The Narrative of Nine: Christmas Movies
How (and why) these nine Christmas movies make my yearly rewatch list.
Introduction
I am a big fan of lists. Nothing excites me more than having an organized view of items to eventually check off. Whether it is my obsessive compulsive traits or the desire to get things done, a satisfying source of peace for me is to have a plan in place. The relief of saving myself from the inevitable internal battle of decision-making, often prolonged with my proclivity to overthink, is at the foundation of any list I compile.
I know I am not unique in this approach. While some may be less extreme, and others could be even more so, there are a wide range of categories a list can be associated with. For example, what often saves us from overspending at the grocery store is holding ourselves to what is on our grocery list. This is one common example of a reasonable purpose behind a list creation. One that may be less common can be found on my phone’s notes section. It is titled “movies to watch.” Its purpose is self-explanatory … a list of movies that I have more or less assigned myself to watch or rewatch.
A majority of those included on my “movies to watch” list are ones I have yet to see and have heard enough about to pique my interest. Others on the list are those that, depending on the time of year, I will make a point to watch annually. Yes, there is a seasonal component to this. As I mentioned … obsessive compulsive. For example, there are certain movies with the fall season setting. Whether it is the outdoor environment or attire seen in the film, it gives off a certain feeling of fall. Some people are fine with experiencing this sensation as a movie viewer at any point in the year, regardless of the season. For me, however, there is no chance of this occurring. Movies set in the fall are to be viewed in the fall.
As odd as this self-imposed rule may sound, the vast majority of society seems to be in agreement when it comes to many holiday-related movies. Speaking of fall, it is at the beginning of this season when anticipation for the holidays are in full effect. For someone who considers the period of Thanksgiving and Christmas as their favorite time of year, the seasonal traditions associated with each holiday help provide a comforting sense of nostalgia. Holiday movies, specifically those centered around the Christmas season, are a key contributing factor. Incorporating my appreciation of lists, or should I say, my preference of order and detail, I began to compile a list of essential movies to rewatch during the Christmas season.
Maintaining my priority to have a sense of purpose and reason behind my choices, I make sure to eliminate any sense of randomization for these movies. Simply put, when creating my list of Christmas movies to watch, there is a certain order I keep. By establishing this in advance, I avoid the moment of wondering, “what movie to watch now?” I know myself well enough to grasp the amount of time I would waste in determining which movie to watch.
It is my goal to give you, dear reader, a glimpse of the movies on my list and the reason for this particular order. What helped me determine it was finding any hint of connectivity from one movie to the next. Some are obvious connections while others require a deeper look into the film’s narrative components. No matter how close the association is between each film, one commonality we can all understand is the strong role personal history plays into this entire discussion. Depending on the context of said history, our feelings will often be heavily swayed on both ends of the enjoyment spectrum.
I consider the experience of revisiting my personal history with these films as a worthwhile look into how each one has shaped me as a viewer. By exploring our interests, along with the “why” behind the choice to categorize them as such, I believe we can learn more about ourselves, the content we consume, and the power of storytelling.
Home Alone
In keeping with my approach to watching holiday movies in the proper order, it is important to first mention my yearly viewing of the classic Planes, Trains & Automobiles. It is the last film I watch before my Christmas movie rotation begins, and just so happens to have some ties to Home Alone. Planes, Trains & Automobiles is set around the Thanksgiving holiday, Home Alone is Christmas. The dilemma of unprecedented travel struggles associated with trying to make it back home in the days leading up to a major holiday is seen in both films. It is a time where it seems like everyone else in the world is rushing to do the same thing. When all hope seems to be lost for the businessman with a wife and kids waiting for his arrival (Planes, Trains), or a mother returning to her son who was left alone at home (Home Alone) , there is an essential character to intervene in each film. It just so happened to be played by the same actor, the brilliant, John Candy.
Both movies, written by John Hughes, contain the classic components that make his films special. While some of this begins on the pages of each script, Candy’s ability to make it come to life provides that comfortable and comedic sense of familiarity. While his role is only a scene-stealing cameo in Home Alone, his warmth and humor is able to ground the film. Seeing him show up to save the day, offering to give a ride to a mother in need of making it home, I cannot help but think of his starring role in Planes, Trains & Automobiles.
