Cinecism: The Only Christmas Movies That Matter

Words: Maia Wyman

Christmas movies occupy a strange space in the world of moviemaking. Sure, bottom of the barrel Hallmark slop gets churned out every year and, often, fades quickly into obscurity. But with a modicum of effort, a film could become a classic simply by virtue of habit. If you celebrate Christmas, these are likely the movies you will watch most in your life. They’re ritualistic, a second skin. For example, I can recite for you the entire scripts of numbers two and three on this list because my family watches them every Christmas Eve and Day respectively.

The Christmas movie is one of those rare instances where adults will revisit children’s movies, sans children. One of the vestiges of a time where multiple generations would gather around the TV to share a piece of media. In the West, the Christmas movie is an unappreciated tool of power. It’s perennial, and thus, while we only watch it at a certain time of year, the messages it bestows can stay with you forever.

So here is a roundup of my favourite Christmas films, which vary laughably in genre and even in relevance to Christmas, but which I try to watch every year to sink into that sometimes cozy, sometimes wistful, oft introspective Christmassy mood.

It’s a Wonderful Life (1946)

I came to It’s a Wonderful Life later in life than most. Is it a predictable choice? Yes. But I believe there is a ‘before’ watching this movie’ and an ‘after’ watching it, in that it has the capacity to fundamentally change its viewers. Frank Capra’s dazzlingly tender portrait of a complicated, but selfless man and the people who love him is a transformative, even spiritual experience. More so than its loose predecessor, A Christmas Carol, It’s a Wonderful Life will compel a ‘come to Jesus’ moment from just about anyone. With one of the most charismatic protagonists put to screen, and an emotional climax accompanied by a heartwrenching rendition of Auld Lang Syne, I question anyone who has a dry face during the credits.

A Christmas Story (1983)

There are those who will say A Christmas Story is mired in nostalgia for old Americana and some false golden age of an America that never was. Don’t listen to them. Or listen with the caveat that yes, this movie puts a bucolic glaze on an era that we all know was anything but.

As someone who watches A Christmas Story with my parents every year on Christmas day, with an elder-boomer dad who had a rather similar upbringing to Ralphie’s, I must opt for the reparative reading. The best Christmas movies are timeless in their idiosyncrasies and this entire film is filled with vignettes that are recognisable even when stripped down to their most basic elements (a bunny costume, a BB gun, a Christmas duck with the head attached, a leg lamp with an ass attached). Melina Dillon and Darren McGavin’s performances are outstanding, but come a close second to the kid who plays Randy with the outrageousness that only a child who has no awareness he is in a movie can convey. Pair that with a rather plucky production story, and you’ve got your classic.

Christmas Vacation (1989)

For me, Christmas is somewhat synonymous with the 1980s. A Christmas Vacation, perhaps better than any other National Lampoon movie, is doing what it came to do. That is, lampoon the nuclear Christmas as told by Reagan. It’s a play on It’s a Wonderful Life from the dark shadow of the post-Socialist 80s. There’s something so delightfully cynical about the whole thing, but it still manages to touch its emotional beats (coming through especially in the scene between Clark and his father in the pantry after Clark’s big meltdown).

We watch this every year on Christmas eve, and because it’s replete with adult content it always felt like a special treat. I would squeal with glee whenever Chevy Chase yelled “Danny FUCKING Kay” and get banished to the other room during the pool scene. It’s another iconic and easily quotable film - my mother has seen A Christmas Vacation every year for thirty years and still chortles at the same moment each and every time. Now that’s powerful.

Scrooged (1988)

Scrooged is the urban sibling to Christmas Vacation - its target not the nuclear family but 80s greed, decadence, and moral decay. Bill Murray is a bag of quirks in this movie, mumbling through his dialogue and filtering every line through a wink of irony. For most of the film, it’s clear that both he and his character know that nothing matters, which makes his come to Jesus moment, when the veneer breaks in both character and actor, all the more satisfying. Along with its gorgeous, period-specific costumes, Scrooged has a really interesting, almost matter-of-fact portrayal of race and class politics of 80s New York. With macabre practical effects, some amazing character acting, and a gorgeous credits song by Annie Lennox, this one is a joy to watch. Extra points for the cutest Tiny Tim of all time.

