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Hi My Cinema Readers, 


This is my final message to you on this version of the site. 


Over the last few months we at My Cinema have been working on the development of the central My Entertainment World site where we'll be joining with our current sister sites My Theatre, My TV, My Sports Stadium, My Bookshelf and My Music. The new central hub will feature highlighted articles from across My Entertainment World and a showcase for our biggest exclusive interviews as well as the most recent posts from all 6 existing branches (and our brand new venture My Games). 


But never fear, My Cinema will live on with it's own page as a branch under the My Entertainment World umbrella. At www.myentertainmentworld.ca/mycinema you'll be able to find all the same content from this site brought to you by myself and your dedicated head writer Rachael. 


Our annual My TV Awards and Nominee Interview Series are coming up soon so be sure to come with us over to the new site, you won't want to miss it. 


Thank you all for your dedicated readership of My Cinema in the past few years, we love hearing from each and every one of you. I can't wait to show you our new and improved selves. 


We launch www.myentertainmentworld.ca this week- get excited and I'll see you there!


All My Love, 
Kelly Bedard
Managing Editor, My Cinema

24 Days of Christmas – Family Tradition Edition

I have only repeated two movies since last year, even though it’s been very tempting to pull out some old favorites (I miss you, Elf! See you next year!). Those two repeats were my essential movies. Every year, the Christmas season begins with Love, Actually, and ends when my whole family gets together to watch The Muppets Christmas Carol. And if one year I missed Love, Actually, I’d probably feel sad, but I’d get over it. If I missed the Muppets, it wouldn’t feel like Christmas. Considering Muppets came out in 1992 (when we saw it in theaters) and probably came out on VHS by the next Christmas, I can estimate that I’ve seen this movie at least 19 times. My brother and I sing along to every song (and find it near impossible not to quote along with every line). Each person has their personal favorite parts (and least favorite, many times overlapping). It is as much a part of my Christmas season as trees, presents and inappropriately drunk relatives (just kidding, relatives). So I realize I’m not exactly impartial when I say that The Muppets Christmas Carol is not only the best version of the Christmas Carol, but probably the best Christmas movie period. Your favorite Christmas movie, like your favorite member of ‘NSync, says a lot more about you as a person than it does about the relative quality of your options*. I realize this, and therefore trying to convince you that The Muppet Christmas Carol is better, objectively, than whatever movie your family gobbed onto is probably a fool’s errand, but here goes nothing:

The Muppets Christmas Carol takes the themes of A Christmas Carol (love, kindness, redemption, tragedy, poverty) and translates them beautifully into its chosen motifs (Muppets, mainly). In performing this miraculous translation of dry British drama to the colorful, musical world of The Muppets, it manages to maintain the integrity and power of the original work while also providing new levels of Christmassy joy. A lot of adaptations, especially those aimed at children, soften the themes or lose the metaphor, but the Muppets heighten that drama with a fiery performance by Michael Caine and a healthy helping of astute observational humor.

Which brings us to my second point – it’s really funny. Not that I’d expect anything less from a Muppet movie that doesn’t have the word “Space” in the title, but The Muppets Christmas Carol has all the wit, joy, and over the top puniness that have made the Muppets classics for years.

Even the casting of the Muppets within the piece serves dual functions to the metaphor of the story and the humor of it (take, for example, Fozzy the Bear as Fozziwig. In the original text, Fozziwig is a kindhearted, semi-incompetent businessman whose early kindness towards Scrooge helps to melt his heart. The Muppets version casts Fozzy the Bear, a kindhearted, semi-incompetent jokester whose overwhelming kindness and goofiness is so persistent it can’t help but melt your heart. This makes his casting both funny and effective, since it automatically creates a wealth of characterization around Fozziwig without the movie needing to spell it out).

And to my third – The Muppets Christmas Carol is a really awesome musical, with numbers that range from beautifully evocative (“One More Sleep ‘Til Christmas” marvelously conjures the joy of the night before Christmas morning) to deeply piercing (the very funny and very trenchant “There Goes Mr. Humbug” sums up Scrooge more effectively than any amount of Gonzo-narration could) to the really joyful (the movie ending “Thankful Heart”). In true Muppet fashion, these songs are witty, well-composed, and perfectly suited to the movie.

And of course the fourth reason why The Muppets Christmas Carol is the best Christmas movie ever—because it’s mine. Our traditions, as I’ve observed time and again during this experiment, are often nonsensical and arbitrary, but they’re ours. We give them power because we believe that they mean something. And when our traditions fill us with joy and a sense that we should try and be a little better towards the rest of the world? Well then they’re worthwhile ones. That, more than anything, has been the meaning of the plethora of Christmas movies I’ve indulged in this year. Some of them were crappy (I’m looking at you, Christmas Cupid), and some were Jewish, and some were animated, but all of them were obsessed with the idea that this time of year, regardless of religion, wealth or life status, can be magical. Not necessarily because it was the time that Jesus was born (in fact, as previously noted, only a few of the movies even so much as mentioned the J-man), or because it was the time of the Maccabees, or because we give each other presents, but because we imbue the end of the year with a meaning that makes it transcend a date on the calendar. Like family, whether the one you're born with or the one you create or the friends you surround yourself with, Christmas time means a lot to us because we say it does.

The Muppets Christmas Carol is the perfect season topper not just because it is the best (although it is), but because my family and I have decided it’s the best, so every joke, every song, every moment is imbued with that much more magic and joy. And in the age after Santa stopped delivering our presents, and cookies started reminding us of diabetes more than Christmas cheer, it’s the magic we create with the people we love that matters**.