Though I now watch Home Alone after viewing Planes, Trains & Automobiles on the night before Thanksgiving, my history with Home Alone came long before ever seeing Planes, Trains. It was always deemed a must-watch during the days of the then ABC Family, now Freeform channel’s 25 Days of Christmas movie schedule. I was in the perfect range of age in my initial viewings. For the film to center around an 8-year-old, I was able to identify with the main character, Kevin Mcallister, very well. Being around that age myself, the journey of his character, kept me invested every moment he was on screen. Of course, the hijinks of defending his home from a couple of clumsy burglars with extensively-planned traps was as good as it got for an elementary-aged viewer. The resulting pratfalls seemed to make me laugh harder with every viewing.
As I grew older and maintained the annual rewatch routine, I began to acknowledge and appreciate some of the deeper components of the film. I eventually reached a season of life where the desire for isolation and independence was quite strong, as it was for Kevin McCallister. His “I’m living alone!” chant is one I still connect with to this day. I eventually reached a point where the sense of independence was more frequent. It was a time where it was no longer a concern if I was at home by myself. I would often be surprised at how quickly the fulfillment of this freedom wore thin. It dawned on me that taking ownership and responsibility would eventually be required, just as Kevin McCallister discovered. Thankfully, I always knew my parents would be home soon. Kevin McCallister did not have this perspective. His binge of junk food and violent movies was short-lived when he realized his alone time had no end in sight. He quickly came to understand that, no matter how young or old someone is, the “real world” never fails to introduce itself. As a kid who turned into a teenager, then young-adult, I have always had an appreciation for the adaptability of an 8-year-old kid. Fighting off the initial instinct of fear and panic, it is a timeless example of how to react and respond to the unpredictable circumstances life has to offer.
Home Alone 2: Lost in New York
The second film in my yearly Christmas rewatch list was by far the easiest and most obvious choice of order. As the second film in the Home Alone franchise, the sequel to its original groundbreaking 1990 movie, Home Alone 2: Lost in New York, came two years later and, for me, happened to be viewed first. While I cannot remember the moment I first saw Home Alone, I distinctly remember watching its sequel on television at my grandparents house. The moments ingrained in my mind are the heightened, border line violent, versions of the resulting pratfalls from Kevin Mcallister’s intricately crafted house traps. I could not get enough of the humor and it resulted in my parents purchasing the DVD. Still lenient in my approach to watching Christmas movies, I put the DVD to frequent use, regardless of the time of year.
The narrative around this film is often centered around its similar structure to the original, and how it is basically the first movie set in New York. Such an observation is usually not meant to be a positive one, but is a way to claim the lack of originality. For me, this aspect of the film was exactly what made it special, and, still to this day, is my preferred choice between the two. Who wouldn’t want to experience New York at Christmas? I like to think of my viewing experience as a way of doing so. All the while, it is in avoidance of the rush of visitors who gravitate toward this desirable setting. While I can happily embrace the movie setting from the comfort of my own home, the main character, Kevin McCallister, did not have this luxury. At first, this doesn’t seem so bad to him.
Due to yet another family travel mishap, the now ten-year-old boy finds himself alone in the biggest city in America. At the time of my most repetitive cycle of Home Alone 2, I was yet again at, or around, the same age as Kevin McCallister. The grand setting of this movie, a clear sign of an increased budget from the original, made its stakes resemble the massive skyscrapers surrounding the boy. Just as big were the choices Kevin McCallister had to abruptly make when the surprise of being on his own yet again became a reality. When this occurred, Kevin was not on the best terms with his family, as was the case in the first movie. The possibilities of this freedom were far greater than they had been before.
His recall of an advertisement for the luxurious The Plaza hotel led him right to its front entrance and into one of its finest suites. It was a treat he was able to enjoy all to himself, with the help of the possession of his father’s credit card. The nightmare scenario for his parents turned into a dream for Kevin McCallister, just as it did for an elementary-aged Matt Bircher. The appeal came from picturing myself in his shoes. Always so sure of how I, too, would be quick on my feet and put myself in a top-tier environment, this part of the film allowed for the purest, more desirable form of vicarious living. As any good story requires, conflict was set to ensue.
