story of a Christmas present delivered to an adult child, and one in which seasonal merriment is all but destroyed by the deviousness of some small but extremely destructive creatures. Set in a Bedford Falls-esque scenario, a young, small-town man receives from his failing inventor father a Mogwai, a cute critter sold to him by the young grandson of a Chinese man, and all is adorable until the rules that must be followed when caring for the strange animal are broken - then all hell breaks loose. A stand-out scene is Billy’s mother defending her kitchen and home with the bravery and ruthlessness of any domestic warrior queen. Massively Christmassy but with some very dark twists on the season as well as on the small town, family-oriented backdrop in typical Joe Dante-fashion, it’s now an iconic ‘80s classic and cult Christmas favourite.

8.            The Snowman

Another 80s childhood favourite in a far more wistful sense, this one brings with it an ocean of tears like the one James and his wonderful snowman friend fly over in the iconic scene. Delightfully sketchy in its hand-drawn animation aesthetics and cosily ordinary in its quintessential Englishness - even a woolly jumper-clad David Bowie in the haunting introduction – The Snowman has come to perfectly represent the poignancy of disappointment as it comes so hard on the heels of fleetingly transcendent joy.

9.            Die Hard (1988)

“Yippee ki-yay mother****er!” This one’s for grown-ups only - the dark side of Die Hard is that it is a classic 80s trigger happy and tongue-in-cheek action movie in its approach to rampant violence, but it’s also some of the most fun you can have watching a Christmas film. Bruce Willis as John McClane is an unashamed throwback to all all-American tough guy movie heroes who get shit done against all the odds, taking on villainous Europeans, a building under construction, as well as dumbass police chiefs and stoopid, suit-wearing FBI agents. Just as quotable and iconic is the excellent Alan Rickman as Hans Gruber, the German nemesis looking to rob a whole load of bearer bonds by staging what he had hoped would be a quietly elaborate siege on an office block until New York cop McClane singlehandedly makes himself a serious fly in the ointment. It’s actually really smart stuff, directed with visual style by John McTiernan and featuring assured, compelling performances by all. And it gave birth to the best Christmas jumper ever.

10.          Edward Scissorhands

If there are both horrors and pleasures to be found in either city living or suburban dwelling at Christmas or otherwise, the worst of small-town existence is brought to the fore in this now classic modern fairy tale from Tim Burton at his very best. Here the small-town community is ultimately dastardly, intolerant of otherness when it no longer suits its own purposes and presented in ghastly hues of pastel horror in contrast to the gentle Goth boy Edward, who is ushered in to town by twinkly, well-meaning Dianne Wiest. Brought in to being by inventor Vincent Price as a vulnerable, caring and creative humanoid with ‘hands’ that suggest the complete opposite – elaborate and savagely sharp giant scissors – Edward’s accidental weapons are first used to the delight of the townsfolk he arrives in the realm of before hysterical small-mindedness turns the former welcomers in to a witch-hunting mob. Johnny Depp is perhaps underrated for conveying so subtly well a sense of Edward’s capacity for love, sorrow and burgeoning humanity underneath the make-up and Robert Smith hair, before he’s so emphatically rejected by the comparatively weird community at the bottom of the hill his gothic mansion home sits atop. There is also wry humour peppered throughout, but a haunting and mournfully beautiful Danny Elfman score, along with visions of snowy heartache make for an exquisitely bittersweet Christmas classic.

11.          Home Alone

The respective heroes of Home Alone and A Christmas Story are strangely similar in that both are cute blonde little boys whose wants and desires are frustrated by adults, and both imagine themselves far more capable in life than any of said adults give them credit for. The crucial difference is that trying and failing is an inevitable and relentless part of life in A Christmas Story, whereas in Home Alone, Kevin gives us an emphatic demonstration of how, with enough tenacity and optimism, he can successfully triumph over those who would doubt or even destroy him.

Like many of my generation, I can’t help but have fondness for the film – it has a masterful soundtrack that is now iconic and inextricably linked with the season; visually, it exudes Christmas in spades with the warm glow of lights and cosy interiors contrasting with Christmas card snow scenes that invite serious sledding and decent-sized snowmen. And there is also some humorously authentic family discontent. However, as much as we celebrate the courage and ingenuity of little Kevin fending off the dastardly burglars in the final showdown, I always felt there was something a bit deranged about the super-violence he visits upon them. Inspired by the article on Jean Shepherd mentioned above and also this one on Home Alone - https://www.vice.com/en/article/8gkbjg/americas-favorite-child-soldier-home-alone-25-years-later  - it occurred to me that Ralphie’s fantasy in A Christmas Story of what he could achieve if he had a toy gun versus Kevin’s reality of the power he wields when literally armed in Home Alone is like comparing a form of liberal nihilism with the post-Reaganistic optimism referenced in the Vice article. The latter also makes interesting points about the dubious underlying class/racial issues detectable in John Hughes’ films generally, here identified as depicting Harry and Marv - respectively Italian-American and Jew - as grubby and despicable in contrast to the bickering but otherwise clean and New Money-rich McAllister family. Ultimately for me, Home Alone is a guilty pleasure, but give me the school of futility (in which one’s most fervent desires are rarely realised as one would want) in A Christmas Story over the playpen of triumph in Home Alone any day.