RANDOM OBSERVATIONS: 
• 99% Watch: If this isn’t the same as when Ron Paul was asked that question about letting the 30-year-old with no health insurance die – “If they’d rather die [than go to the prisons or poor houses] they’d better do it, and decrease the surplus population!”

 • Additional 99% Watch: Good Scrooge sings, “and a promise to share the wealth.” Time to pepper spray him.

• Gonzo is still my favorite Muppet (by far), but I never get tired of Rizzo’s hilarious non sequiturs.

• Is it sad that the ghost of Christmas Future STILL terrifies me? Yes, probably.

*False. The best member of NSync is and was Justin Timberlake. But I like metaphor, so go with it.


**Aww, shut up Rachael, say something pithy and ironic: presents don’t suck either.

24 Days of Christmas – The Missing Stocking Edition

What if angels were real, and one of them wanted to bang your wife? Also… what if he looked like Cary Grant? For my second to last Christmas movie, I wanted something I knew nothing about. I wanted to be surprised. I wanted… well… Cary Grant.

In The Bishop’s Wife, Grant plays Dudley, an angel who comes down around Christmas to answer the prayers of the titular Bishop, Henry. The Bishop is trying to get a new Cathedral built, and his desire to secure finances for the project has created distance between himself, his wife, his child, his constituents, and, not to overplay my hand here, God. Enter Dudley, who quickly wins over the Bishop's wife, child, and everyone else in his life.

The movie plays off of Cary Grant’s movie star ridiculousness. Grant, on his most casual day, looks debonair and sophisticated, the exact type of man who bursts in out of nowhere to sweep a girl off her feet, no matter whose feet hers are normally next to. And Grant’s charm (despite its Haye’s Code-inspired on-screen celibacy) has never been of the wholesome variety, so when Dudley starts showing intense interest in the Bishop’s undersexed wife, the film knows what you’re thinking. Despite his tendency to speak in bible verse and proclaim good will towards men, when Cary Grant locks eyes on your lady, you believe he’s going to, uh, “represent YOU with your wife.” So Grant struts around for most of the film, doing odd things to help the people around him while making googoo eyes at the bishop’s wife (Loretta Young). Like serious googoo eyes. And then, for no apparent reason there's a fifteen minute ice skating portion in the middle. It also features an extended gag where the Bishop’s pants are stuck to a chair. Then, Grant’s meddling gets Henry to realize he’s been taking everyone in his life for granted, and Dudley disappears. Wife and husband are back together and better than ever.

I’m not sure if it ever rehabs Grant’s playboy image, but our perception of Grant helps to play into the intriguing ambiguity at the core of his Dudley’s character. And in the end, that’s part of what rehabs Henry. The Bishop’s Wife, unlike a lot of the Christmas movies I’ve watched, dealt directly with the ideas of hypocrisy and Christmas. Henry wants a glorious cathedral, ostensibly for the sake of his religion, God, and Jesus Christ, but it’s obvious from beginning to end that his desire for the cathedral has more to do with pride and arrogance. Their church and their Christmas may have all the outward manifestations of beauty and righteousness, but it’s formed on a bed of crumbling faith and narcissism. It’s a critique many people make of Christmas in general, that all this frivolity, gift-giving, and shopping is nothing more than an opulent demonstration of our consumerist culture at its most shallow. As such, Henry’s descent into jealousy and materialism seem like a critique on the decadence of Christmas. But Dudley reveals the beating heart of Henry and of humanity is not about money or prestige, but about the people we love. Even the grumpy old woman who wants to turn Henry’s cathedral into a memorial for her dead husband is revealed to be an old, sad, slave to love just trying to recapture her ability to “act like a human being.” Henry goes from stick up his butt to loving husband and devoted pastor. And even Dudley gets his chance to experience the exquisite terror of loving another human (plus the righteous atheist goes to church, which I guess is the 40s equivalent of one’s heart growing two sizes).

Henry’s final sermon implores his church to remember the gift not under their Christmas tree, the gift of Jesus. And despite the Christian-specificity of such a message, it applies more broadly. It’s not as happy as White Christmas, nor as beautifully classic as It’s a Wonderful Life, but The Bishop’s Wife is one of the few movies I’ve watched to deal directly and sincerely with how to make meaning out of the trappings of Christmas, while accepting the too easy slide into materialism. The Bishop’s Wife is the exact opposite of the modern cynical Christmas films, and a parallel alternative to the wholesome “Ain’t Christmas Grand?” musicals like White Christmas. Instead, it’s a movie that takes head on issue with the darker side of Christmas and, with the unironic beauty that only a pre-1950s film can really bring, tears that darkness down.

RANDOM OBSERVATIONS:
• Apparently Angels and Murderers have the same faces.

• One of the kids playing in the snow in The Bishop’s Wife is the same as the young George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life. Christmas Serendipity!

• The angel has had “quite a bit of work to do in Paris.” Ha, take that Frenchies! “I’ve never before had to fight an angel, but I suggest you take off your coat and put up your dukes!”

24 Days of Christmas- Major Award Edition

As I sit down to take in the perennially marathoned A Christmas Story, I realize that I don’t believe I’ve ever actually sat down and watched A Christmas Story before. Normally, it is on the TV in the other room all day Christmas day, and when sullen child/teenager Rachael got bored of hanging out with the relatives, she snuck into the other room to catch hours upon hours of “you’ll shoot your eyes out” festivities. I HAVE seen every moment of this movie (I think), but I’d never seen it in the correct order. Apparently, there was a plot in between the goofy snow suits and the tongue on the flagpole. Although not much of one.