The inevitable suspicions were raised and steps were taken to investigate a kid’s ability to fit the massive room bill. Called out for his apparent use of a stolen credit card, which really belonged to his father, the frightened boy felt he could do nothing but run away from the issue. I remember thinking, as a ten-year-old, why doesn’t he just explain that to them?! In watching it now, however, I realize how I would have done the exact same thing in those circumstances, and at that age … run away. The harsh weight of reality still had room to grow from my increased self-awareness, I must say. Its extra layer dealt with the truth of how, if it were me in Kevin’s predicament, I would have been too scared to even leave the airport to begin with. There is no chance I would have come close to The Plaza hotel. While the idea of fear permeates throughout this film, it also does in the everyday, real-life scenarios we have no choice but experiencing. What we can decide is how we approach each one. Though my own instincts may have been different than what is seen in the film, human nature's beauty is an appreciation for the unique traits we each have, along with the diverse results stemming from our choices. Whether they are good or bad, we have the ability to learn from them and equip ourselves for whatever curveball comes next.
National Lampoons’s Christmas Vacation
Staying with the curveball theme, it is essential for any worthwhile story to have them present for its characters to navigate. The means in which those characters choose to handle them will vary and, depending on the film, can lead them to the lowest possible valleys. Whether or not they overcome those obstacles is what keeps our active attention and emotional investment. For Clark Griswold, the main character of the entire National Lampoon film series, is hit with an onslaught of these roadblocks. The comedy ensuing from his irrational methods of dealing with such things during the Christmas Vacation installment of the film franchise, keeps audiences like myself, coming back to the film year after year.
National Lampoons’s Christmas Vacation is yet another holiday classic written by John Hughes, who also penned the first two movies on my rewatch list. Though he was not at the director’s helm, the movie is filled with the familiar suburban Chicago setting that is present throughout his filmography. Pairing this setting with the holiday season, I cannot help but imagine the Home Alone house being mere blocks away from the Griswold residence. It is this central location that Christmas Vacation is set. While other films in the National Lampoon vacation series focus on the travel components of a vacation, this one flips the premise entirely. Instead of Clark Griswold having his sights set on a destination for his family to enjoy, his own home becomes that very thing for his extended family.
A true believer in the holiday spirit and its traditions, Clark is fully open to ensuring the experience is unforgettable for his family. What becomes the film’s quintessential “curveball” is the arrival of an extended member of his wife’s family. Key word … extended. Adding to the ever-growing list of visitors for the “Griswold family Christmas”, beyond Clark’s parents, aunt and uncle, his wife’s parents, if his wife’s cousin … known simply as “Cousin Eddie.” His arrival, about midway through the movie, is what elevates it to the highest of comedic heights. At the same time, it is the beginning of Clark's downward spiral. Not so great for the character, but the perfect recipe for lead actor, Chevy Chase, to turn into gold.
My most cherished and memorable moment in watching this film, among the countless other times I have done so, came when I was in high school. I happened to be joined by my grandfather late one weekend night during the month of December. Everyone else had gone to sleep and it was just he and I. Before then, or since, I have never seen him fully submit to uncontrollable laughter, from the film's opening to closing credits. Since then, it has become a shorthand for brief moments of humor, and a laugh from him is near guarantee.
As the one who helps my grandfather decorate for Christmas, I will often refer to various scenes from Christmas Vacation while doing so. Some of the most humorous moments in the film come while Clark is in the process of taking his home’s decoration to extremely unnecessary and unsafe levels. The mention of my personal favorite scene comes when it is time to pull down the attic ladder. Though Clark is not in decorating mode when his attic door, after hitting him square in the face, is shut and he finds himself stuck, many questions related to his over-the-top choices are answered. To pass the time, Clark rummages around and comes across some old Christmas home movies from his childhood years. A genuine representation of emotion is shown when a tear rolls down his cheek amid his smile of remembrance. In the middle of a steady stream of comedy beats, I appreciated how the film took the time to give further context to its main character’s motivations.
It all points back to nostalgia and how memories of past times and, in some cases, better and simpler times, can cloud our judgment of the present moments. The “here and now” loses value when we obsess on what once was and could be ahead. In Clark’s case, the unrealistic expectations were on both sides of this perspective. His pursuit of a perfect family Christmas led to a misguided investment in an unrealistic result. Over time, I grasped the true value of letting moments naturally unfold and finding the positives of their imperfection. Beauty is never out of reach amid the chaos and madness. As long as we are present in any given moment, we are able to find it.
