Christmas Evil (1980)

Director: Lewis Jackson
Writer(s): Jackson
Starring: Brandon Maggart, Jeffrey Demunn, and Dianne Hull

There are quite a few—many would say too many—horror movies that are inspired by, or take place during, Christmas.  But most of them don’t take themselves too seriously; using the term “lighthearted” might be a bit of a stretch, but even a film like Silent Night, Deadly Night, which was pulled early from its theatrical run due to parental protests concerning its violent subject matter, amounts to little more than campy amateurishness.

What really caught my attention about Lewis Jackson’s Christmas Evil was the assurance from several sources that it takes itself with complete seriousness.  I didn’t really know how to take that at the time (was it just a straightforward slasher movie, with all elements of humor removed?) but after having just watched it, I can only say that this has to be one of the most unique of all Christmas horrors; a film that strives for equal parts sympathy and pathos for its mentally disturbed star, and actually manages to elicit both.

Before we go any further, I should mention that anyone looking for a holiday bloodbath, or even a slasher film at all, would do best to just turn around, start walking, and never look back.  Sure, it’s billed as a slasher film, and it does have a couple murders, but that’s only because everything has to be labeled these days.  And if it doesn’t fit snugly into a specific genre, it’s just lumped into whatever category will make it the most money. 

Christmas Evil opens to a house on Christmas Eve in, 1947, where young Harry, his brother Philip, and their mother huddle on a staircase, watching Santa Claus as he comes down the chimney, and puts their presents under the tree.  When the two brothers go to bed soon thereafter, younger Philip informs Harry that was their father in the costume, a simple fact that Harry refuses to accept.

Flash forward to the “present day”, which in this case, is 1980.  Harry is now grown up and living alone; when we see his living quarters completely decorated in Christmas paraphernalia, we can only assume it is this way all year long.  His mind is always caught up in Christmas, so perhaps it’s not that surprising that he has a high-ranking job in a toy manufacturing plant, and that he watches neighbor kids with binoculars, and makes notes about which of them are naughty, and which of them are nice.

Much of the film’s effectiveness is garnered from its refreshing unpredictability—Harry just honestly wants to spread joy to everyone.  He is mentally disturbed, but he’s not some psycho that’s simply out patrolling the streets with the intent to kill; he wants everyone to revel in the spirit and the atmosphere of Christmas.  Now, to be clear, he’s not above the occasional murder, but when he does resort to violence, it’s sudden and shocking, rather than drawn out and expected (the first murder came up so abruptly that my jaw virtually hit the floor).  Having the murders take a backseat to the story is a welcome change from your average horror film, and one that makes the violent sequences sting that much more.

It’s also helped along by Brandon Maggart’s strong, vulnerable performance as Harry.  Actually, a majority of the performances are strong, but Maggart’s borders on the heartbreaking; the quiet scenes of him alone in his house reach a level of poignancy that few horror films would ever even attempt to achieve.  Harry’s clearly out of his mind, but his heart is in the right place, leading to a moral tug-of-war for the viewer—we realize that he needs help, but at the same time he is so sincere in his kindness and generosity that it almost wanders into a gray area.

Speaking of unexpected, nothing could possibly brace you for the ending, which is so out of left-field that you will either love it or hate it: there’s absolutely no middle ground.  At first--before it had even fully registered, and while I was still regaining my senses—I admired it for its audacity, but as it absorbed in my mind, it really grew on me.

Now, in a work this original, it’s only inevitable that not everything works.  Once the police start getting involved, for instance, it kind of ruins the fantasy aspect (like it would really be that hard for cops to track down a windowless white van with a huge sleigh hand-painted on it).  The second murder sequence, though not entirely bereft of originality, stretches the limits of believability a little too far (short of a coma, no way a wife could sleep through that), while also muddling the film’s message a little bit.

But out of the new Christmas movies I’ve seen this year, horror or otherwise, Christmas Evil is the only one that I could see becoming an occasional holiday tradition for me.  In avoiding the typical horror tropes and by wearing its heart on its sleeve, it somehow manages to sympathetically capture a man desperate to cling to the innocence of Christmas, no matter the cost.

RECAP: Closer to a drama than a slasher film (as it’s marketed), Lewis Jackson’s Christmas Evil is a surprising gem of holiday horror.  Brandon Maggart’s strong performance as Harry Stradling, a mentally-handicapped (and traumatized) man who dedicates his life to spreading the Christmas spirit is surprisingly heartbreaking, and there are several brilliant ideas at play here.  It does start to fizzle out once the police start to get involved, but an audaciously original (and unexpected) ending finishes things off on a strong note.  Those looking for a steady supply of blood and gore will be sorely disappointed, but when violence is used, it’s often quick and shocking.  On a side note, look for Patricia Richardson (of “Home Improvement” fame) as the mother of one of the naughty boys on Harry’s list!

RATING: 7.5/10

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Miracle on 34th Street (1946)

Director: George Seaton
Writer(s): Seaton, based on a story by Valentine Davies
Starring: Edmund Gwenn, Maureen O'Hara, John Payne, and Natalie Wood

Miracle on 34^th Street is the best all-around Christmas movie ever made.  Sure, there are movies that are a lot more fun, or movies that are funnier and goofier, but there is no movie that exudes the true spirit of Christmas quite like this one.  It doesn’t have to resort to over-the-top performances by a famous actor to force-feed you holiday cheer, like It’s a Wonderful Life—it starts off with a very simple idea, and cleverly wrings every last drop of hope and cheerfulness out of it.

In other words, it avoids the syrupy sentimentality that plagues many of the other “classics”, instead presenting its story with an earnest straightforwardness and clever subtlety.  It has an agenda, of course—after all, it is a Christmas movie—but it’s understatedness never feels like it’s pushing our nose in it, or forcing it down our throats.  It’s just letting its story unfold, allowing us to feel like the children do as each little detail is revealed.

It all begins rather innocently: Doris Walker is a special events director for Macy’s, her main role consisting of organizing their famous Thanksgiving Day parade.  A bearded man complains to her that the hired Santa Claus is drunk on the job mere moments before it is to begin.  She promptly fires him, then asks the bearded man if he would want to step in as replacement.  At first he is hesitant, but all it takes is one look at all the hopeful children to get him to change his mind.

His appearance goes over so well, that he is given the job as Santa in the actual department store.  He offends his supervisor, toy department head Julian Shellhammer, by informing parents where to buy their toys, even if Macy’s does not carry them, or they are sold out, actions that clearly go against his directives.  But just as Shellhammer is about to complain to his superiors, he learns that the Santa’s unorthodox methods are actually winning over the customers—soon, their competitors vow to also put the customers interests, instead of their profits, first.  