The movie basically revolves around young Ralphie’s overwhelming desire for a BB gun and the series of obstacles put in between him and his goal. The movie is a solid piece of 40s and 50s nostalgia, from the warm and fuzzy voice over to the goofy clothes and “simpler times” plot. And like a lot of these nostalgia films, it speaks to an inherent duality in the way we think about childhood: even while we’re nostalgic for it, we’re also aware how fraught with drama and disappointment it was (see also: Stand By Me, Sandlot). The movie is much more absurd than I remembered. It has more dream sequences than your average Scrubs episode. My personal favorite could be the Santa scene, in which sitting on Santa’s lap is transformed into a terrifying ordeal of tragic proportions.

The exaggerated nature of A Christmas Story, mixed with its dedication to an awkward sort of nostalgia, allows it to seem at once universal and absurd. It’s impossible not to see little pieces of your own strange holiday traditions in A Christmas Story. Ultimately, for all its tomfoolery, it's about the simple joys of making ridiculous holiday memories with your family, whether they be based on lying to them or having fun despite everything going wrong.

RANDOM OBSERVATIONS:

• Did any one out there hear “There’s starving people in China?” when they were a kid? It’s not inaccurate, but I feel like I always heard “India” or “Africa.”

• I feel like this movie did more to combat idiot children getting stuck to poles than a thousand public service announcements. Or caused idiot children to get their tongues stuck to poles. Not sure which.

• Although set in the 40s, the movie was clearly shot in the 80s as evidenced by The Mother’s hair.

 • “The old man loved bargaining as much as an Arab trader?” Were you allowed to say shit like that in the 40s? Or the 80s for that matter?

• Totally legit child care in the 40s = putting soap in your child’s mouth to make him stop swearing. Totally indefensible child abuse in the 2010s = putting soap in your child’s mouth to make him stop swearing. Also not child abuse in the 40s? Beating the crap out of your kid.

 • 99 % Watch: Ralphie thinking he’s decoding a secret mission from Little Orphan Annie only to find out it’s a commercial for Ovaltine is a perfect metaphor for the disillusionment many of us feel with politics these days.

 • I’d complain about the random racism of the Chinese Food Restaurant scene, but a) it was the 80s and racism hadn’t been invented yet and b) it was funnier than a season’s worth of 2 Broke Girls.

Scene of the Day

I'm watching The Holiday and wondering at that film's most unbelievable achievement: making me fall madly in love with Jack Black. It's this scene that does it, one of the loveliest ever.
 

24 Days of Christmas – “Happy Hannukah, My Parents Are Dead, Now Leave Me Alone” Edition

These days, it is simply accepted that Adam Sandler movies are going to be difficult to watch and yet increasingly generic. He’s made a very comfortable living by continually playing to the lowest common denominator, whether it’s through paint-by-numbers romantic or over-the-top absurdist comedies. But there was a time, in the not-too-distant past, when it didn’t have to be that way. Adam Sandler’s early films were goofy, endearing, hilarious messes, awesome little pieces of a unique comedic voice. Around the time that 8 Crazy Nights came out, he was still in the “could go either way” sweet spot.

One of the most endearing parts about Adam Sandler has always been (at least for me) his SNL-featured Hanukkah Songs. It may seem clichéd at this point to say that it’s rough growing up envying the pop culture prominence of Christmas, but it’s nice to have something to sing while lighting the menorah besides dreidle dreidle dreidle. Even worse is the dearth of Hanukkah movies. And so it’s obvious that when Sandler decided to make a bizarrely crass, animated Hanukkah movie he made it with a sincere intention of helping to right the injustice done to Jewish kids forced to sneak Rudolph under their disapproving parents’ noses.

And to a large extent, he does a good job of co-opting the Christmas movie traditions that are so prevalent. From the cheesy, after-school special animation to the “bad guy turns good” plotline to the over-the-top narration, 8 Crazy Nights does a good job of creating a holiday narrative that uses the themes and traditions of Hanukkah as effectively as movies like A Christmas Story play on Christmas.

Unfortunately, this is also a really gross and weird Adam Sandler movie. The same off-putting mixture of sentimentalism and gross-out humor that has characterized some of Sandler’s worst offerings plays awkwardly within this otherwise conventional holiday tale. It’s hard to enjoy the Hanukkah goodness, or even the actually moving tale when you’re also forced to endure disgusting body hair, jock-strap eating, and absurdly offensive stereotypes.

Anyway, the plot: Davey Jones (Adam Sandler) is an all around awful guy. He drinks and drives, does horrible things to the people around him, and hates other people almost as much as he hates himself. He is saved from jail time by Whitey, a four foot tall volunteer basketball ref who is as over-the-top nice as he is often disgusting. Whitey tries to rehab Davey’s broken spirit, while Davey tries to seduce a single mom who used to be his childhood sweetheart. Actually, rehabbing Davey turns out to be surprisingly easy, and basically consist of having him help Whitey and his bald, crazy sister clean cobwebs and play practical jokes on each other.

For Jewish parents looking for a happy-go-lucky movie to show their kids how cool Hanukkah can be, this movie is probably as ill-fated as the Hanukkah armadillo. Unless their idea of Rankin/Bass special is filled with poop, sex jokes, and alcoholism. But if you occupy the sweet spot of being Jewish or at least sorta Jewish, and between the ages of 9 and 16 (as I was the first time I saw 8 Crazy Nights), it’ll help tide you over until you realize that most Christmas movies are actually written by Jews, and that at the very least we’ll always have Seth Cohen.