Carol (2015)

Christmas is but a backdrop in Carol, but I love shoehorning it into my yearly canon. Todd Haynes is working with his usual restraint and apt historical detail, but of all his films this one has some of the most sumptuous visuals. It looks like a hand drawn vintage postcard, such that you want to melt into its world. I’m not sure what it is about love and Christmas that creates a perfect alchemy. Perhaps it’s because Christmas is a time for reflection - yearning for childhood, for loved ones who have passed, for the one that got away. Carol nails that feeling.

How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000)

This movie came out of that era when everyone seemed to be making crass live action remakes of beloved children’s material (lest we forget the calamitous Mike Myers The Cat in the Hat (2003)). How the Grinch Stole Christmas is similarly divisive, but I’ll defend it on the basis that every component of this film is batting as hard as possible. Yes, it’s crass (it took me forever to catch onto that key party joke in the opening scene), but Ron Howard clearly cares about this material.

The art direction of this film is impeccable. Howard’s admirable commitment to practical effects, now a lost art, makes Whoville feel at simultaneously quaint and outlandish as Seuss probably imagined it. Baby Taylor Momsen is precious, and Jim Carrey is from another world. He packs a joke into every half-sentence, every movement of every iota of his body, and thus drags this film out of the well of irony it sinks itself into. He is magic.

The Polar Express (2004)

Careening into the uncanny valley, we arrive at The Polar Express, and I am personally down for the ride. Admittedly, it’s clear from the repetitious “will they fall off the train” sequences that Zemeckis couldn’t quite figure out how to make a feature film out of a 32-page picture book. Some people hate the bizarro, hyper-realist computer graphics here but I think it strangely works for the film’s sombre, even eerie tone. Near-plotless as it is, The Polar Express is ultimately a mood piece. Its not-quite-there-ness effectively captures that sleepy melancholy that overtakes the best of us on Christmas Day. That feeling that is almost impossible to explain, but Zemeckis chooses to embody.

The Family Stone (2005)

Every corporate baddie’s worst nightmare: a family of the most insufferable libs you’ve ever met. The Family Stone was lambasted by some critics when it came out for its merry band of miserable progressives, who gleefully terrorise the uptight woman who dares to enter their fold. I agree that the film’s characterisation of this borderline intolerable family can at times feel like Get Out for white conservative women but, again, a reparative reading is necessary.

What works for The Family Stone is the way it embraces the distinctive personalities of every actor in this large ensemble cast. Whether that’s Rachel McAdams serving “Regina George wears an ugly Christmas sweater” realness, or Luke Wilson being the blitzed out hippie he is, or Sarah Jessica Parker employing all her physical and vocal quirks to their fullest degree, or the utter magnetism of the late Diane Keaton, something endears you to these characters even when they’re acting beyond the pale of human decency. I have watched Cronenberg, I have watched all three seasons of I Think You Should Leave, but nothing has ever made me more uncomfortable than that infamous dinner scene in The Family Stone. That alone deserved an Oscar.

Eyes Wide Shut (1999)

West Village Christmas lights? Glamorous balls? Pre-Oprah Tom Cruise? Infidelity? An orgy-filled Christmas cabal? It’s the perfect Christmas film. What’s more to say other than go watch my video.

Arthur Christmas (2011)

I watched this with my nieces, and that is the story I am sticking to. Despite being far older than its target demographic when I first watched it, I found Arthur Christmas to be an unexpectedly poignant children’s film about learning to deal with the families we’re given. I, an adult, am not typically a fan of “Santa” movies, but this one is doing something quite interesting. It conceptualises Santa Claus as a job rather than a single all-knowing being, somewhat in the vein of The Santa Claus. However here the job is passed down patrilineally within a specific family, which leads to fascinating ruminations about patriarchal duty, occupational fatigue, and apathy. Lovely!

BONUS: WORST CHRISTMAS FILM

Christmas with the Kranks (2004)

This is a movie where an aging couple gets bullied and harassed by everyone in their neighbourhood for opting out of the hell machine that is Christmas capitalism. It’s the anti-Christmas movie in every sense of the word. Another point off for Tim Allen.