Things sure sound like they’re going swell, but there surely has to be some kind of resistance, or else we wouldn’t have much of a movie—sure enough, this new Santa, who goes by the name of Kris Kringle—creates a fuss simply because he adamantly maintains that he is the real Santa Claus!  What’s refreshing about this turn is that he doesn’t turn the whole world against him; many people actually defend him, even if only on the grounds that, whether or not he is telling the truth, it doesn’t take away the fact that he is a generous, kindhearted man.

The main holdouts are Ms. Walker (the recently departed Maureen O’Hara) and her young daughter, Susan (Natalie Wood).  The elder Walker acknowledges that she has prevented Susan from believing anything outside the known realms of “reality”; it’s gotten to the point that she even refuses to play with the (assumedly) poorer neighbor kids, who have to resort to using their imaginations in the games that they play. 

Meanwhile, following an accusation of lunacy from a quack psychiatrist, Kris is put on trial.  If he loses, he will be committed to a mental institution, while if he wins, the world will know he is Santa Claus.  But how can you prove to the faithless that you are the real thing?

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see where this is headed, or how it’s all going to play out.  We know going in that he’s the real deal, and we know that he is going to win the case.  We also know that he will eventually get Doris and little Susan to change their minds.  We know that the quack doctor will eventually get what’s coming to him.  But this is one of those ultra-rare instances where knowing every nuance of the screenplay does nothing to deter the excitement of watching it all unfold.  There’s a wry humor throughout, and just a warmhearted tenderness to everything that I couldn’t help but smile and giggle at several scenes. 

Forget the overhyped, disgustingly theatrical It’s a Wonderful Life, which has somehow become the sole benchmark for holiday films—Miracle on 34th Street is as good as Christmas movies get.  I have to admit that the final “proof” of Santa Claus existing during the trial was a little underwhelming, especially given the high quality level of writing throughout the rest, but it does little to detract from the above statement.  If you want a movie that naturally elicits an emotional response instead of wasting all its resources trying to force you into one, look no further than this little number.

RECAP: A holiday movie that transports you back to the freewheeling carelessness of childhood, Miracle on 34^th Street is a delightful Christmas movie that doesn’t rely on tired gimmicks, hammy overacting (I’m looking at you, James Stewart), or forced sentiment to tell its story, and that’s precisely why this is the greatest holiday movie ever made.  Edmund Gwenn is perfect as Kris Kringle, while the writing is also top-notch.  This is my pick for all-time Christmas classic, far destroying the overhyped and overly sentimental cornball crapfest It’s a Wonderful Life.

RATING: 9.5/10

LONG-WINDED, BUT UNIQUE TRAILER

Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale (2010)

Director: Jalmari Helander
Writer(s): Helander, based on an original idea by Helander and Juuso Helander.
Starring: Jorma Tommila, Peeter Jakobi, Onni Tommila, and Tommi Korpela

The blending of horror and Christmas really isn’t anything new: from Bob Clark’s Black Christmas all the way back in 1974, up through the Silent Night, Deadly Night slasher series in the ‘80s, there have always been movies that have treated the holiday as just another day to kill unsuspecting college students.  Much in the way chocolate-covered pretzels work by blending salty and sweet, so to does the horror/Christmas connection—why not take the happiest day of the year (for many) and turn it into something horrifying?

Enter Rare Exports, a Norwegian film that not only aims to prove that Santa exists, but that, rather than rewarding the good, he and his elves instead spend Christmas Day punishing the naughty ones.  It’s a bizarre idea, to be sure, but it’s handled with enough tongue-in-cheek moments that it’s obvious the filmmakers aren’t taking much of this seriously, either.

Pietari is a young boy who lives in the mountains of Finland along with his father Rauno.  There, they eke out a tight lifestyle, with Rauno making his money by slaughtering and selling animals.  Then Americans show up, with the intention of digging deep into the mountain, hoping to strike it rich off any riches that the mountain holds.  When a hole in a fence leads to dozens of dead reindeer, the Finnish townsfolk immediately suspect the Americans were behind the vandalism, which allowed wolves to enter into the reindeer pen to finish them.  They head up to confront them, only to find that no one is there, and that they “must have left in a hurry”.

To protect their own home, Rauno sets up a wolf trap.  Pietari notices that the bait is gone, and the trap has been activated.  But what Rauno sees is not a wolf at all, but a fragile, old naked man.  After a little while, they come to realize that it’s Santa Claus, and Rauno’s eyes light up with dollar signs.  But Santa has different ideas, and soon his elves close in, and they will stop at nothing to free their master.

The film’s biggest transgression is that it never really “takes off”; it always hints at things grander than what it is willing to achieve.  There were several moments during Rare Exports that I started to get noticeably excited in anticipation of a scene’s climax, but it was never as thrilling as we were lead to believe.  Don’t misunderstand me, there are plenty of good ideas here as is, but many of them are never given enough time in the spotlight to bloom into anything special.  The lack of suspense is also a killer—every single plan Pietari concocts (another annoying trait: a kid character calling the shots in a decidedly non-children’s movie) seems to work without a single hitch.  It all just feels too neat and tidy, without ever really putting the character’s in any kind of immediate harm.

I also wasn’t a fan at all of the ending; it’s supposed to be “happy”, because it gives the main characters everything they’ve been looking for, yet it honestly felt kind of cruel to me.  I can’t really reveal anything about it without giving it all away, but I was expecting a detour toward more of a poignant ending, which is hinted at for a few moments, before evaporating.  Having such a finish wouldn’t be a stretch, either, as director Jalmari Helander allows several moments of genuine emotion to seep in, though like everything else, they are never given any time to truly resonate.

To be fair, there are plenty of clever scenes at play here, even disregarding the obvious change of Santa Claus from lovable bringer of presents to punisher of naughty children.  For example, one of the villagers complains that someone has entered into his barn and messed with his potatoes—as it turns out, whoever it was left all the potatoes, but was merely interested in stealing dozens of burlap sacks.  We soon find out what they’re being used for (though it doesn’t take much to guess), and despite the general obviousness of it, it’s still pretty genius.  Santa Claus is also surprisingly, genuinely terrifying—the evil looks that he gives Rauno and the local villagers plotting what to do with him are eerily excellent.