RANDOM OBSERVATIONS:

• 99% Watch: Whitey is an impoverished nice guy, I guess, but this is about as close to the 99% watch as I’m getting with this movie. There’s no bad guy rich guys, no greed-destroying lives. I’d make a joke similar to that “Christmas presents at Hanukkah prices one,” but that’s anti-Semitic and far too easy.

• Adam Sandler once played the son of the Devil, but early-movie Davey is definitely the closest he’s been to pure evil

• People who should be offended by this movie: Short people, Asians, Reindeer, Fat people, bald people, parents, Jews, the footlocker.

24 Days of Christmas: Christmukkah Edition

NOTE: It’s hard being Jewish at Christmas time, but nothing is quite as difficult as dealing with the complete dearth of Hannukah movies. In trying to put the “mukkah” into the 24 days of Christmas, I decided I needed at least two Hannukah offerings. Unfortunately, 8 Crazy Nights is the only one that even exists, as far as I can tell. So I had to substitute my favorite Christmukkah classic, instead.

Until 2003, there was never really a family on TV that seemed like mine. But in 2003, onto the scene came a young, comic-book-obsessed, fast talking half-jew and his loving, tradition-obsessed family. And although they were far more dramatic than mine could ever be, The Cohens (and specifically son Seth) seemed more like reality than I had ever seen before. This was true before the seminal episode “The Best Chrismukkah Ever,” but it was surreally true after. Despite my adoration of Christmas, I always felt sad that the full extent of the family traditions I experienced every year were not reflected in the Yule tide joy I saw on screen. But Seth’s singleminded obsessiveness in the face of Chrismukkah (his combined Hannukah and Christmas celebration) was exactly what I experienced every December.

For a while in the mid 2000s, The OC was a large part of the pop culture zeitgeist. “The Best Chrismukkah Ever” is a perfect demonstration of why. It has it all. Dorky references and indie bands (which would, after this show, become the norm for cool TV shows)? Check. Romantic drama? Check. Seth fast talking? Check. Peter Gallagher’s eyebrows? Check. But what really made The OC more than just a latter day 90210 ripoff with a better soundtrack was Seth Cohen. In the dark days before Chuck and The Big Bang Theory, geeks on TV were mostly relegated to quirky side kick and punching bag. Even when Dawson Leery was supposed to be all-sensitive indie boy, he was never really a dork. But Seth? Despite looking like Adam Brody, he was an outcast, comic-obsessed nerd boy without a friend to call his own before the arrival of Ryan Atwood. While a lot of his most endearing qualities would become characicatures by the end, “The Best Chrismukkah Ever” has them all at their endearing best. He’s awkward, believably so, and his reaction to Summer’s “gift” is the most believable thing about it. And he’s so intensely into Chrismukkah that you want to share his joy AND his holiday (so much so that a lot of my non-half jew friends wanted to join in on the goodness I had been getting since year one).

“The Best Chrismukkah Ever” was also a huge turning point for the show, acknowledging Marissa’s problems, hurdling the Seth-Summer-Anna triangle towards its early resolution, and bringing the Sandy-Kirsten-Caleb drama to a rolling boil. And though the episode ends with Seth getting turned down by both Summer and Anna, and Ryan frustrated with Marissa, it also ends with Ryan finally giving himself over to the Cohen way of life and putting his stocking up over the fireplace. At the end of the day, despite all the booze and the romance, that decision to include Ryan in this idealized family was the beating heart that makes The OC work. And it is the reason why this little half Jew Christmas obsessive has made “The Best Chrismukkah Ever” an essential part of her holiday routine.

RANDOM OBSERVATIONS:

• I may love this episode, but I still can barely stand Marissa Cooper. 

•  99 % Watch: Sandy tricks rich real estate magnate Caleb into giving him a land trust for $1.00 after Caleb tries to take advantage of him.  

• “If there’s drinking, crying and cops, well then it must be Christmas.” 

• “Hang on a second, Ryan, it seems to me that what we have here is a Chrismukkah miracle. Thank you! Think about this for a second, the old Ryan Atwood what woulda happened? He woulda got busted, for sure, but this time ya had Jesus workin' for ya, right, and then you also had Moses, workin' together, the super team, fightin' for you to keep you safe and give you a second chance!” 

• Oh my goodness, this is the episode that started the Oliver arc. Chrismukkah. Miracle.

24 Days of Christmas- Yippeekayyay Edition

One of my non-obnoxious Film Studies TAs was struggling to explain to us the basics of plot. We were first year film students, dying to do avante-garde and unique things, and the idea of using standard structural elements to construct our opuses felt confining and uncomfortably like selling out. Then, she walks in one day and puts on Die Hard. For the next two hours, she presented Die Hard to us as a master class in plot development. Needless to say, I now think Die Hard is pretty much amazing. It’s a masterwork in quiet characterizations and blunt, effective story telling, and Bruce Willis has never been better than he is playing the damaged McClane. And there’s really nothing more Christmasy than fighting terrorists*

Die Hard follows the story of John McClane, a New York City cop visiting California to see his estranged wife, Holly, and kids. He decides to surprise her at her office, and while cleaning up in the bathroom, inadvertently manages to hide from the Scandinavian terrorists taking over the building. These terrorists are led by Hans Gruber (Alan Rickman) who is at turns menacing, genteel, and maniacal. The terrorists are not really terrorists; they’re thieves, and they would like to steal from Holly’s firm’s corporation.