12.          Batman Returns

Tim Burton again and, like Die Hard, not so much a Christmas film as one that happens to be set at Christmas, Batman Returns utilises many holiday hallmarks in delightfully twisted ways. Snowy and present-filled, the context of Burton’s excellent Batman sequel only supports the loneliness, discontent and family fuck-ups of the Christmas experience suffered by many/some (delete as you see fit): the Penguin emerges to avenge his parental abandonment and Catwoman spits angrily in the eye of cosily celebratory hypocrisy in a movie where a huge bow-adorned gift offers violent carnage and a light switch-on results in crowd-viewed beauty queen assassination. It sounds disturbing but it really is a lot of fun – Burton before he and the world became so oppressively family friendly.

13.          Holiday Affair (1949)

Just as director Todd Haynes showed his appreciation for classic Hollywood melodrama in his tribute to Douglas Sirk’s All That Heaven Allows with Far From Heaven, it seems likely that he was familiar with Holiday Affair when making Carol. Carol is effectively the gay Holiday Affair – in both, a romance begins in the toy section of a department store at Christmas where the beautiful mother of a young child comes in to buy a train set from the salesperson who will trouble her prospective future with a more conventional, dependable lover. In Holiday Affair, the latter is a lawyer offering financial stability to war widow and single mother Connie (Janet Leigh), and is set up against the wry and naturally perceptive charm of rival Robert Mitchum as Steve Davis, a free-wheeling and charming bum with dreams of boat building in a role aimed at tempering real-life Mitchum’s marijuana-bust controversy by appearing in family-friendly fare. A Christmas romance with various twists and turns, it’s classy stuff thanks to the performances and chemistry between the leads, (spoiler alert) and a conversation between Connie and Steve about the train set he buys for her son again calls to mind Carol and its happy ending:

Connie:  But he shouldn’t feel that he’ll always get everything he wants.

Steve:  Well not always, no. But every now and then so that he’ll know that these things can happen.

14.          Remember the Night (1940)

Classic Hollywood doing it interestingly again in a Preston Sturges scripted film starring Barbara Stanwyck. She’s typically gutsy and problematic as a thief who ends up spending Christmas with the guy who will be prosecuting her once the holidays are over. Difference is that the film deals with her more empathetically than in her typical roles as femme fatale, and she shows she can deliver vulnerability as well as playing the diva, maybe even better. Nice chemistry between her and Fred MacMurray in the first of their pairings that would be repeated in the classic noir Double Indemnity, as he plays a guy from the same part of the country as her but with a loving upbringing unlike her own youth with a cold, judgemental mother. For once the period of inactivity between Christmas and New Year when usually nothing useful gets done performs the perfect function of bringing these two opposites together in heart-wrenchingly romantic fashion.

15.          Meet Me in St Louis

The most sentimental Christmas moment that has me properly booing is the scene in this film where Judy Garland sings ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’, but again perhaps because of the melancholy behind her sad reassurances to a little sister crying at the thought of moving away from their beloved city. It’s a film that actually moves through all four of the seasons, but the winter scenes are at Christmas and form the crucial turning point in the fates of the Smith family in this vivid classic musical from Vincente Minelli.

 

 

Killers of the Flower Moon (2023)

 

Killers of the Flower Moon (2023)

Director: Martin Scorsese

Stars: Leonardo Dicaprio, Lily Gladstone, Robert De Niro

Short Review, no spoilers

Although unmistakeably Martin Scorsese in style, this is a distinctly serious film from the veteran director as he takes on a true story of outrageous injustice as visited on the Osage Indian community in 1920s Oklahoma. What is unusual about this as a Scorsese movie however, is that there is a love story at the heart of it. Not only that but it is a challenging, thoughtfully played out and well performed romance by stars Leonardo Dicaprio and Lily Gladstone.

An important and impressive film even if it does lag disappointingly at the end.