Now that I think about it, the movie this really reminds me of is Trollhunter; both films feature people searching for mythical creatures, and both are very similar in tone.  But comparing them side by side reveals just how unsatisfactory Rare Exports is as a feature length film; Trollhunter (which did admittedly have a slightly higher budget) isn’t afraid to take chances, and to even let some surprising emotions into the mix, nor did it shy away from awe-inspiring effects that honestly took me back to when I was a kid watching Jurassic Park for the first time in a theater.  Rare Exports, while never taking itself seriously, also rarely manages to be that much fun.  

There are some hailing this as a new Christmas tradition, in the same vein as A Christmas Story and National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.  As for me, watching this once per lifetime was plenty enough.

RECAP: It hints at great things that it never even attempts to achieve; Rare Exports is a film with great potential that squanders it at almost every turn.  There aren’t many laughs, and the ending just feels downright cruel, a direct contradiction to the almost lighthearted hijinx throughout.  Effects and acting are good, and it certainly held my attention, but it ends up feeling like one anti-climactic letdown after another. For a movie with a similar tone done right, I’d recommend Trollhunter.

RATING: 5/10

The Santa Clause (1994)

Director: John Pasquin
Writer(s):  Leo Benvenuti and Steve Rudnick
Starring: Tim Allen, Judge Reinhold, Wendy Crewson, and Eric Lloyd

I have a confession to make: I love The Santa Clause.  But I can also admit that, when viewed under even the slightest bit of scrutiny, it’s a pretty terrible film.  For starters, it suffers from the same problem as Home Alone, and that’s that the main child character is surrounded by terribly unlikable adults.  Maybe that’s part of the winning formula for children’s holiday classics; after all, Christmas is generally geared toward children, and so it would make sense to put them in the spotlight of such movies.

The parents in The Santa Clause are despicable in a different way than the McCallisters; they can at least seem to remember that he exists during family vacations, which is a good thing.  But Neil and Laura Miller (Judge Reinhold and Wendy Crewson, respectively) might be even worse—they have already told their six year old son, Charlie, that there is no Santa Claus.  Talk about destroying a childhood!

This news upsets Scott Calvin (Tim Allen), Laura’s ex-husband and biological father to Charlie, who can’t believe they would do something like that.  Of course, Scott doesn’t believe in Santa either, but seems to be desperate to have some kind of connection to his son, and if that means pretending to have something in common with him, then so be it!  But then shit gets a little too real when Scott hears footsteps on his roof.  He runs outside to confront the cause of the noise—only to discover that it’s Santa Claus himself!  Startled, the real Santa tumbles to his death (don’t worry: it’s in a lighthearted enough way that children will still be oblivious to the real-life mortality of everyone around them).  Scott Calvin discovers a card in Santa’s pocket that says in the case of an accident, whoever finds this must take over as the new Santa.  Uh-oh Tim Allen, looks like you’re manning the sleigh this year!

A lot of this whole idea is completely forced—Charlie isn’t too enthused about being forced to spend a night with his dad by himself, and begs to go back home with his mother.  You can even feel the distance in between them, during an awkward dinnertime sequence that takes place at a Denny’s (?).  Honestly, I got the feeling that Scott Calvin was a pretty terrible father, who never really put much effort into connecting with his son…and yet, once he becomes Santa Claus, then we’re all-of-a-sudden supposed to forget his shortcomings as a parent, and cheer for him to win over Charlie’s heart.  Which isn’t hard to do, considering he has the advantage of being SANTA CLAUS, for goodness sakes!

But Neil and Laura go beyond the typical stupidity of holiday movie parents; they are downright cruel.  For example, they find Charlie, who by this point has visited the North Pole with his father and gone on Christmas runs with him, playing in his room with chairs set up as reindeer, and a desk for a sleigh.  They find this behavior—you know, that a six-year-old might have an imagination, and fun by himself—completely odd, and blame Scott as being a negative influence on him.  God forbid this kid ever has an imaginary friend…they would probably try banishing him to a psychiatric hospital.

There’s also the annoyance of Neil and Laura berating Scott for taking on the physical appearance of Santa Claus, which they believe he is pretending to do solely to bond with Charlie, who by now is convinced that his dad is the real Saint Nick.  Right, because it’s completely normal for a man to gain 45 pounds overnight, or to grow a full beard in less than 24 hours, or for someone’s hair to go completely white within a span of a day.

You know what though?  I am willing to forgive some of these shortcomings because it manages to be a lot of mindless fun.  Tim Allen even manages to be funny, something that doesn’t happen very often—his barbs aimed at Neil are often very humorous, and his slow metamorphosis into Santa Claus features some inspired bits.  I laughed a lot more often than I was expecting to, and a lot more often than I do in these typical family-themed films.  The scenes at the North Pole also feature enough whimsical fancy to delight the young, without going overboard—this is just a simple story, simply told, and for that, it is recommended viewing for all ages.

RECAP: There are many frustrating annoyances that prevent it from being great, but The Santa Clause is a holiday classic that I enjoy watching every time I see it.  Tim Allen is actually funny in his role as Scott Calvin-cum-Santa Claus, and while the film certainly doesn’t aim for much, there's just enough humor and whimsy to make it perfect mindless fun for the holidays. 

RATING: 7/10

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Black Christmas (2006)

Director: Glen Morgan
Writer(s): Morgan and Roy Moore
Starring: Michelle Trachtenberg, Mary Elizabeth Winestead, Lacey Chabert, and Katie Cassidy

My now-wife, but then-girlfriend, and I had only been dating for a couple of months before we made the dubious decision to spend our first Christmas together attending a screening of Glen Morgan’s awful Black Christmas remake.  Thankfully, it served as a bonding event, as we both enjoyed some terrible gas station food that she snuck in her purse while we made fun of all the incompetence on display.  Not surprisingly, we were two of the only people there (there might have been one or two other couples, if there was even anyone else at all), because I guess a bad horror movie opening on Christmas Day doesn’t spell immediate box office success.

So I knew going in to a rescreening almost a decade later just how bad Black Christmas is, and time has not at all dulled the edges of what makes this such an unforgivable mess.  Based on a classic horror movie with the same name, from none other than Bob (A Christmas Story) Clark, writer/director Glen Morgan (from Final Destination fame) seems intensely hell-bent on completely destroying the memory of the original in any way that he can.  This clearly isn’t the work of someone who is remaking a movie that they deeply respect; it’s the work of someone who is clearly just trying to earn a paycheck.

The plot is similar to the original, in that a psychotic madman is stalking the inhabitants of a sorority, and offing them one-by-one.  Then, the actresses playing each victim are forced to spend the better part of the next ten years starring in films on either the Lifetime or Hallmark channels.  And that’s really as far as we need to go with the plot, because once things start firing on “all cylinders” (which in this case is no more than one), it’s just one person getting killed right after another.