In a way, Die Hard is a grown up Home Alone. Alan Rickman is Joe Pesci, Bruce Willis is Macauley Culkin, and Holly and all of her coworkers are the McCallister’s house. It’s all in the name of Christmas, and bringing his family back together. Along the way, Kevin/John McClane has to lay a series of traps, outsmart the bad guys, and crawl around using the absurdly serendipitous tools at his disposal. I’m not sure who Carl Winslow’s Sergeant Al Powell is; maybe the creepy, semi-homeless guy Culkin befriends. Our hero even maintains his sense of whimsy, like Kevin using the old gangster movie to trick the robbers, or McClane putting a Christmas hat on and painting “Now I Have a Machine Gun Ho Ho Ho” in blood on a dead robber’s sweatshirt. Now, Kevin may never have killed the robbers by hitting them in the face with a gun and then throwing them down a flight of stairs, but I bet he would have if he’d had the training. Gruber tears apart McClane by saying he is “Just another American who saw too many movies as a child; another orphan of a bankrupt culture who thinks he's John Wayne.” If that’s not an apt description of Kevin McCallister, I don’t know what is.

Die Hard works so well because the characters all make pretty much logical and believable decisions. John doesn’t rush in to fight the robbers with nothing but his sense of his own badassdom. He tries to contact the authorities and gets as much back up as possible. Holly doesn’t huddle in fear OR try ridiculous amounts of heroics. Instead, she works her hardest to keep people safe and comfortable inside. The generic cops may make stupid decisions (like storming the building with SWAT team members with the mistaken belief that clearly there aren’t any hostages and the dead dude on the cop car was just a “depressed stock broker”), but Seargant Al Powell remains the human face of police officer sanity.

A really great movie is one that manages to humanize every character. In Die Hard, everyone from Seargant Al Powell (whose fully-realized back story provides an emotional anchor to the film’s final act) to Hans Gruber to John and Holly McClane are full people capable of emotions, motivations and character arcs. That’s a lot to ask from an action movie with this many shoot outs. As the conflict escalates between the Thieves, McClane and the LAPD, the sense of reality should fly out the window. Instead, Die Hard cleverly walks the realism line, at least as far as an 80s action movie can. When cheesy 80s yuppie Ellis tries to negotiate as douche-ily as possible with Hans Gruber, and earns a bullet in the head as a result, the real life consequences of all the Home Alone-style theatrics are brought carefully home. Gruber and McClane start an epic cat and mouse game, the highlight of which is when McClane stumbles upon Gruber crawling around the ventilation ducts, and Gruber pretends he’s a hostage. The tension-riddled scene where the two talk without full knowledge of the other’s story, with Gruber trying to needle out information from McClane, is probably one of the greatest moments of relative calm in a movie full of bloody action sequences.

Of course, the ending is suitably over the top, the douche FBI guys are suitably callous, and McClane’s particular brand of stalwart heroism comes out on top, bloody, bloody top since by the end of the movie he has no shoes or shirt, and is constantly falling through glass. But, like in all good Christmas movies, McClane bucks the system that tries to keep him down, reunites with his family, and ultimately has hope for another year of overtly American badassery, all set to “Let It Snow.”

Random Observations: 
• 99% Watch: The whole movie sets up a contrast between blue collar John McClane and the obnoxious, cocaine-soaked 80’s yuppies who uselessly populate Holly’s firm.

• “You’ll have to forgive Ellis. He gets very depressed this kind of year. He thought he was God’s greatest gift.”

• Die Hard is one of those pre-2000 movies where the entire plot would have to be rewritten today due to cell phones.

• Important lessons learned from Die Hard: All blond men are liars, and blond men with long hair are the worst. You should never trust somebody in a sweat suit. Don’t take off your shoes at an office party, because at some point you WILL have to walk through glass. Also, the FBI are mostly d-bags.

*I feel there may be a drinking game to be played while reading these reviews, whereby every time I describe something as “nothing more Christmasy” or “The true meaning of Christmas,” you take a shot. This game would be dangerous to your health, and I in no way endorse it.

24 Days of Christmas- Merry Christmas, Here’s Some AIDS Installment

As a regular movie, Rent doesn't exactly have classic status. With Chris Columbus’ stagey direction and lack of personal voice, Rent isn’t even a particularly good adaptation of the Broadway musical from which it’s based. The actors are all too old for their parts. The film lacks cinematic urgency. And the once-cutting-edge play about a group of New York bohemians turns into a surprisingly conventional piece of “we should all love each other” fluff. But as a Christmas movie, Rent is kind of great.

The story of a make-shift family’s heartbreak and hope is exactly the kind of crap that Christmas movies were made for. The momentary triumphs, abject horror, and desperate yearning for meaning in a world that can seem heartless and cold are the most moving tropes that I have experienced throughout this whole experiment. And this particular group of ragtag misfits, compiled of society’s castoffs, is profound in their devotion to the idea of their family.

During the non-Yule Tide part of the year, I find Rent’s politics incredibly frustrating even as I find the songs obscenely catchy. But during Christmas time, I think that tenants SHOULD be allowed to stay in their apartments rent-free and with ample provisions in terms of electricity. There’s a very traditional sense of “goodwill towards men” that Rent embodies, despite its seemingly fringe setting, that fits in perfectly with the pantheon of It’s a Wonderful Life and Miracle on 34th Street. If Angel, dressed up as lady stripper Santa, singing a song about murdering a dog and giving money to people, isn’t the Christmas-iest thing you see this year, then I don’t know how to talk to you.

