Good/Bad Christmas Movies
Enjoying the nonsense of Christmas magic.
I haven’t watched a ton of holiday movies this year. We’ve had some busy weekends. There aren’t a lot of new movies this year because of the writer and actors’ strikes. And for me, the ongoing genocidal violence makes it a hard to lean into sillier Hallmark type movies (which I do sometimes enjoy). I did find a couple of Christmas movies I was in the mood for and it got me thinking about what makes a good holiday movie – one that you come back to year after year.
Christmas movies operate outside of the rules of most other genres. We’re not looking for action or horror or historical drama. A Christmas movie is all about the the schmaltz. We’re cooking with sugar. In a holiday movie, or holiday song for that matter, I can forgive dialogue and phrases that would seem unforgivably cheesy anywhere else.
“God bless us, every one.” “Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings.” “The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.”
I think part of why the sentimentality flies in the face of logic, is that in the best of these stories, the characters also face darkness. George Bailey loses everything. Kevin McCallister lost his family. Whatever Jude Law’s character’s name is in The Holiday is, is a widower. We’ll gladly watch him dance around because we also saw him cry. And if you’re someone who likes Christmas movies, you’re probably crying too.
One movie I keep coming back to is The Family Stone. On the surface this movie makes very little sense. Everyone seems like they were cast in a different movie. But (spoiler alert) they’re about to lose someone they love and that’s all we need to know to empathize with their strange choices and over-the-top performances.
You can’t think too hard about the plot in a Christmas movie. Like how someone could ditch the person they thought they were gonna marry and fall in love with that person’s sister after a couple hours with her. Don’t worry about how a 19th century Jeff Bezos could just wake up to the error of his ways in a few hours. You just have to go along with it, because of Christmas.
With all this suspension of disbelief in holiday movies, I think we also have a higher tolerance for hijinks. I don’t always love a comedy of errors where one painful moment follows another endlessly, but there is something to be said for a well-timed fail, in a movie that’s balanced with heartfelt holiday themes.
When George Bailey falls in the swimming pool, it’s not just a gag, it’s a guy who’s depressed about life and managed to get out of the house and then was able to laugh when it all went to shit anyways. Good Christmas movies follow people who are undergoing an existential crisis. They’re not affluent sitcom families bickering over what type of pie to make. They’re throwing up their hands at the absurdity of things, in spite of life’s real tragedies. We can laugh at Sarah Jessica Parker’s character (you don’t remember these names either so it would be nonsensical for me to track them down) spilling strata all over herself because we know that’s the least of these people’s problems. We’re okay with Kevin slamming paint cans into robbers because a few minutes earlier he was a sad little boy, alone in church.
I think we tap into something primitive this time of year that goes back further than the Christian overtones added later. For as long as people have lived in cold climates, this time of year has meant an increasing visibility of death. People had to transition from harvest festivals, to psyching themselves up for the long winter. The shortest day of the year, on the solstice, is often a celebration of the longer days to come.
It’s a grief heavy time of year. You can’t count the passage of time and traditions without noticing who is missing and what has been lost. All things must die, but somehow life continues on.
I think that’s why we desire such a thing as “Christmas magic.” These movies are about the sparks of hope, synchronicity, and luck that keep us going. For Scrooge, George Bailey, and Mary Steenburgen’s mom character in One Magic Christmas, there are moments of divine intervention that have no worldly explanation. We need a little bit of that, not because we’re detached from reality, but because reality can feel so bleak without it.
For weeks, I’ve been trying to find a gingerbread house kit for the kids after my son asked for one. I waited too long and stores were sold out. I didn’t have it in me to construct my own from scratch, even though I’d already bought extra candy to decorate it. Today, I went to the dollar store for more wrapping paper. They were sold out. Instead, they’d started stocking candy for Valentine’s Day and Easter. It felt like a reminder that we’re living on an endless hamster wheel of consumerism. I was starting to feel a little Grinchy.
“So this is Christmas?” “Isn’t there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?” “Bah, humbug!”
Then on a shelf, I saw it – a gingerbread house kit that I wasn’t even looking for. A little part of Christmas was saved!
Anyways, I’m sending you good will and hopefully a couple dumb movies, even if you’re still in your Scrooge era. Happy holidays!