 

Full Review (spoilers)

Despite perhaps still being best known for his iconic gangster films, Martin Scorsese has actually taken on an eclectic range of subjects in his long career. The exploitation and murder of Native Americans in Killers of the Flower Moon is a daring one in that it is a conversation still not had often enough. However, it does suggest a continuation of Scorsese’s interest in early days white America-building as seen in Gangs of New York, delving in to pockets of the past with meticulous attention to detail to depict times that were brutal and morally conflicted – as if they were so different now … Both films also revolve around the story of a grapple for power headed up by white men that are sociopathic in their obsession to obtain it. Robert De Niro’s Bill Hail is in fact arguably more despicable than any of Scorsese’s mobsters to the point that his dastardly dealings almost make Henry Hill and co.’s look like scampish antics.

Although Scorsese once again casts A-list muse Leonardo Dicaprio in the lead role, his is one half of a relatively unglamorous couple as far as Hollywood goes, with Dicaprio playing an uncharacteristically dumbed down doof, while Lily Gladstone is a beauty of the natural kind as well as the very image of serene stoicism. The matching up of Earnest and Molly is curiously endearing and Gladstone makes it believable that she would fall for such a dumbass who, in spite of his clumsy ways has a certain cheeky charm that she can’t help falling for. Although cinemagoers might see an uglified Dicaprio, Molly sees a handsome man and their relationship comes together in convincing fashion, even as Earnest would appear to be punching way above his weight. Dicaprio often plays chilly, intense men but the warmth drawn out in this unusual role for him is an interesting diversion and aided in no small part from co-star Gladstone.

Not for the first time, Scorsese presents us with a complex anti-hero but Earnest has got to be one of the most challenging to sympathise with. Herein lies the brilliance of how he is depicted however. Even mugging, grave-robbing, assisting in murders (including those of Molly’s entire family), as well as poisoning the wife he apparently loves, you still get the sense that he doesn’t fully comprehend what it is that he himself is doing, that he really is that dumb. All of it is orchestrated by his uncle, Bill Hail, but it just goes to show that the stupid man is as dangerous as the man who manipulates him. As wholly depressing as it is, it is important to bear witness to Hail’s utter lack of morality, as he kills and keeps alive to suit his purposes rampantly and with a disturbingly pure sense of entitlement. As is his way, Scorsese pulls no punches when it comes to the casually inflicted violence that certain men are capable of.

Once established, dramatic tension is built when threats to Hail’s stranglehold begin to emerge. There’s the seemingly insipid Bill Smith, a ‘rabbit’ in the eyes of his wife, and whose own moral judgement is somewhat in question after he quietly marries her sister soon after the death of said wife. He is surprisingly intrepid however in investigating the growing number of murders among Osage natives, and goes on to demonstrate boldness in the face of a sneering Earnest. The double murder of Smith and his wife is nasty but at least is a significant contribution to the mounting evidence when Hail’s schemes begin to crumble. Other members of the town begin to show resistance also – when a ‘suicide’ goes wrong and Hail tries to implicate a local shopkeeper by encouraging him to run from suspicious law enforcement, the man calmly declares that he’s staying put and that he is no friend of Hail’s. Following a visit to Washington, it seems that the efforts of Molly and the Osage elders to request help have been futile until a team of the newly born FBI assisted by a charismatic Indian from another tribe turn up to investigate. Scorsese carefully and intelligently skirts a patronising white man saviour narrative though by portraying the agents as dry and seemingly benign professionals rather than glorified heroes. This also serves as a pleasing contrast with the visible panic in Hail and Earnest as they gradually get their comeuppance. However, just as the tide is beginning to turn, the brakes are put on for some reason and the action begins to grind at a frustratingly slow pace. Points are laboured and needlessly spelled out, and Earnest’s interrogation scene is inexplicably lengthy just as things should be gathering pace. After a time, the film picks up slightly and interest is maintained by seeing just how much the marvel that is Molly will forgive.

Despite the flabby ending, Killers of the Flower Moon is an admirable and compelling film and a welcome addition to the still too few stories that address ongoing Native American injustice. On a side note that is worthy of mention, it features the last (and best?) soundtrack by long time Scorsese collaborator Robbie Robertson before his death very shortly before the film’s release. It literally provides the heartbeat of the film, realised so well perhaps because of the personal investment Robertson had in the project. Of Native American descent himself, Robertson had spoken of his delight at Scorsese’s decision to explore the subject, and his creation of a mix of bluegrass and un-cliched Native American sounds is masterful throughout. A highlight of artistic unity is the moment early on when young male Osage Indians dance in a well spring of black oil to a thumping tribal drum beat and wry electric guitar riff.  It’s a moment of celebration pitch perfectly attuned to the original master of dark coolness in the context of archly ironic social context.