I’m not at all a fan of the original, which has somehow achieved the status of at least “minor classic”, but when compared to this, it looks like the greatest horror movie ever made.  The characters in this remake are some of the dumbest ever committed to screen; it’s sincerely baffling to me that Glen Morgan would put his name anywhere near the finished product.  But that he proudly displays his name as both writer and director could be seen as a fearless act of defiance; however, I’m more inclined to assume that Morgan had no idea how atrocious this atrocity is, which makes it more a case of oblivious ignorance.

None of the people display even a basic understanding of common sense: Countless times throughout the movie, someone will hear a noise and, no matter how unlikely it is that someone should be there, they will go search for the cause of the sound.  It’s not lost on me that this happens many times in horror movies, but it’s Morgan’s go-to device for murders.  Maybe the killer is smart after all; he knows all he has to do is make a noise, wait, and he doesn’t even have to waste the time stalking any of his victims, because if he’s loud enough, they will come right to him, no matter how much common sense would tell these women to run.

Of course, we learn the killer’s backstory and motives, apparently so Morgan can make sure to remove every possible ounce of ambiguity or mystery or creepiness.  Much of the backstory is rather crude, and unnecessarily over-the-top; it strives for shocks, but it only ends up being shocking for the simple sake of having to be, because it has no other tricks up its sleeve.  Once these scenes wear away, all we’re left with are a series of women getting offed one-by-one, by a killer whose identity we already know.

The only thing it has going for it are a couple of the kill scenes, which manage to be interesting and splattery even while simultaneously being incredibly stupid and (often) predictable).  But even they can’t come close to singlehandedly carrying this film from one tired cliché on to the next one—it’s only 86 minutes long, and can’t even convincingly spread itself out to that length.

Remakes are constantly the focal point of intense hatred from horror fans, and one needs to look no farther than films like this one to understand why.  It’s nothing more than a lazy cash grab from everyone involved; not only does it add nothing new to the original, but somehow ends up subtracting from it.  Bob Clark’s vision at least kept the film grounded in reality and mystery; here, all we have are a bunch of Hollywood has-been’s (or will-never-be’s) exchanging cringe-inducingly awful dialogue before voluntarily walking into their own murders.  No thanks.

RECAP: Achingly awful. If you like the original, steer clear of this one.  If you hated the original, steer clear of this one.  Can almost be watchable if you’re under the heavy influence of drugs or alcohol, but if you’re even close to sober, there is absolutely no reason to support the filmmakers for putting out such half-hearted dreck.  Exactly the kind of films that rightfully give remakes a bad name.

RATING: 1/10

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It's a Wonderful Life (1946)

Director: Frank Capra
Writer(s): Capra, Frances Goodrich, and Albert Hackett, from a story by Philip Van Doren Stern
Starring: James Stewart, Donna Reed, Lionel Barrymore, and Thomas Mitchell

How I had never seen Frank Capra’s It’s a Wonderful Life up until now is a mystery that could puzzle even the world’s greatest detective.  Although my mom and I never really watched a lot of Christmas movies together growing up, save for the old Rudolph and Frosty animated television shorts, this one was by far her favorite.  So far, I’ve purchased it for her twice in two separate Christmases—one way back when I was a teenager, on VHS, and one just a few years ago, on DVD.  I suppose in another handful of years, I’ll probably be buying it for her on whatever futuristic media lies beyond Blu-Ray (unless she eventually latches onto that one).  Yet I don’t recall her ever inviting me to watch it with her, and I know for sure that I never asked her to.

Adding to the mystery is how my wife—whose family still reveres Christmas with the same childhood enthusiasm that unfortunately left me as soon as I left childhood—had also gone the first 26 years of her life having never watched it.  It’s a film that has come to signify the spirit and the meaning of Christmas, perhaps moreso than any other, for millions of people worldwide.  With that in mind, we both set out to right our wrongs and vowed to make this the year that we would finally sit down to a viewing.

You probably know the film’s plot by heart, but I still feel the need to at least throw together a brief summary in the off chance you are uninitiated: James Stewart plays George Bailey, a businessman who helps run a loan company in the small town of Bedford Falls.  Even from his younger days, he has always planned to leave the town and travel around the world the first chance he got, but the death of his father prevents that, and puts him at the head of The Bailey Brothers’ Building and Loan.

Every movie needs a villain, and this one comes in the form of Henry Potter, the richest man in town.  He runs a bank (and just about everything else around), and is used to people falling at his feet; in George, he finds a rival, a man that refuses to bow down to him and accept his greatness.  This frustrates him, and he is constantly plotting ways to either get him on his side or, when that fails, permanently ruin his life.

In the span of one night, George becomes suicidal, which we are alerted will happen at the beginning of the film.  He’s about to jump off a bridge to kill himself, when a man jumps in before him, so George jumps in to save him.  Why George picked that bridge to jump off to kill himself, knowing that the fall wasn’t far enough to kill him outright, is a pretty glaring oversight, but whatever.  Anyway, he saves the "man", who as it turns out is not a man at all, but an angel sent to save him!  I will admit, I fell asleep right after this part, and woke up as he was excited about life again, exclaiming “Merry Christmas” to every stranger he bumps into on the street, in that ridiculously cheesy, over-the-top manner that millions somehow find “endearing”.

Then it of course ends on a happy note, with George avoiding bankruptcy and the townsfolk all banding together to pitch in enough money to replace the 8,000 crucial dollars that he had lost (which Potter found and kept, in a further attempt to ruin George).  It seems George’s generous life of giving has finally turned around back on him!  The citizens of Bedford Falls all pour into his house, all offering him as much money as they can afford, in that ridiculously cheesy, over-the-top manner that millions find “charming”.  Soon after, the words “The End” appeared on screen, and I just felt a sudden burst of happiness in my own life—is this why people find it so inspiring?

It’s a Wonderful Life feels like it was filmed in real-time—it drags and drags on, all just to set up its twenty minute grand finale that I fell asleep through.  It’s all competently made (even though it’s poorly edited, with several terrible jump cuts; then again I don’t watch many old movies, and so it might be a part of movies from that time period), but for a well-received comedy/drama, there are very few laughs, and very little drama.  One thing I hate about old movies that prevents me from forcing myself to sit through them, is the acting technique, in which people virtually yell as loud as they can while striking a pose (a slight exaggeration, but nevertheless a distant cousin to the acting of today).  Such technique is on full display here, and so none of the performances really resonated with me—James Stewart’s actually felt the most exaggerated of the bunch.  But film scholars say it’s good, so I guess it must be!

