(I posted this post on my favorite Christmas films a couple of years ago; I thought I would revive it for the Christmas season. I had hoped to add a film or two but after screening several, no film made my “special” cut. If anyone out there has a suggestion on some hidden gem of a Christmas film that I may have missed, I would love to hear it!)
While I like a lot of Christmas films (e.g., the funny and sweet Elf, the delightful Christmas in Connecticut, the moving The Gathering, to name just a few) there are six Christmas films that are special for me. My favorite Christmas films are films that have a special Christmas punch to them, something about them that imbues its story with what is special about Christmas. More pointedly, I have always thought that Christmas, whether in religious terms or just in terms of a general “spiritual” (humanist) sensibility, gives us a kind of utopian sensibility, where humanity somehow rises above its baser impulses and desires and finds its most progressive horizon of being. I think you’ll see what I mean in some of my following blurbs:
Favorite Christmas Films
(6) A Christmas Story (1983, Bob Clark)
Like so many others I just adore this film! I think what makes this film so special for me is how it exudes a nostalgia sensibility, even if its time period (roughly late 30s to mid-40s) is well before most of us were born. The nostalgic sensibility stems from it so colorfully capturing the “innocence” of childhood memories, both good and bad (though the “bad” is never an unsafe bad, keeping the film comfortably, endearingly, tension-free), and especially in capturing the longing for a desired Christmas present. We have all experienced Ralphie’s deeply felt yearning for a precious object that may or may not be obtainable; for Ralphie (Peter Billingsley) it is the “Red Ryder Carbine Action 200-shot Range Model Air Rifle,” a stand-in for whatever was our most desired childhood object. In addition to the specificity of this most cherished of childhood memories (and childhood memories in general as the film gives us many episodes of memorable incidences that also analogically replicate our own specific-to-us childhood memories) is the film’s creation of a time period that also inexplicably creates a strange kind of yearning for a past that most of us have never experienced, a time period that just seems so much more intimate and tactile, a simpler time when people were more connected to each other and to fulfilling simpler needs. The biggest challenges were battling furnaces and a neighbor’s dogs (and, for the mother, how to handle an all too “sexy” lamp!). Interestingly, the film is most definitely not syrupy sentimental but indeed offers us a pretty cynical and at times coarse series of characters and situations (e.g., a most definitely un-cheerful and crusty mall Santa Claus!) – including parents (played by the wonderful Darren McGavin and Melinda Dillon) who are not the overly romanticized, idyllic, mythological Norman Rockwell parents that are often associated with this time period – but indeed to my mind this only enhances I think the nostalgia of this film, for it gives us a more believable and relatable past, one that is grumpy, prickly, dysfunctional, yes, and yet through it all still loving, endearing, and deeply connective.
(5) The Bishop’s Wife (1947, Henry Koster)
Okay, let me first begin with an admission: One of my lifelong favorite actors is the incomparable Cary Grant! So, any film that has him in it already begins with a warm anticipation. Add in for The Bishop’s Wife that Grant is cast as an angel (albeit a sexy, suave, and irreverent angel!) and, well, the film had me before I even watched it the first time many years ago. And it doesn’t disappoint: Grant is simply wonderful in this role, using all of his charm, warmth, famous suaveness, and, I might add, subtle subversiveness (more on this in a moment) to make him one of the most memorable angels of all time. And let me just also add that the film perfectly casts the all-important character of Julia: Few actresses can exude the warmth, kindness, and sensitiveness (spirituality) as Loretta Young can. In terms of deepness, the story here is a familiar one but nonetheless potent in its telling: Bishop Henry (David Niven) loses sight of what is important (e.g., his wife, his friends, his community, his congregation, his investment in helping the most vulnerable) for his singular drive to schmooze with the rich Mrs. Hamilton (Gladys Cooper) and other “vulgar rich” (as Professor Wutheridge — played by the deliciously delightful Monty Woolly — puts it), which means compromising his values and priorities so he can build a cathedral, an edifice displayed in a painting placed prominently in his study (signifying its central place in his consciousness) and becoming a glaring symbol of excess and the meaninglessness that comes with its pursuit. My favorite line in the film — a line that I think sums up the film’s message — is this one: Dudley: “If people could only learn to behave like human beings,” a line that informs what the film overall defines as being an authentic “human being,” a deeply utopian element in the film, “human being” defined as living for Others in all of its manifestations (e.g., sharing, helping, inspiring, connecting to, giving to Others), Dudley even inspiring Mrs. Hamilton to give to the poor instead of building her desired empty monument to a husband she didn’t even love, Dudley reminding her of her true lost love, a feeling that reminds her of her own profound mistake in life, pursuing monetary rewards instead of authentic (spiritual) love. Finally, I just have to note another interesting element in this film: Part of Dudley’s strategy is to remind both Julia and Henry of what they have lost, their intimate and connective moments in life, Dudley in effect achieving this by taking Henry’s place, but what this strategy does is actually instill a real love and desire for Julia, even to the point of Dudley apparently ready to give up his angel status for a return to earthly form! Most deliciously (especially for a 1947 film!) is the very real sexual tension that just exudes from their time together, even if, as the film wants us to believe, this desire is unconscious on Julia’s part, though, to my mind, not (as Grant slyly acts through) on Dudley’s part.