Rent tells the story of 7 friends in late 1980s New York, ravaged by AIDS, poverty and drug abuse. Along the way, it touches on love, friendship and loss. The movie adaptation is occasionally given to histrionics, and it definitely loses a lot of the original play's kinetic energy, but that cast and the emotions remain strong (although this movie is the one that made me hate Idina Menzel for about two years). And belief in the idea of love as transcending the seasons that a life goes through, while cliché, is particularly moving when accompanied by so many varied depictions of what love means.

Random Observations: 
• Doing a 99% Watch on a film that's whole premise is about a group of un and under-employed young kids unable to pay their rent and being pushed out of their homes by an uncaring real estate magnet is a little absurd; but suffice it to say that from the opening number of “Rent” and the immediate appearance of Taye Diggs saying “get your ass off the Range Rover,” to the huge protest about homeless rights, this movie is more socialist than the Muppets.

• My mom’s summary of Rent: “Christmas Eves are the bookends, held together by heroin and Aids… Merry Christmas.”

• The movie’s take on love: you can find it if you’re gay (Angel and Tom), if you’re a lesbian (Maureen and Joanne), if you have AIDS (Roger and Mimi), but not if you're a heterosexual white dude with no discernable medical history.

• Why do musical characters all think that Santa Fe is the promise land?

24 Days of Christmas – Existentialism Installment

To say that A Charlie Brown Christmas is melancholy is not exactly a news flash, but it’s nonetheless affecting.

From the first chords of Vince Guaraldi, you’re 100% into the existential despair that Charlie Brown finds himself in. It’s sort of strangely appropriate that I find myself watching a movie all about finding the meaning of Christmas when I’m right in the middle of this little experiment and experiencing, I’ll admit it, a bit of Christmas movie fatigue. “I feel depressed, I know I should be happy, but I’m not,” says Charlie with aching sincerity. He’s caught in the middle of a glorious winter landscape, and surrounded by people full of Christmas Cheer, but he’s feeling empty and lonely and lost. Anyone over the age of 10 has had this moment, staring at all the Christmas lights around the house and wondering why it doesn’t hold the same joy it did when they were young. He sees the commercialism and hollow ritual that can seem to overwhelm any real gestures of “peace or goodwill towards men.” And the more disconnected he feels from the people around him (even when he’s helping them by directing the Christmas play), the emptier the whole ritual of Christmas seems.

One of the joys of Peanuts has always been the contrast between Charlie’s functional depression and Snoopy’s imaginative tomfoolery, a kind of metaphorical representative of the dichotomy between how terrifying and lonely being a kid can be with how freaking exciting it can be. Here, that dichotomy is represented beautifully by the contrast between the omnipresent “Christmas time is here” score and the hyperactive music that represents the play. And just like childhood, Christmas is a time of great contrasts. Of loving our rituals while feeling trapped by them, Of seeing relatives and friends whom we have missed while simultaneously finding them kind of annoying. Of trying to find the perfect representation of what Christmas means to us while also trying to make that representation run deeper than just the surface.

And so Charlie finds himself becoming obsessed with a pathetic little survivor of a Christmas Tree, as alone and unable to fit in as Charlie himself. But in the spirit of the season, and with the magic of a great Christmas special, the other people come together, creating a makeshift family for Charlie and the spirit of togetherness and joy that he was searching for. Not to get all film-major-y, but the use of sound in this movie really blew me away. The contrasts created by the ample use of silence, and the slightly echo-y quality to the voices, makes for a movie that feels like an avant garde film that just happens to feature characters who regularly show up in the funny pages of your local newspaper. And the great crescendo of this cacophony of sound and silence is the movie ending sing along with all the characters “Hark the Herald Angels Sing,” a song that perfectly encapsulates the spiritually wandering Christmas offering. “I know nobody likes me, why do we have to have a holiday season to emphasize it?”

2011 at the Cinema

As anyone whose seen Hugo will appreciate, film is a superbly moving medium with a rich history and millions of facets. Nothing captures just how much the films of 2011 have spoken to that fact quite like this brilliant YouTube montage celebrating 143 of the best, the worst and the most diverse films of the year. Enjoy.

24 Days of Christmas – "I’m Dreaming Of A" Edition

Aside from listening to the Bing Crosby tune “White Christmas,” I really knew nothing about the 1954 classic film by the same name. For example, I didn’t know it was a musical, didn’t know it starred Bing Crosby, had no idea it took place in a snow-less Vermont, and didn’t know it was in goofy Technicolor. I also didn’t know how adorable it was or how manically entertaining.

The plot follows Wallace (Crosby) and Harris (Danny Kaye), a two man musical super act that starts when Harris saves Wallace during World War II. Harris is just enjoying the spoils of being a superstar, but Wallace’s bachelor-derived seriousness gets in his way, so Harris concocts plans to try and get Wallace hitched. When two sisters, Betty (Rosemary Clooney) and Judy, trick them into seeing their show, Harris sees the solution to his problem in the person of Betty. Through a series of hijinks, Harris maneuvers himself and Wallace onto a train bound for Vermont with Judy and Betty. Judy and Betty head to the Inn where they are meant to perform, but Vermont is oddly snowless and the Inn is deserted. Just as they’re ready to leave, Harris and Wallace run into General Waverly, the owner of the Inn and their personal hero. When they find out the Inn is close to bankruptcy, they decide to perform a huge show there to try and raise its profile. As they get ready for the show, they flirt with the sisters, hatch plans to rejuvenate the General’s moral, and generally enjoy a pre-60s bromance of the greatest variety. But after a misunderstanding, Betty becomes convinced that Harris and Wallace are just using the General for publicity and, rightfully, chews Wallace out. Meanwhile, Judy and Harris decide to fake an engagement. Pissed off, Betty takes off for New York, and Wallace has to go to beg her to come back, while simultaneously trying to convince everyone they knew to come to Vermont and save the General’s inn and pride.