George’s transformation, from generous, good-natured man, to suddenly suicidal, is just another aspect that feels completely artificial; the way his luck abruptly changes would be more apt in a comedy movie, than one actually attempting to toy with its viewer’s emotions.  I get that his business was struggling for a while, but watching him yell at his children, become an alcoholic, and contemplate killing himself by jumping off the world’s shortest bridge, all basically within a 24-hour span, was legendarily tacky.  People really fall for this empty, forced junk?

As with many Christmas films, and maybe even films in general, I think a lot of warm feelings people get from certain movies, stems from a sense of nostalgia.  Many children grow up watching the same films over and over, beginning from early childhood, and there isn’t even a sliver of doubt early exposure to certain films can create a lifelong appreciation of them that can carry over into their adult years.  The same can be said for movies that are widely accepted as “classics”, which automatically tends to put the viewer in the mindset of unequivocally enjoying the movie, because he or she feels like they are supposed to.

I went in simply with an open mind, and was rewarded with a long evening of boredom, punctuated with an all-too-brief nap that would prove to be the highlight of my viewing experience.

RECAP: It’s a Wonderful Life is a long, drawn-out movie that follows a poorly-written character as he somehow becomes suicidal all within the span of a single day.  Then he learns that such thoughts are silly, because he has too much to live for!  Relying on a series of cheap sentimental scenes, it has, not surprisingly, been hailed as a classic by critics and the masses, who always prove to be suckers for forced writing and empty emotions.  In an ironic twist, I felt like jumping off a bridge by the time it finally ended.

RATING: 3/10

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Gremlins (1984)

Director: Joe Dante
Writer(s): Chris Columbus
Starring: Zach Galligan, Phoebe Cates, Hoyt Axton, and Corey Feldman 

The first time I saw Joe Dante’s Gremlins was about the same time everyone sees Gremlins for the first time—as a small child.  I was so small, in fact, that I didn’t remember a single thing about it, and might have never watched it again had a simple search for popular Christmas movies not placed it back on my radar.

I really wish it hadn’t, because this movie is godawful.  Kids may like it, which is no surprise, considering kids can be entertained by the stupidest of things for hours, but how anyone over the age of ten can enjoy this is beyond me.  It’s the kind of movie where people are given clear instructions on what to do, completely ignore them, and then we are supposed to cheer for them as they try to fix everything wrong that they’ve done.  I don’t get any satisfaction out of cheering for complete morons.

Gremlins begins with some idiot dad going into a creepy, hidden shop in Chinatown.  He’s an inventor, and apparently feels the best place to sell some of his items is in a hidden shop so far off the beaten path that the owner’s grandson has to lead him to it.  Anyway, while he’s there, he hears noises coming from a small chest, and discovers what the owner and his grandson call a “mogwai”:  he’s a cute little furry creature that strongly resembles a Furby (through no coincidence; Tiger Electronics clearly modeled the look of their “smart toy” after the little guy).  The owner refuses to sell the mogwai to the inventor, but he ends up talking the grandson into selling it to him.

After the purchase, he is alerted to three super-important rules: 1.) Keep the mogwai away from bright lights, but especially sunlight. 2.) Do not put him anywhere near water, and 3.) Do not feed him after midnight (a curious rule, considering feeding him at 8 a.m. is technically “after midnight,” and no specific timeframe is ever mentioned).  The inventor dad immediately gives it to his son, Billy (who I was thinking would be very young from the way the dad was talking about him to the shop owner, but he turns out to be a teenager), and alerts him to the three rules.  True-to-form, Billy’s friend knocks water onto the poor creature, because it seemingly is impossible to not have water anywhere near something at all times.  This causes him to “give birth” to several other adorable mogwais. 

Fascinated by this, Billy takes him to his science teacher for analysis, but conveniently forgets to warn him of the rules; things get bad when he feeds a mogwai after midnight, causing him to turn into an evil gremlin!  Astonishingly, Billy also feeds his mogwai offspring after midnight, because he didn’t realize that his clock was stuck at 11:40 for three hours—as it turns out, they cut the cord to the clock to trick Billy into feeding them!

At first, the freshly-born mogwais all look cute and innocent, but soon turn into evil gremlins who want to make life terrible for all of mankind.  And there you have it…it alternates between scenes of the gremlins terrorizing Gizmo, the cute and initial mogwai the dad purchased from the shop, with scenes of them causing destruction all over the town.  And of course it’s up to Billy to stop it.

The writing is flat and terrible; there is a strongly divisive scene in the middle of Gremlins where the film’s obligatory love interest/female lead Kate, recalls a horrifying story to Billy, about the surprisingly disturbing fate of her father one Christmas Eve.  Everything about this scene is terrible, from the timing (the two are looking for something, and Billy never even acknowledges her as she talks, so it just feels like she’s rambling on for no reason), on down to the content, which could have been played for laughs, but is completely and utterly serious.  Steven Spielberg and Chris Columbus (the film’s executive producer and writer, respectively) both wanted it cut from the movie, because they couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be sad or funny.  Director Joe Dante fought to keep it in, claiming that also summarized the entire gist of the movie (which isn’t true—it’s clearly supposed to be comical), and inexplicably won.  I feel I have to congratulate him on owning up to one of the worst scenes ever included in any film.

Gremlins only has two things going for it, and neither involve writing: the excellent effects work, and the fact that Gizmo is one of the most adorable things ever put on screen.  Scenes of the evil gremlins frantically riding bikes are hysterical—it’s a shame there wasn’t more of a focus put on their scenes, beyond showing them grumble incoherent phrases while they drink and smoke (a joke that wears off after the millionth time it’s shown).  Meanwhile, Gizmo is so freakin’ adorable that you just want to jump through the screen and give him the world’s biggest hug—his noises and songs only add to his utter adorableness.  It’s really no surprise that his look was ripped off for the popular toy line.

Rumor has it that the movie was originally going to be even darker, featuring a scene where Billy’s mom was decapitated; her head tossed down the stairs for comedic effect.  As filming commenced, the filmmakers agreed to tone down the violence, to make it more palatable for younger viewers.  It was rated PG upon release, but many felt that the violence and dark tone was too strong for a PG, but not nearly enough to warrant an R—this, along with Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, lead to the MPAA creating the PG-13 rating.  Now imagine if Steven Spielberg actually made daring, audacious movies instead of mainstream crowd-pleasers—he might have helped usher in a rating between R and NC-17, like one Roger Ebert was calling for, for decades. 

Instead, we have a movie that came from a script that Spielberg himself said, at the time, was “one of the most original things I’ve come across in many years”.  It comes as no surprise to me that the master of bland, safe blockbusters would both call this “original” and find something in here actually worth making.