The Santa Clause 3
The idea of being present, and the consequences of when someone is not, is the ultimate conflict of the next film on my list, The Santa Clause 3. While the third installment in The Santa Clause film series is often not a viewer's first choice to rewatch, it was the one my family had on DVD. With this came many opportunities to know this movie by heart and the resulting impact of an ever-powerful nostalgic force. The rewatch list placement of this film, following Christmas Vacation, has some other surface-level connections, in addition to the aforementioned thematic connection. A big one is the scenario of a main character’s in-laws coming to their home turf during the holiday season. Santa Claus is, namely, the film’s main protagonist. Its central location is, you guessed it, The North Pole.
The days leading up to Christmas are usually quite busy for anyone. For Santa Claus, there is simply no comparison! Adding additional family members to the mix can easily be a recipe for disaster, as seen with the Griswold family in Christmas Vacation. The ultimate twist in this movie is that two of the prominent family guests, in-laws there to patch the holes from Santa’s emotional absence to his pregnant wife, Mrs. Claus, do not think they are going to the North Pole. The reason being is that they do not even know he is Santa!
The character of Scott Calvin, established as a divorced businessman and holiday-sceptic in the original film, has had the role of Santa for twelve years when the third movie takes place. Having grown accustomed to the routine of being Santa, there is a sense of familiarity and comfort he has established over the course of that time. It is only until life comes crashing down on him all at once. The secrecy of his role may be in jeopardy with their arrival, but the fate of Christmas itself is under the same threat when another character forces their way into the picture.
Adding to my enjoyment and preference of The Santa Clause 3 is the addition of new characters to the franchise. The in-laws, played by the great Alan Arkin and Ann-Margret, along with the character of Jack Frost, played by one of my all-time funniest performers, Martin Short, help add that extra layer of comedic conflict for Santa Claus, AKA Scott Calvin. It is important to mention his original, pre-Santa, name when discussing The Santa Claus 3, in particular. While the previous two films feature him in his original form, without the white hair, beard, and extra weight, this installment poses the risk of him permanently reverting back to his “pre-Santa” way of life. With the influence of Jack Frost’s mischievous plan to push Santa to his breaking point, his wish of “having never been Santa at all” becomes a new reality, with the help of some magic, of course! Jack Frost, by scheming a way to abuse and use it for his own jealousy-induced agenda, takes advantage of Santa at his most vulnerable moments.
With a wife expecting a baby during his busiest time of year, Santa is in an understandable battle with his priorities. As work and life competed for his attention, his obligatory pressures were winning in a landslide. In the myriad of viewings from my younger years, I never considered the emotional depth of this conflict. What makes these family movies special is their ability to speak to both kids and their parents who will often be joining in the watch. As I now have gained some perspective of life in its most brutal forms of reality, a new level of understanding made for an entirely fresh viewing experience.
From it, I have had my eyes opened to how easy it is to lose perspective on the true value of those closest to us and the privileges found in both life and work. Though Santa was schemed into a transformation back to his former self, it turned out to be the best thing for him. Only then could he see what his life would have turned into without having the responsibility of being Santa. With a newfound motivation to appreciate all he has in life, Scott Calvin does everything he can to get them back. Tying the story into a perfect Christmas bow is not the mere success in returning to his life and role as Santa, but discovering a new appreciation for an even more important one as a husband and father.
Spirited
In the climatic moments of the previous movie on this list, The Santa Clause 3, there is a musical number performed by the great Martin Short. It was a humorous rewording of the Frank Sinatra classic “(Theme From) New York, New York.” With the next movie on my rewatch list, Spirited, musical numbers are featured from start to finish. The tones found in each one cover both ends of the emotional spectrum. It is natural to go into the film with the expectation of a top-to-bottom comedy, and that sensibility certainly is present. Starring arguably the funniest actor to ever come across a movie screen, Will Ferrell, along with the quick-witted Ryan Reynolds, how could it not be? This is both clearly stated humor while also including subtle hints of it, through dialogue, facial expressions, and reactions to inconceivable circumstances. Spirited just so happens to offer a wide array of them.
