When I mentioned to my wife that I was thinking about reviewing the apocalyptic thriller and committed bummer Leave the World Behind, she was not entirely on board. “Really? You want people to read a review of that? On Christmas?” My son concurred. The idea of my tens of readers enjoying the bounty of December 25, then reading a review of a movie about the collapse of civilization was a yuletide bridge too far. 

They suggested, nearly insisted, that I review a Christmas movie. I pushed back, it must be noted, for no good reason. But did I really want to bum everyone out on Christmas Day? Nah, not so much. It’s more that I have an instinctive aversion to your standard Christmas movie. If a brightly lit tree, cheer, and families hugging appear on screen, I’m usually out.

But why? More importantly, what even is a Christmas movie, anyway?* The most reductive explanation would be a film that’s specifically about Christmas. Your Miracle on 34th Street, Scrooged, Klaus, A Christmas Story, Home Alone, It’s a Wonderful Life, and so many others would fit the bill nicely. They don’t just feature the expected iconography of Yule, they drill down into the traditional themes of family, togetherness, a hope for peace on Earth, and all the rest of that crap.

Speaking of crap, the standard-issue Hallmark Christmas movie must inevitably enter the chat, no? You know the one, where our stressed main character must leave her corporate job in New York/Seattle/Los Angeles and return to her small and picturesque hometown, where she Meets Cute with a hunky blacksmith/rancher/artisanal cracker manufacturer and she learns What Really Matters In Life. Hallmark Christmas movies are virtually identical, and I think that’s meant to be a good thing in the same way a warm bath is identical to all the other warm baths. They’re designed for consistency in a world that seems like it’s spiraling toward chaos. 

Can a Christmas movie still be considered to be a Christmas movie if it’s anti-Christmas? My friend Amon has a longstanding tradition of watching the pitch black film The Ref every year. It’s a scabrous comedy about a group of loathsome Connecticut yuppies held hostage by an increasingly irritated cat burglar. It’s really about a group of people (can they really be considered a family any longer?) obligated to follow traditions and determined to ignore the parts about empathy and decency. The Ref hasn’t had the cinematic shelf life it deserves, in large part due to Kevin Spacey being one of the leads, but it cannot be denied that it’s a Christmas movie through and through.*

This being the United States, some (many? most?) of us like to celebrate the holidays with a heaping helping of gunfire, stabbings, stranglings, explosions, and mayhem of the general variety. That’s where cinema like The Long Kiss Goodnight, Batman Returns, and Violent Night comes to play. Christmas generally serves as a backdrop for action setpieces, and there’s a minor sprinkling of theme amidst the carnage. Was this concept single handedly invented by Shane Black when he wrote Lethal Weapon? Sure, why not! 

That brings us to the great holiday non-controversy of Die Hard. Is it a Christmas movie? I mean, it takes place on Christmas Eve, so it must count, right? I mean…maybe? Die Hard is really about a guy trying to save his marriage and, for the sake of it, he willingly places himself in a situation that’s initially annoying and ultimately life-threatening – much like many family gatherings. The thing is, Lethal Weapon is more about Christmas in that it’s about a high-stress burnout learning to reconnect with people again and how found family can be the strongest. Having said that, Bruce Willis has proven to have a longer shelf life than Mel Gibson for a host of reasons, so that’s probably why we’re not all talking about how Martin Riggs saved Christmas.

I have a memory of someone telling me that their preferred Christmas tradition was to watch David Cronenberg’s The Fly. It bears mentioning that this brilliantly nasty piece of body horror has nothing whatsoever to do with the holiday season. At no point does Brundlefly wear a Santa hat while menacing Geena Davis. At no point are cookies and milk placed into a telepod. So why did this person choose to make that film a tradition? 

Because a Christmas movie is whatever you want it to be, and whatever it needs to be in the moment. That person who watches The Fly while adorning the hearth with tinsel is honoring a memory. They might have been that weird kid who couldn’t relate to people singing carols, who didn’t have a tight knit family or a gazillion friends. I would bet money that it started ironically, that first Christmas Eve, and they snickered at the weirdness of the idea. As time went on, a peculiar cinematic alchemy took hold and what was once a joke became very real, very comforting, and very joyful. At the end of the day, or the season, isn’t that what it’s about? Comfort and joy?

If you’re reading this, you might have a preferred Christmas movie, or a Hanukkah movie, or an Ashura movie, or a Rohatsu movie. What’s your holiday cinema of choice?

*You could say the same thing for the same reasons about Bad Santa.

Tim Brennan
Tim has been alarmingly enthusiastic about movies ever since childhood. He grew up in Boulder and, foolishly, left Colorado to study Communications in Washington State. Making matters worse, he moved to Connecticut after meeting his too-good-for-him wife. Drawn by the Rockies and a mild climate, he triumphantly returned and settled down back in Boulder County. He's written numerous screenplays, loves hiking, and embarrassed himself in front of Samuel L. Jackson. True story.  
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