RECAP: Painfully unfunny and poorly written, Gremlins succeeds only in the excellent special effects work; scenes of the evil gremlins riding bikes and cackling with sadistic glee are hilarious.  Unfortunately, most of their scenes merely consist of them angrily talking while they smoke cigarettes and drink alcohol.  Gizmo is utterly adorable, and the sole consistent bright spot.  If you do get stuck watching this, for whatever reason, look for Kate’s monologue, which is one of the worst scenes ever included in a film.  Whether you’re wanting to view this as a Christmas movie, or a movie for any other day of the year, don’t.

RATING: 2.5/10

KATE'S MONOLOGUE:

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National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation (1989)

Director: Jeremiah S. Chechik
Writer(s): John Hughes
Starring: Chevy Chase, Beverly D'Angelo, Juliette Lewis, Johnny Galecki

The hardest movies to look at subjectively are the ones that we gather around the fireplace to watch every year: yes, I am talking about Christmas movies.  A lot of them are simply tradition; I don’t doubt many people get yuletide joy out of watching the same movies over and over again during the holiday season (hence the 24-hour A Christmas Story marathons), but I’ve just grown numb to a lot of them.  I don’t want to sound like a Scrooge—I like the holiday season and enjoy the atmosphere, so it has nothing to do with that—but once I know every joke and can recite large portions of dialogue from memory, that’s a sign it’s time to skip five years.

And so it can become kind of unfair to review a movie like National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, long after the events have permanently etched themselves into my brain.  Most Christmas movies I manage to avoid watching annually, but considering this is my wife and her family’s favorite one, I think I have literally watched it for at least seven out of the last nine years we’ve been together…very little joy remains.

By now, I think everyone knows the story, so I will severely abridge this: It’s Christmastime at the Griswold house, “lead” by Clark (Chevy Chase), a caring father but hapless dolt of a man who screws up everything that he touches.  Things don’t get any better when the rest of the immediate family show up; covering every comedy stereotype from the hard-of-hearing grandma, to the sour in-laws, and just about everything else in between, it’s ensured that no one has even an ounce of fun between all the bickering and cartoonish hijinx.  Save for the viewer, of course!

It should come as no surprise that, by the end, they all learn a thing or two about the spirit of Christmas.  Well, not so much the actual biblical meaning of Christmas, but that it’s a time for loving, and giving, and gathering with loved ones and friends and family.  Thankfully, all that happens after we have had our fill of hilarity, and we can flip off the DVD player (or Blu-Ray, or VCR) with a renewed sense of holiday cheer.

Christmas Vacation is obvious, the way all Christmas movies are, but it’s also funny; the jokes come fast and furious, and it’s all lighthearted and silly stuff.  There is a surprising amount of swearing that I had completely forgotten about (the “s” word is mentioned around five times, and even “gd” makes an appearance once), so it’s probably not suitable for young kids, but then again, that’s why it’s rated PG-13.  The cast is perfect in their roles, especially a pre-insane Randy Quaid, who steals the show as Clark’s completely-white trash cousin-in-law, and a pre-egotistical Chevy Chase as Clark himself.  Julia-Louis Dreyfuss also has a hilarious role as the Griswold’s rich and stuck-up next door neighbor.

Its only crime is that it’s a holiday tradition, so all the excitement of sitting down to a viewing has been worn completely thin.  But even with this complaint cast aside—even if this was just a typical movie that wasn’t glued to holiday tradition—it would still be too obvious and predictable to be any kind of classic.  So even though I’ve seen it a dozen times, and I’m sure the future holds at least a dozen more viewings, I’m confident in saying that my rating would stay more or less the same.

RECAP: Christmas Vacation is certainly a funny film, and although years of repeat viewings have kind of worn the excitement thin for me, even if it wasn’t required annual viewing, the jokes are too predictable and obvious to be any kind of comedy classic.  Still, it’s great for what it is, with the whole cast delivering solid performances, and Chevy Chase, Randy Quaid, and Julia Louis-Dreyfuss standing out as the best amongst all of them.  At the very least, no matter how terrible your latest Christmas was, chances are it will always be better than the Griswold’s, simply by default.  A pleasant time-waster that will deliver some yuletide laughter.

RATING: 7/10

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Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2 (1987)

Director: Lee Harry
Writer(s): Harry and Joseph H. Earle. Based on a story by Harry, Earle, Dennis Patterson, and Lawrence Applebaum. From characters by Michael Hickey and Paul Caimi.
Starring: Eric Freeman, James Newman, and Elizabeth Kaitan

What can you say about a film like Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2?  Actually, there’s a lot you can say about it: this is a movie so terribly amateurish, that I am not at all exaggerating when I say it makes the first one look like a horror classic.  Everything good about the original (and there were some positives, until it all completely falls apart in the second half) is completely squandered by this misguided sequel, which would technically be considered a short film if all the footage from the first was removed.

If you have already seen the first one, you can literally skip to somewhere around the 40 minute mark here...and I’m not kidding.  The entire intro is made up of Ricky, the brother of the murderer in the first one, explaining to a psychiatrist everything leading up to the fate of his beloved brother.  Then, he goes on to discuss how watching his brother die turned him into a murderer.  After this, he proceeds to randomly kill a bunch of people in the least imaginative ways possible.

I’m not going to waste a lot of time on this one, because it’s obvious the filmmakers didn’t, either.  This movie would have completely (and rightfully) fallen into obscurity, if it weren’t for Ricky exclaiming “Garbage Day!” as he shoots a man shielding himself with a garbage can, a scene that somehow went viral.  It might have been humorous, if all of Ricky’s lines weren’t declared in that same hamhanded, over-the-top style; and wait until he gets his hands on a gun, when we’re treated to roughly five minutes worth of him smiling and giggling with unrestrained glee.

The only good thing in this entire movie is Elizabeth Kaitan, who plays Ricky’s kind-of girlfriend Jennifer, who he also ends up murdering, when she takes offense to him flying off the handle and electrocuting her ex-boyfriend.  Kaitan has a certain innocent look to her that really makes her endearing, and while her acting chops aren’t grade A, they don’t even have to be close to stand out in a film like this.  It also helps that she’s incredibly beautiful…how the filmmakers managed to lure her into a pile of junk like this defies all logic.

There’s probably plenty that I’m missing, but all you need to know is, unless you’re a fan of epically bad horror movies, then don’t even bother.  Thank goodness for libraries, so I didn’t even have to waste a penny on this junk.