Centered around the modern retelling of Charles Dicken’s A Christmas Carol, the supernatural components give each character plenty of opportunities to comment on the ensuing absurdities. One of them deals with a key aspect of the list’s previous film, The Santa Clause 3, which features a character leaving their current reality and being thrust into their past. It is then, by seeing their decisions and consequences resulting from them, that a character can reassess their choices.
For me, I had absolutely no inclination of reassessing my decision to watch the movie on its release day in 2022. It only took one watch for Spirited to reach the “classic” and “annual must-watch” status. While there is a nostalgic factor for the other 8 on my list, such feelings were immediately injected into my holiday spirit and have only grown with each viewing. The catchy, upbeat opening track of “That Christmas Morning Feelin’” is the perfect tone-setter that the rest of the movie maintains quite well. It does so through the literal closing credits when there is a refreshing reprise of the song to close the movie. Having spent two hours immersed in the journeys of each character, from the film’s top stars to those with cameo appearances, it is a satisfying pay-off to see them all join in to sing and dance to the tune, even if the fourth wall is slightly broken in the process.
The road to get to that celebratory moment is one with various complexities and complications. Spirited proves how overcoming such things can seem impossible when left to our own devices. Even when we are paired with someone else to take on those challenges, the daunting nature of facing one’s past can be a challenging feat. Even more so in this film, however, are its present circumstances, particularly for the main character, Clint Briggs, who is played by Ryan Reynolds. There is a timely aspect to his role as a media consultant whose main objective is to fan the flames of societal tension. In a moment where such a thing is very prevalent, it has never been easier to take hotbed issues and use them for personal gain. The one to begin Clint’s personal journey is the impassioned tone he takes against the artificial Christmas tree industry. After speaking to a group of Christmas tree farmers, it becomes clear that his plea for upholding the holiday’s traditional approach to decor was an act designed to rouse an uproarious response from those who are personally impacted by his message.
Clint, himself, has a more complicated history with the Christmas holiday, leaving him numb to all the wonder it has to offer. Wounded by personal experiences that occurred during the season, he has long ago given way to a pessimistic stronghold at the movie’s starting point. It ultimately translated into his professional influence and eventual success, making it all the more difficult to alter. When Clint’s actions are categorized as “unredeemable,” it is the main mission of Ferrel’s character, The Ghost of Christmas Present, to prove how every individual, regardless of their past, can experience the process of redemption. The sense of hope, expressed through powerful ballads and reflective character moments, made way for my own reassessment of the human arc. While some may be more complicated than others, every individual deserves the same opportunities to view the world in a more graceful light. In doing so, we can view ourselves in the same way.
How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000)
Maintaining my need, or should I say preference, for finding connections between each film on the list, to help determine their order, many ties can be found between the 2000 version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas and the previously watched Spirited. A big one is associated with the narrative approach taken with each movie. Both are reimagined versions of classic Christmas tales, originally told by two classic writers. While the original publication of How the Grinch Stole Christmas is 114 years younger, it spotlights a timeless tale of character growth and the evolution of a once-begrudged view of life, just as A Christmas Carol did.
While Spirited took more creative license to stylistically modernize that tale, it still managed to pay homage to that 1800s era in a critical, plot-twisting point in the movie. Here, with the 2000 release of How the Grinch Stole Christmas, the film wholeheartedly aligns itself in the fictional Whoville town and the specificities of its environment and characters inhabiting the space. Through the painstaking design efforts, this live-action version truly does give life to Dr. Seuss’s story.
Injecting the film with an indescribable level of brilliant energy is its main character, The Grinch, who is played by the legendary Jim Carey. In my early experiences with our family’s VHS tape of the film, the cover photo itself proves the ultimate transformation he underwent to play the part. What I did not appreciate back then was how the performance went beyond any costume or use of makeup, but dove deep into a complicated array of emotions. As one can expect from him, Jim Carrey’s portrayal did include his classic comedic gift of voice alteration and physical beats. Yet what layers it is an obvious internal stronghold within the character. As the movie progresses, it slowly creeps closer to the surface and eventually breaks through.