Rosemary Clooney, with her broad shoulders and deep, soulful voice, is fantastic. She’s fiery and a subtle sort of sheltered awkward. And Bing Crosby, despite his painfully painted-in blue eyes, is suitably charismatic as Wallace. But I gotta say, I fell in love with Danny Kaye’s goofy Harris, who is probably the world’s most incompetent wingman, and who struts around with the manic energy of Cosmo Kramer and the ginger effervescence of a Weasley sibling.

As for the plot, it’s the kind of semi-screwball romance that the 40s and 50s excelled at. The dance numbers are more impressive than the singing (and a lot of the ballads are a little too long and serious for me), and despite the title, the movie is surprisingly light on Christmas. But damned if it’s not a beautiful moment when the General walks into a crowded ballroom on Christmas Eve to find it filled with all the men who are grateful to him for their lives. The final dance numbers, during the General tribute show, from “I Wish I Was Back in the Army” (my personal favorite) to the opulent version of “White Christmas” are what really make the movie (or, as my Dad put it, “the made whole movie just so they could sing this song.”) And the film smartly contrasts the beginning melancholy version with the ending joyful one to bring a sense of closure and, well, Christmasy cheer.

In all, White Christmas was exactly the sort of surface-ly cheerful good time that it’s candy-colored, overly sincere box suggests. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Random Observations:
 • 99% Watch: Small Business Owner (and honored war veteran) General Waverly struggles to keep his business afloat in a tough post-War economy

• “What would be a novelty here in Vermont?” “Maybe we can dig up a Democrat?” 50s politics were funny

• Less funny? The extended number about the joys of minstrel shows (at least they weren’t in black face)

• Vera-Ellen, who plays sister Judy, is too skinny to watch, even by today’s standards

• Fun side note: Danny Kaye is Jewish.

• According to this movie, men want to be in the army because they don’t have to think about their clothes and they get free food, women want to be able to pick out men based on age, weight and size. Actually, I wanted to make a feminist complaint, but that sounds about right.

24 Days of Christmas – Nazi Referencing Edition

Now that’s more like it.

From the first frames of Santa Claus Is Coming to Town (fake newsreel footage of kids trying to get ready for the arrival of Santa Claus), I was sold. It’s filled with lush claymation landscapes, witty songs, a surprisingly complicated original plot, and themes that range from trying to be the best you can be to the power of being kind to people around you (no matter how weird, mean, or cruel they mean seem, or how comically weird their name may seem). It is also an enormous Nazi analogy, mixed with a Robin Hood story, but more on that later.

Santa Claus is Coming To Town is probably the least well known of the classics by Arthur Rankin and Jules Bass (who also did Rudolph and Frosty). But here are the bare bone facts: Fred Astaire sings, dances and narrates the piece as a postman who knows everything about Santa. Mickey Rooney voices Santa. The movie features a character named Burgermeister Meister Burger who lives in Summertown. Basically, it wants to tell the story of Kris Kringle’s transformation into the one and only Santa Claus. Santa arrives at Burgermeister Meister Burger's as an orphaned baby, but he’s sent away. Then, a crazy wind pulls him towards the lair of the Winter Warlock (who is 17 kinds of evil), so the animals save him and bring him to the Kringles (specifically, Dingle Kringle, which is the greatest name I’ve ever heard, until you hear his brothers’ names). The five brothers bring him to the Elf queen, who lets him live with them (and names him Kris).

The elves can’t get their awesome toys to the little boys and girls because of the awful mountain, but Kris promises to do just that when he grows up. So grown up Kris (who’s a ginger, natch) tries to walk to the other side of the mountain to deliver toys and on the way encounters a penguin, thus confirming that penguins are indeed the Christmas bird. Kris and the penguin (Topper) arrive in Summertown, but Burgermeister Meister Burger has outlawed toys (in an Alan Menken-esque musical monologue). But Kris comes in, all red-trimmed and exuberant, and gives toys to all the girls and boys if only they’d stop pouting. But when Burgermeister Meister Burger is ready to put the kibosh in the whole communist love-in, Kris and Topper have to take off, and Kris suddenly turns out to have all the nonconformist agility of Aladdin and ends up right in the grasp of the Winter Warlock. But Kris’s kindness, and desire to give the Winter Warlock a toy, causes Winter’s heart to melt. Winter helps Kris start making a list (to check twice) of all the children to help him deliver illicit presents.

Burgermeister Meister Burger is, understandably, unhappy and he and Kris start a nice little covert war that actually kind of reminded me of communications in the Warsaw ghetto. Actually, the whole series of scenes of herr Bergermeister with his German accent tearing apart people’s homes to try and find the illegal toys puts Santa in the odd position of playing the role of the Jews in this World War II homage. Or maybe he’s more of a toy-ferrying Harriet Tubman. Either way, he is captured by Herr Bergermeister, who lights their toys on fire and HOLY CRAP this is a Nazi analogy, I’m not just being overly flippant. This is totally intentional.

Anyway, Kris’s lady love (distressed about Kris’ arrest) starts singing an acid-trip-styled ballad about being changed by Kris and fascism (or something), which also causes her hairstyle to change from uptight bun to flowy hippie locks. At this point, it is abundantly obvious that this movie wants more than just to tell the story of Santa. It’s actually providing trenchant political analysis about greed and fascism being overcome by kindness and generosity. Also that hippies have better hair.