RECAP: Remove all footage from the first movie, and this would technically be a 45 minute short film.  Remove everything else the original had going for it, and you’d be left with Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2.  The only plus is Elizabeth Kaitan as Jennifer, who isn’t in it very long before meeting her demise, just like everyone else. Mostly unimaginative deaths, little gore, and no imagination make this one a yuletide flop that should be avoided by just about everyone, except for bad movie buffs.

RATING: 1.5/10

"GARBAGE DAY!"

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Home Alone 2: Lost in New York (1992)

Director: Chris Columbus
Writer(s): John Hughes, based on characters by Hughes
Starring: Macaulay Culkin, Joe Pesci, Daniel Stern, Catherine O'Hara

If you’ve seen the first Home Alone, then there’s really no reason to waste time watching the second.  Sure, the settings have changed, and so have some of the characters, but you’ll get a feeling of déjà vu, especially if you are expecting something a little different from the original.  Home Alone worked in spite of itself—for starters, how in the hell could two parents forget their own son—but all of that was forgiven thanks to the charm of Macaulay Culkin as Kevin McCallister, the pitch-perfect lunacy of Daniel Stern and Joe Pesci as the two inept burglars trying to break into his house, and the sheer craziness of it all. 

But how do you make a sequel to a movie that already covered just about all the ground that it could possibly cover?  That’s simple: you keep the formula that made the original so much money, but move it to a different setting, and hope that it works.  And that’s exactly what the filmmakers did, and it doesn’t.

The biggest sin Home Alone 2 commits, is also another grievance that befalls many sequels:  it tries to be bigger than its predecessor.  So instead of just facing off against the same two bumbling burglars from the first one (who happened to break out of jail, and just happened to stumble into New York on the same day Kevin does), he now has to face suspicious hotel workers, and the general terror of living in the big city.  In other words, gone is the wonderful simplicity of the first, replaced by a movie that seems so desperate to entertain, that it tosses one half-baked idea right after another at the viewer.

Everything here starts off the same: every family member shows up to the McCallister’s the night before a planned trip to Florida.  Once again, Kevin is forced to sleep upstairs, and once again, an alarm error forces them to be late (this time, Kevin’s dad accidentally unplugs his alarm, and not one single other person sets one as a backup).  This time, however, Kevin makes it to the airport with his family, who once again must run so fast that basic human functions, like making sure Kevin is with them, cease to work.  Before you know it, he has lagged behind (from trying to put batteries into his Talkboy recording device), and ends up following the wrong person to the wrong plane.  Uh oh!  Once again, his parents don’t even notice until they are well up in the air.

Which brings me to another point: The first one also managed to at least elicit a modicum of sympathy for the parents, even though the mother was an insufferable bitch, and the dad seemed more interested in ignoring the situation, and attempting to make the most of his vacation.  But to let it happen AGAIN…that’s almost enough to get a writer’s artistic license permanently revoked, even within the broader confines of a children’s movie.  And just because it pokes fun of the situation itself doesn’t make it any easier to accept; the worst scene involves Kevin’s mother berating hotel employees for letting her son check in without a parent.  Wait, aren’t you the woman that lost him…twice…and you’re going to try to make them look like the idiots?  Uh uh, not this time.

Continuing the tradition of having a believed-to-be-creepy-but-really-just-misunderstood character in these, we meet the Pigeon Woman, so called because she always has pigeons hanging all around her.  Once again poor Kevin is terrified of her at first, only to learn that she’s a good person; they also end up passing on helpful advice to each other (though this time, hearing a much older woman seek love counseling from a 10-year-old child is really kinda creepy, but maybe that was just me).

Even the film’s duration gets the “bigger is better” treatment, with its run-time clocking in at a bloated two hours, more than fifteen minutes longer than the first; it feels even longer considering it’s got no new ground to trod, or nothing new to say.  I praised the first for holding our attention until it got around to the cartoony violence—this one also holds off on the violence until the end, the only difference being that I nearly dozed off twice before we made it there.

Of course, this review (as with just about all of mine) are more geared toward the adult-point-of-view; undiscerning children will no doubt find plenty to like here, assuming they enjoyed the first one.  At the risk of sounding like a real Scrooge, I must confess that Home Alone 2 is every bit as boring as the first one was entertaining. 

RECAP: Not even Macaulay Culkin can save it this time around—this is essentially the first one, only with a change of settings, and an overabundance of characters and plot elements.  It’s in direct contradiction of what made the first one, namely its charming simplicity, so effective.  Laughs are few and far between, and the two hour run time is ridiculously excessive.  It has its moments, and it will certainly entertain the little ones for a while, but there aren’t enough of them to justify slogging through this recycled landfill of overused ideas.

RATING: 4.5/10

Silent Night, Deadly Night (1984) (Unrated Director's Cut)

Director: Charles E. Sellier, Jr.
Writer(s): Paul Caimi and Michael Hickey, from a story by Caimi
Starring: Lilyan Chauvin, Gilmer McCormick, and Toni Nero

My my, how times do change.  It was roughly thirty years ago that Charles E. Sellier Jr.’s serial killin’ Santa hit the big screen, to impassioned protests from angry parents concerned about the level of sex and violence contained in a Christmas movie.  Although pulled from its initial release due to public pressure, future releases have used the controversy as a selling point…along with the four sequels that it spawned.  Nowadays, a movie this tame could open without anyone so much as batting an eye (like the god-awful remake of Bob Clark’s Black Christmas, which opened on Christmas Day in 2006 with little-to-no resistance).

Silent Night, Deadly Night is a curious picture; one that reverses the typical complaints I have with slasher films.  I’ve made the analogy before that slasher movies are akin to pornographic movies; not because they feature often copious amounts of sex and nudity, but because the only reason people watch them is to see the violent kill scenes.  Obviously, this is parallel to pornos, where people skip the story to get straight to the “good stuff”.

Normally, I share this mindset, as many slasher films have threadbare plots designed solely to contain as many graphic scenes of mayhem as possible.  Silent Night, Deadly Night is the first one I can remember that gets off to a great start, only to get derailed once the pointless murders start to take place.  This bummed me out, because the first half-hour really exceeded my expectations, to the point that I thought we might have a new Christmas movie tradition in our family; alas, it only turned out to be a lump of coal.

Billy is a child who was orphaned after watching his mother and father get killed by a man dressed up as Santa Claus (he had used the disguise to rob a bank).  Life doesn’t get much better in the orphanage, where he is treated like garbage by a sadistic Mother Superior (Lilyan Chauvin).  The only person who seems to understand his ordeal is Sister Margaret, but even she is powerless to stand up to her boss, and so the punishments continue.