In the moments leading to that point, a lot of time is spent with the Grinch, in the comfort of his isolated mountain home that overlooks the Whoville town below. It is there we get to know Cindy Lou Who and her perspective amid the hectic hustle and bustle of the final days of Christmas preparation. The Grinch, of course, wants no part of it whatsoever, and the Whoville residents feel the same way about him. It gives proof to the power of distance and how, with more space, there is more room for assumptions and longstanding notions to uncontrollably grow. As one of the younger characters in the movie, Cindy Lou has simply not been around long enough for her own thoughts to be swayed by the Whoville beliefs. Yet to be indoctrinated in their way of life, she simply does not understand the town’s prejudice toward the Grinch, similar to her perspective on their chaotic Christmastime rush. With an unblemished view of how the world works, and how those in it operate, it is a refreshing glimpse of innocence remaining firm, no matter how much pessimism surrounds it.
For The Grinch, his fault-filled outlook on life was born when he was in a similar range of age as Cindy Lou is when the movie takes place. What the original Seuss book and 1966 animated film does not cover is the background behind his holiday hostility. The additional length of a live-action feature film carved a path for this key context to be given. With a flashback to the Grinch’s younger years as a student, a Christmas exchange gone wrong produces a darkened cloud of embarrassment. The initial sadness he feels shifts quickly into rage, which becomes an emotional crutch for The Grinch to mask his pain.
Emotional understanding and eventual connection requires a two-way relational street. When there is effort lacking on either side, the other individual feels less inclined to do their part. The Grinch clearly recognized Whoville’s widespread avoidance of his presence. With this painful realization, the vengeance he sought was aimed to rob them of the very thing he was forced to live without. While submitting to those dark impulses can be a brief bandage of satisfaction, one’s internal wounds will only grow wider. Every immersive experience with How the Grinch Stole Christmas is a reminder of what happens when we ignore the damage within ourselves. With it unchecked, our actions will begin to have external consequences. When they are a reflection of our inner turmoil, we expose our surrounding environment to this overload of negativity. To avoid this destructive risk, we can first choose to receive, appreciate, and ultimately reciprocate the positive rays of light when they are first offered to us.
Fred Claus
With the satisfying end of How the Grinch Stole Christmas, featuring the entire town, including The Grinch, joined together around the Christmas tree, the opening of the next film on my list, Fred Claus, seems to be an ideal transition. The movie’s introduction revolves around the classic origin story of Saint Nicholas, who would come to be known as Santa Claus. There is a gentle nature to the atmosphere at this point in the movie, represented in its setting, music score, and character dialogue. Where the movie gains its unique quality of fiction, and brewing tension, is the inclusion of a character who, before this film, was never mentioned in the innumerable retellings of the Santa Claus story. An older brother, named Fred Claus, has his world rocked when a new addition to the family enters the picture.
Fred’s ability to adapt is hard enough as it is, a common thing when a new sibling comes into play. What makes it an impossible feat for him is the unattainable representation of “saint-like” qualities from his brother, Nicholas. Though his intentions are pure and well-meaning, Nicholas does not understand the effect they have on Fred. The spark of his fury ignites when he sees how Nicholas, exuding maturity beyond his years, does not succumb to the mood Fred attempts to spread.
From the audience’s vantage point, we see how Fred’s familial disdain carries over into other realms of his life. His sour outlook toward the Christmas holidays, a time of year when his brother is in the spotlight, puts him on edge and eventually over it. The mood, carried over into other realms of his life, sparks a chain of events to put him behind bars. Vince Vaughn, playing the film’s titular role, is at the center of this struggle and represents it well through his comedically flawed decision-making process. When this leads him to his lowest point, the only source he is left to desperately turn to is his brother, who is at his busiest time of year. There is a clear history of emotional distance between the two brothers. It appears to be as vast as the physical space between them from Chicago, where Fred resides, to the North Pole. It is there, at the hub of “all things Christmas” that he is given one final chance to turn his life around.
Though this film has never reached the status of a Christmas “classic” for most people, I personally have grown to appreciate these universal family dynamics. However, in continuing to speak on my personal relationship with the movie, reaching this view did take a bit of time. As a six-year-old kid when Fred Claus was released in 2007, it was still at the height of my interest in all-things Christmas, Santa, and the North Pole. With a film promising to feature all three, it seemed like an ideal match and great choice to see in the movie theater. The movie was not even to its halfway point where I began to grow deeply uncomfortable with the introduction of the movie’s villain, who seeks to destroy those same three ingredients I was most interested in. While any further mention of the character is not worth it for this discussion, at the point of their introduction I was already having a hard time processing the complex themes of the film. This led to my abrupt exit from the movie when I began to cry out of discomfort.
