In the Spirit
Somewhere along the way, Christmas got ridiculous. It became not just a day but a season, a protracted shopping extravaganza upon which the world’s most powerful retail economy is slavishly dependent. It became more about fighting for a parking space and forking out a week’s pay for Tickle Me Elmo than about any sort of celebration of brotherhood or remembrance of the baby Jesus.
Needless to report, such an environment is not conducive to great cinema. Most Christmas movies, like most Christmas albums, are downright awful—hastily assembled mishmashes chockfull of predictable nonsense. But the next time someone starts in about how funny Tim Allen is in a Santa suit, take a lesson from the birthday boy himself and turn the other cheek. For holiday spirit without all the empty calories, check out these movies:
Holiday Inn (dir: Mark Sandrich, 1942) Like many a musical before and since, this one is thin of plot and rich of song. Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire play entertainers who tangle over a comely woman while teaming up to make a go of it at a Connecticut supper club that’s only open on holidays—that’s right, only on holidays. But then, no one watches Bing Crosby movies looking for guidance on how to run a small business. It’s songs we want, and it’s songs we get: a slew of snappy numbers courtesy of Irving Berlin, including the now ubiquitous “White Christmas” (also the title of the film’s 1954 sort-of remake, starring Crosby and Danny Kaye).
A Christmas Carol (dir: Brian Desmond Hurst, 1951) The definitive rendition of Dickens’ oft-filmed story about a sunken-eyed miser who receives some nocturnal visits from the Christmas ghosts. Alastair Sim is the Scrooge by which all others must be measured: He plays the consummate curmudgeon more as a tormented human than as a mean-ass cutout character. The film is beautifully done in every respect, with music courtesy of one of Hollywood’s greatest composers, Bernard Herrmann (the guy responsible for the chilling strings in the Psycho shower scene). If you can’t find this one, Edwin Marin’s 1938 version makes a nice substitute, as does the 1984 TV movie with George C. Scott as Scrooge.
How the Grinch Stole Christmas (1965) Dr. Seuss’ winning animated fable about the bile-green meany who tries to snatch Christmas from the good people of Whoville. In the end, the townspeople show him it isn’t the gear that matters—it’s the spirit. (As the narrator puts it: “Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store.”) As always, the good Doctor’s drooping, pointy cartoon figures are a gas, and his cool, twisty rhymes and nonsense phrases put him in a class with Lewis Carroll. Sadly, this and A Charlie Brown Christmas are among the few worthwhile kids’ holiday viewing choices; most of the tripe crowding the video rental shelves is more along the lines of Barney’s Waiting for Santa.
The Lion in Winter (dir: Anthony Harvey, 1968) This is for all the people who think they have it rough when it comes to family gatherings. It’s Christmas Eve long ago, and fast-talking monarch Henry II (Peter O’Toole) has gathered the family ’round to decide which of his three sons will be his successor. What with his bickering, estranged wife (Katharine Hepburn) and his goofy brood (including Anthony Hopkins debuting as young Richard the Lionhearted), it’s not long before dysfunction is in full bloom. It all gets rather confusing—albeit in an interesting, Shakespearean sort of way—with plenty of eavesdropping, double-dealing, and outright scheming. Operator that he is, Henry at one point tries to persuade his bosomy mistress to marry his youngest so that she can eventually be queen; she demurs, complaining he “has pimples, and he smells of compost.”
A Christmas Story (dir: Bob Clark, 1983) Growing up in the 1940s, young Ralphie (Peter Billingsley) wants a Red Ryder BB gun something awful. Trouble is, everyone, from his folks to Santa, is steering him away from the idea. More clever and entertaining than it sounds, this movie manages to capture the period flavor very nicely, much in the way Woody Allen’s Radio Days did several years later. And like that film, it manages to weave strands of sentimental homage to bygone times with some very funny moments. The movie’s also a marvelous evocation of what it’s like to be a child and to pine badly for something. As such, it stands as one of the few non-animated Christmas movies that holds real interest for adults and young folk alike.
Fanny and Alexander (dir: Ingmar Bergman, 1983) At least marginally autobiographical—the setting is a quaint, turn-of-the-century Swedish town—this is one of Bergman’s finest efforts, edited down from what was initially a miniseries. Though the film spans a year (and becomes considerably less jovial in the later scenes), most of the first hour or so is devoted to Christmas, with enough elaborate decoration and sumptuous snacks on display to make Martha Stewart lay down her glue gun and cry, “No más!” The house is abuzz with feasting, philandering, and other merrymaking, and the visuals are downright superb, with the interior shots bathed in warm reds and the glow of hundreds of candles.
The Nightmare Before Christmas (dir: Henry Selick, 1993) Having first conceived of this stunningly original work while he was a Disney trainee, producer Tim Burton spent years seeking backers for his tale of the jaunty skeleton, Jack Skellington, who’s grown weary of lording over Halloweentown. Instead, Jack decides to take Santa’s place and try his hand at Christmas—with less than smooth results. Dr. Finkelstein, the wheelchair-bound mad scientist, is a hoot, and his stitched-together female creation, Sally, provides Jack with a tantalizing love interest. Worth seeing just for the eye-popping stop-action animation (which took two years), but Danny Elfman’s terrific songs make the film a must for anyone with a twisted sense of humor.
Comments (0)