We flash forward ten years later, and Billy is now all growed up (well, he’s eighteen).  Sister Margaret manages to get him a job in a local toy store, leading to one of the cheesiest, most ill-fitting (and absolutely hysterical) montages in cinema history.  If it was purely intentional, it’s easily the most inspired thing in the entire movie; it really is a stroke of absolute genius (I always expect him to smile at the camera during the scene, which can be viewed below, while his name appears underneath, in an ode to old sitcoms).

Of course, neither Billy, nor Sister Margaret has revealed his “problem” to anyone, and so when he gets nervous around Christmastime, everyone just thinks that he’s weird.  Also of course, when Billy’s boss approaches him, asking him to play Santa Claus after their initial choice breaks his ankle while ice skating, he somehow accepts, the lingering trauma of his childhood still fresh on his mind.

Surprisingly, he manages to keep it together throughout the day, only severely creeping children out, without snapping.  But everything comes to a head when the store is closed, and the manager brings out alcohol.  He encourages Billy to drink…bad move.  Before long, he’s strangling an attempted rapist with a string of Christmas lights…then turns his anger on the victim.  The rest of the movie he spends killing anyone who happens to get in his way, whether they are good or bad, naughty or nice.  But before he does, he always says the word “punish” in an indescribably annoying way that grates at the nerves before long. 

Along with the drop in the overall quality of the film, there is also a correlatable dip in the dependability of the performances.  All of the main players at least met my expectations, with many of them exceeding it; yet when the film decides to drop two dimensions and become a one-dimensional killfest, with victims that only have time to make out and get naked before they are killed, the acting talent takes a noticeable nosedive.  It honestly feels like two separate movies were blended into one, with results that are about on par with what you would expect.

RECAP: It starts off fascinating, by actually trying to create a backstory for the killer, instead of just setting him loose on victims; once it does set him loose, all the interest is gone.  The kill scenes aren’t anything too original or spectacular, with very few of them having any kind of Christmas theme.  The biggest plus is an absolutely genius, randomly cheesy montage that occurs about at the halfway mark…you have to see it to believe it.  Aside from that, if you’re a slasher completist, then you might want to check this one out, otherwise I would just watch the montage and steer clear from the rest.

RATING: 5/10

BRILLIANT MONTAGE

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Home Alone (1990)

Director: Chris Columbus
Writer(s): John Hughes
Starring: Macaulay Culkin, Joe Pesci, Daniel Stern, and Catherine O'Hara

Like a lot of popular Christmas movies, Home Alone more or less thrives on complete stupidity: It’s in the plot, where an entire family somehow forgets an 8-year-old child, leaving him back at home in the States while they go off to Paris.  It’s in the two dimwitted burglars who not only are outsmarted by a child, but continue to go after him, despite earning what would be the equivalent of several fatal injuries.  Basically, there’s nary a scene that goes by that isn’t completely full of stupid.

Yet it works.  Despite the complete lack of intelligence; despite the obligatory and forced sad scene; despite a screenplay that’s every bit as dumb as almost every single character, Home Alone somehow manages to be a whole lot of fun. 

Macauley Caulkin plays 8-year-old Kevin McAllister, who is left home alone after his parents, and dozens of other relatives, all somehow manage to oversleep during a power outage, and in the ensuing rush, completely forget they have an 8-year-old son.  Never mind how it happens, because it’s every bit as ridiculous (and unbelievable) as it sounds.  All that you need to know, is that it does.

In a blind frenzy, it isn’t until the plane is up in the air that Kevin’s mother (Catherine O’Hara) realizes that she has left her son behind.  Meanwhile, Kevin is living life large at home, eating ice cream and sweets all day, as he absorbs violent movies on television.  He ransacks his brother’s room, jumps on the bed, and does everything else little children dream of growing up to be able to do.

But it’s not all fun and games.  A couple of hoodlums have targeted his house, after one of them poses as a policeman and learns that the family will be on vacation as of the next morning.  And they will stop at nothing to gain entrance into the house, which they are convinced are full of precious, priceless goodies.  Can Kevin prevent them from entering the premises, or will be end up being brutally slaughtered at the hand of these dimwits?

Home Alone’s biggest problem is the family, who are all pretty much irredeemably ugly people, both inside, and out.  Kevin’s mother is the only one who ever seems to care about the entire situation—marvel at the way the rest of the family, including his own father, would rather just try to shrug off the situation as if it were merely a garage door left open.  Kevin’s biggest fear seems to be that his family doesn’t love him, and for the entire movie, it sadly seems that he is on to something.

But even for her caring, his mother still seems like a cruelly cold woman.  Take the beginning, where she (and the whole family) get mad at Kevin for merely acting like an 8-year-old child—as punishment for ruining several pizzas, she sends him up to the cold, dark attic, completely alone.  What kind of mother would do that to someone that’s so young?  Of course, it ends up being for the sake of the screenplay (it’s much easier to forget someone in the attic, far away from everyone else), but it just feels vicious and unnecessary.  The family also makes fun of him for not being able to pack his own suitcase…AT EIGHT YEARS OLD.  We only have to spend fifteen minutes with this family, and even before the major gaffe that leaves a seemingly helpless child all alone with no hope, we can see where Kevin is coming from.

What Home Alone does best, is by somehow managing to keep everything interesting and watchable until the final half-hour, when the goons finally manage to gain access to the McAllister’s house, leading to a non-stop parade of physical (and cartoonishly funny) violence.  Joe Pesci and Daniel Stern are absolutely perfect as the two burglars, with Pesci’s tough guy persona (he was, after all, a legitimate tough guy in Martin Scorsese’s Goodfellas) being played for laughs, while Stern is his dimwitted assistant.  I honestly can’t picture a better pairing, and them, along with the obviousness of Macaulay Culkin’s strong, cutesy performance as Kevin, are what make this picture what it is (with an assist to Roberts Blossom, as the obligatory “creepy”, yet misunderstood neighbor).

And just what is Home Alone?  To me, it’s the rare holiday movie that I can sit down to a viewing of once a year, and never tire of.  It’s that unusual holiday picture that, despite its boundless stupidity and even unintentional cruelty, perhaps best captures the boundless, carefree excitement of the holidays.

RECAP:  Home Alone is that one holiday movie that I look forward to watching.  It’s certainly not perfect, but no character that I’ve yet to encounter perfectly encapsulates the carefree wonders of the holidays quite like Kevin McCallister.  What child hasn’t at one point wished that their parents would disappear?  Of course, Kevin soon learns that complete freedom isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, but by the time that happens, he’s already left his mark, permanently, on pop culture.  Great movie.

RATING: 8/10.

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