The main character, Fred Claus, was simply everything I was not when I first watched the movie at six years old. He had a strong disdain for all-things Christmas while my love for them was the reason my parents took me to see the movie. With some distance from that first experience, I chose to revisit the movie and was able to view it in an entirely different light. My older age brought more maturity, and overall experience, in the subject of familial relations. For this theme to be the ultimate foundation of the film, it helps to have some basis of context of all it entails. I eventually reached a point where there was an awareness of the power associated with such complexities. With that came an avenue of understanding. Though I had personally never acted out in the reckless ways seen from Fred in film, I was equipped to imagine myself in his predicament.
What if I was in his position? While I could hope to make better choices in those circumstances, I realized how the ideal results in life are often difficult to produce. Making it all the more complicated for Fred is the large void within his spirit. Similar obstacles are found within all of us, though some may be bigger than others. By allowing such things to uncontrollably grow throughout his life, it damaged Fred’s perception of the world and his own place in it. The movie does contain a fair share of comedic moments, but all the more valuable is its reminder of how we must honestly face the less appealing aspects of our life. When we do, a path to representing our unique gifts and strengths can be fully realized.
Elf
The 2000s era of film comedies, one that is often regarded as one of the best, is missed dearly by many industry insiders, as well as those who enjoy it from the outside. Nowadays, in a time where there are very limited theatrical releases for this genre, it is easy to find the nostalgic feelings toward a stretch where there seemed to be an abundance of such films. Part of the heavy output of film comedies involved a wide variety of storytelling themes, including Christmas. This stretch of time consisted of a handful of bankable stars who were often at the center of these films. By seeing their name and face on a movie poster, a sense of credibility was established for the potential ticket buyers.
The names and faces of such stars held a great deal of weight for the studios in charge of financing such films. Fred Claus, the previous film on the list, had a budget of over 100 million dollars. With Vince Vaughn at the center, he was amid his dominant stretch of successful comedy movies. Without him and the popularity around his name, such a figure would simply be unthinkable to invest. The connectivity between that film and the next one, Elf, begins there. The name and face on this particular poster, Will Ferrell, had less weight to his name at the time of the film’s 2003 release. However, another comedy film released earlier that year made the success of Elf a realistic thing for the studio to consider. The movie, Old School, which happened to feature Vince Vaughn, along with Will Ferrell in his first major role, proved he could hold his own in a studio film. Elf had a relatively modest budget of just above 30 million dollars and its following success made room for an even higher studio commitment to comedies in the ensuing years, seen with the generous budget of Fred Claus.
In addition to having a big star at the center of each movie, the narrative structures of Elf and Fred Claus are interesting to put side-by-side. The physical journeys for each main character are reversed, in a sense. Ferrell's character, Buddy the Elf, begins the film at the North Pole, an environment he has spent his entire life up to that point. The culture there, among other elves, is all he knows. Yet, lacking most natural qualities of an elf, it is one he has trouble fitting into as he gets older and his natural human ones take over. It takes his immersion in New York City for viewers to appreciate his true identity as an elf and realize how those adopted qualities are truly exceptional. In Fred Claus, Fred is the one who begins in the real world, which is a space where he is most comfortable. He, too, is thrust into an unfamiliar environment. For him, it is the North Pole, where, similar to Buddy, he finds himself desperately grasping for a familial life raft. Though each character’s outlook toward their family and the holiday season are on opposite ends of the spectrum, both are forced to reckon with their status as an outsider. Both topics of family and the holidays are at the forefront of each film. To see how those differing views are utilized within the same circumstance of discomfort, it is an accurate depiction of everyday life.