(4) Miracle on 34th Street (1947, George Seaton)
More so than any other film on this list, Miracle on 34th Street is the nostalgic film from my childhood. I can remember watching this film every Christmas as a child and adolescent, loving this more realistic rendition of a true and “authentic” Santa Claus. (The startling moment that for me just sums up the film’s power and just exhilarates with enough proof for Kris really being Santa Claus was when Kris Kringle/Santa Claus speaks Dutch to a Dutch child who has just been adopted by an American family and has virtually no one else to talk to, just such a precious and endearing moment in the film!) Today, though, I can see just how deep the film is, its message of the truly dehumanizing consequences of the commercialization of Christmas and its message of attempting to rectify the growing alienation of people and the concurrent cynicism that comes with such a mode of being. In putting Kris (Edmund Gwenn) on trial, the trial isn’t really about whether Kris is really Santa Claus or not – what I loved so much about the film when I was a child – but rather what Kris represents, a return to humanistic values where it isn’t about ruthless competition and profit but rather about putting people before profit, about a utopian life affirming (spiritual) connection between people that is all about unconditional faith in each other, a faith dictated on trust, honesty, and a general good will towards each other. Moreover, in deeply embittered and cynical Doris (Maureen O’Hara), we get another layer of alienation: Doris believed in “fairy tale” marriages but when her marriage failed, she became disillusioned and pessimistic in general, a deeply dehumanized way of being in the world. Her job as an event director for Macy’s only deepens her cynicism, for the reasons I convey above, e.g., she sees first hand just how mercenary her employer is, including how it dishonestly markets itself as a benevolent (family values) entity. In finally believing in Kris, Doris also regains her belief in humanity again, which, in turn, means taking another chance on love and marriage. In short, the film is a life affirming film, emphasizing that to be human means to be spiritually connected to each other, which is only possible through seeing meaning and purpose and enrichment in life not through materialism and greed and succumbing to the dehumanized state of alienation but through profound (spiritual) connections with Others.