When I watched Elf on repeat in my younger years, I was enamored by the lore of Christmas and loved seeing Buddy’s obsessive appreciation for the holiday. There was definitely some relatability associated with that, as I had similar feelings of my own. As time went on, it is natural to become jaded toward such things, however. Buddy’s father, the character of Walter Hobbs, certainly falls in this category. His life revolves around work and he simply does not care what time of year it is. When the priorities of life inevitably shift, and professional responsibilities grow, it is crucial to ensure other realms of life are not cast aside. It was a rude awakening when watching it and, for the first time, I saw myself more in the Walter Hobbs character than I did in Buddy the Elf. Yet, such an observation had some benefits. From it, I understood how the sense of joy, represented perfectly by Buddy, has an infectious power. It gave me hope to see it eventually impact Walter, whose lack of Christmas spirit seemed to be at an unrecoverable level.
With the representation of restoration for such a character, I can appreciate the chance for such a thing within myself. When we lose focus on the things and people who truly matter, it is never too late to look around and appreciate the outlook of others. Even if it is far from our own, there is no distance that the spirit of Christmas, and the power of family, cannot reach.
Polar Express
“I remember watching you enjoy the movie more than actually watching it, myself.” This is often something my mother reminds me when discussing the next film on my annual Christmas rewatch list, Polar Express. Though my memories of that initial experience are vague, which was my first ever with the movie theater big-screen, there were an endless array of them that followed soon thereafter. In November of 2004, my love for Christmas, and primarily Santa Claus, was already present. I am sure it was a big reason my mother chose Polar Express as the first film for me to see in a theater at 3 years old. To bring a child of this age to a movie does pose a risk for most parents, as most attention spans of that age cannot last an hour and a half length of time. According to my mother, however, my love for the film’s content captured my full focus. From this initial investment came countless others as a viewer, in the form of the DVD getting a lot of usage, no matter what time of year it happened to be.
All thanks to Polar Express, what began as a love and interest in Christmas and the characters associated with it, grew into a near-obsession. There was something about the film that pulled me in, as if I was in the story myself. It helped to see a young boy, not too much older than I was then, as the film’s protagonist. The process of imagining myself in his mystical scenario became an accessible thing for me. To hop on a train that is headed to the North Pole, on Christmas Eve, would have been a dream come true. When watching the movie, I never failed to act out various scenes and was hardly ever still in the process. While I may have eventually aged out of doing so, the magical feeling it helps produce has never escaped.
I strategically close out this annual rewatch experience with Polar Express for various reasons. A big one has to do with the time of the train’s journey in the movie. With it occurring on Christmas Eve, it is only right for me to watch it then. Going on my own journey at the same time as the protagonist, known vaguely as “Hero Boy” in the movie and is never mentioned by name. I also find it appropriate to pair this with Elf, since I can confidently say they are the two Christmas movies I grew up watching the most. To finish the holiday season with them is a satisfying high note that hits all of the nostalgic beats just right.
At the core of this film’s overall theme is the idea of believing in what cannot always be seen. Viewers can understand why the powerful closing credit song of “Believe” by Josh Groban is used to cap off the start-to-finish representation of this idea. In the prime of my seemingly nonstop watching of Polar Express, I was fully committed to the idea of Christmas and all it entailed. My belief was comfortably placed in the holiday’s magical components. While it never hindered my enjoyment of the movie, it always puzzled me why the protagonist was experiencing some doubts. It was not long after I began attending school with others that differing views became more prominent during discussions around the Christmas season. Still firmly planted in my personal belief, hearing from those who differed in theirs seemed to strengthen mine.
As nature tends to do, however, I was met with another opposing force, proving itself to be stronger than any external ones I had ever faced. From this came an internal struggle with many of my long-held beliefs, including those about Christmas. This, of course, began to arise in the infamous period of adolescence. During this time, I may have had some age-related separation with the film’s protagonist, yet I had never related to him more. Watching his journey back to embracing what makes Christmas special, even if those qualities cannot always be physically seen, was one I also needed to take. My continuous relationship with Polar Express made this possible. I came to the realization that, even with a mindset of practicality, the rebirth of holiday “magic” can occur.
It all starts with an acceptance of childlike wonder and an acknowledgement of the positive feelings they help evoke. The cynicism, produced from avoiding them, does nothing but limit our ability to express what truly makes us happy. By feeling comfortable to proudly live this out, our eyes can open to seeing the large community of commonality we are all free to join. It is nothing short of a joy to be part of one who basks in the nostalgic magic of Christmas. In sharing my process to help keep it alive each year, I hope it will inspire you to do the same thing.
No comments:
Post a Comment