(3) Joyeux Noel (2005, Christian Carion)
The reason that Joyeux Noel is so profound and inspiring is because it reveals the profound power of Christmas to not only momentarily stop a war – stop human beings from killing fellow human beings – but to transcend so much entailed in war, cultural and ideological differences, ideological ingrained conflicts and demonization of Others, all of that which is how fellow human beings are turned into enemies. In this film we see how three different factions – Germans, French, and Scots – via the breakout of Christmas/holy songs, create their own “cease fire” for first Christmas Eve and then Christmas. The feeling that is inspired by Christmas – the birth of Christ and Christ’s message of peace on Earth and goodwill to one’s fellow man – momentarily ends hostilities between enemies and makes all of the soldiers human beings, a deeply utopian moment. What is even more profound is that in the ensuing investment of getting to know each other, it becomes difficult to then go back to killing each other, as we see when both sides do something incredibly radical, alerting each other to artillery bombardment and thus inviting the enemy into each other’s trenches, saving each other from the falling bombs. Preceding this miraculous moment, the film starkly demonstrates the brutality of war and its monstrous degradation of humanity – making the miracle of this spontaneous Christmas moment all the more profound – but it is the ensuing denouement of this miraculous hope in humanity that is even more bleakly felt as higher up authorities learn of this miraculous cease fire and come down on the leaders and men of this act hard. Because of this extreme contrast, the higher ups’ angry and punitive reaction only enhances the miracle of the moment; that is, since these higher ups are so hardened in their ideologies that they cannot see how profound this moment is, we can better appreciate just how special it is that these men have not been conditioned out of their humanity. We especially see these higher ups’ loss of humanity with a bishop who condemns a pastor (Gary Lewis) for his part in the Christmas miracle and then goes on to give a militant sermon that stresses God’s sanction in killing Germans! As depressing as the pre-miracle and post-miracle moments are, the Christmas miracle itself speaks volumes about the potentiality of humanity to rise above its baser drives, a potentiality that can only give us hope in our potential for the kind of profound collectivity we see with the soldiers.
(2) A Christmas Carol (1951, Brian Desmond Hurst)
The remarkable thing about A Christmas Carol (the seminal Charles Dickens novella) is how it keeps getting adapted generation after generation, signaling I think that its message originally delivered in 1843 still remains all too depressingly relevant today. (For a tremendous list/ranking of all of the adaptations, check out this site.) In Dickens’ time, the crushing poverty that permeated his environment was little ameliorated by welfare programs, social safety nets, child labor laws or human rights policies, making the lives of the poor and destitute not only one of extreme and constant suffering but also one of physical and psychological impairment and loss. In light of this reality, greed and avaricious business practices were at the time especially all the more horrifically immoral. Of course, that isn’t the only focus of the story, the more profound point being a positive message, that greed and self-absorbed mercenary practices only lead to a meaningless and purposeless and lonely (dead) life, devoid of any form of real enrichment. In a deeply allegorical figuration, Ebenezer Scrooge represents more than just some solitary individual, he represents all self-centered, greedy wealth, whether that be individual wealth or, today, transnational corporate wealth, which is why the story remains so relevant today, because its message in 1843 still applies today especially in terms of the extreme disparity and inequities that have accompanied transnational corporate power’s drive for more and more profit and unsustainable growth and expansion, the consequence of which is a deeper divide between the excessively wealthy and the poor, who, in some places in the world have fallen back into the same crushing life ending suffering that people suffered from in 1843! Though I have a soft spot for the abrasive but still somehow heartwarming Scrooged (1988, Richard Donner), of the many screen adaptations of Dickens’ novella, my favorite version remains the classic 1951 Brian Desmond Hurst adaptation. For me, the spirit of Dickens’ intent comes through most forcefully in this adaption, Hurst applying German Expressionistic chiaroscuro lighting to great effect (some of the scenes taking on the affective quality of a horror film!) while hyper-emphasizing the class consciousness of the story (and keeping Dickens’ sublime lyrical writing), most potently felt for me in the image of the Ghost of Christmas Present revealing two children, allegorically figurating “Ignorance” and “Want,” signifying in the most impactful way Scrooge’s (and as we take on his persona, our own) lack of humanity, e.g., in short, in humanity’s woeful “ignorance,” we are not taking care of our own and it is the most vulnerable (e.g., children) who then suffer the most. In Scrooge (Alastair Sim) re-discovering his humanity (another profoundly utopian moment!), we get the life affirming message of purpose and meaning put back in place, Scrooge re-connecting to family and friends and investing himself in general in the world around him, doing his part to make the world a better place for all.
(1) It’s a Wonderful Life (1946, Frank Capra)
For me, It’s a Wonderful Life is more than just a precious Christmas film, it is also one of the most profound political films of all time, which, in turn, I might add, is why I think the film has stood the test of time and still hits a nerve for so many people (e.g., informs, in turn, why it’s a Christmas classic). For this reason, I thought I would give the film its own post, so as to really flesh out why I think this film is just so special.