Badass Jessica then frees Kris and his friends using magic reindeer. Kris grows out his beard (like a dirty hippy) to hide from Burgermeister Meister Burger, and then changes his name to Santa Claus, before marrying Jessica “in front of the lord.” The Winter Warlock (who has been losing his magic throughout the movie) summons up one last ounce of magic and lights the first Christmas tree. The movie ends with the beginning of the tradition of exchanging presents with the people you love on Christmas. A now-married Santa Claus takes on the task of giving out secret presents every year to the boys and girls. Thus Santa is recast from lovable philanthropist into the role of exiled revolutionary building his own castle outside of the society that banished him.

After the Burgermeisters fall from power, cool guys in jeans come and throw out their paintings and Santa is revered as the nice guy he truly is. But Santa gets old, and can no longer go out all the time delivering gifts, so he has to switch to just Christmas (because it is the holiest night of the year).

Even more than Rudolph, Santa Claus Is Coming To Town takes abundant advantage of the expanse of claymation. Every scene is full of countless awesome little details, and the characters are full of little visual quirks. And from the Nazi analogies, to the movie-ending monologue begging us to “learn Santa’s lesson” about peace on earth and goodwill towards man, no one can accuse this movie of being paint-by-numbers. It is the rare childhood classic that actually grows in estimation when watching it as an adult. 

Random Observations: 
• Does Kris Kringle look like the brothers in 7 Brides for 7 Brothers to anyone else? I half expected him to throw some ladies over his shoulder and bring them back as his bride.

• “Watch out for the doll. She’s a hardened criminal I hear.” This movie is freaking adorable.

 • “Why look here, changing from bad to good is as easy as taking your first step.” Who knew this movie was actually super helpful for New Year’s Resolutions as well as Christmas Cheer?

• Jessica kind of looks like Joan from Mad Men. Just sayin’.

 • 99% Watch: Besides Santa’s intense Socialist values, disregard for property laws, and distrust for authority (especially law enforcement), there’s actually less overt class warfare references here, just a general disdain for tyranny, except when it comes in the form of jolly men with beards.

• The point by point Santa explanations (“and that’s how he started going down chimneys”; “So that’s how he got the red suit!”) should be annoyingly on the nose, but they’re just so cute, I couldn’t get annoyed.

24 Days of Christmas – Frosty Reception Edition

The second of our classic animation trifecta is Frosty.

Shorter and less revolutionary than its reindeer brethren, Frosty looks less like Coraline and more like a classic Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoon.

A bunch of kids get together after school on the day before Christmas to make a snowman. A magician’s magic (and very argumentative) hat falls on old Frosty’s head and he immediately comes to life. The kids and magician accept this remarkably quickly. Frosty is much more of a goofy children’s special, with very little to recommend itself outside of nostalgia and painfully catchy musical numbers.

With a dastardly, mustachioed magician, a wily bunny rabbit, and a precocious blond sidekick named Karen, dimwitted Frosty makes his way to North Pole salvation and encounters a series of trivial obstacles and adorable woodland creatures’ Christmas. Along the way, he seems to hit about 1,000 lame children’s movie clichés. Then Frosty melts, and the children cry, and the jazzy/bluesy theme comes on, and Santa has to console poor abandoned Karen. Here, the movie gets as close as it comes to metaphor, talking about how “Christmas snow” is always around us, even when it seems like Spring or Summer. 

Now, it may seem grumpy or un-Christmas-like to complain about a lack of substance in a half-hour animated special designed for children. But if I’ve learned anything throughout the other installments of this series, it’s that Christmas makes for particularly ripe creative ground, home for all sorts of stories about love and acceptance. So, as somewhat nauseous as it makes me to admit it, I’ll say it – Frosty kind of sucks. It’s not a particularly substantial story to begin with, but the animated special could be more fun to make up for its lack of real stuff. Instead, it feels surprisingly paint by numbers.

Random Observations: 
• I love that the movie felt the need to make clear to children that it is only okay to steal a hat from a mean old magician man (even if you are an adorable bunny rabbit)

• “Those silly snowmen, once they come to life, they don’t know nothin’.”

• 99% Watch: The children and Frosty’s lack of money keeps them from getting him to the North Pole, but some clever Robin Hood’ing by Frosty (jumping a refrigerator car on a train, naturally) gets him there anyway.

• Maybe Karen is so cold because she’s not wearing pants.

24 Days of Christmas: Claymated Installment

Ah, claymation. The most sacred purview of Christmas movies. The next few installments of the 24 Days of Christmas will be going through the Christmas classics of the claymated and classically animated variety: Rudolph, Frosty, and Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town. First, to Rudolph.

Narrated by Sam, the talking Snow Man, Rudolph starts with the devastating news that bad weather is threatening the celebration of Christmas. Luckily, as the narrator Snow Man tells us, Santa has Rudolph. We don’t know how, yet, but we know that plucky little reindeer is going to save the day.

The first thing I noticed was how gorgeously old school this animation is. Since it’s been a while since I’ve sat down with originals, my most recent memories of this particular school of animation were from Community and It’s Always Sunny. But on this old school track, you can see every tuff of awkwardly constructed reindeer hair. You can see the precarious puppetry behind surprisingly Trotsky-looking Santa. And you can really see how adorable Rudolph is. The story of how Rudolph became the savior of Christmas is, as you probably remember, the tale of “nonconformist,” red-nosed Rudolph becoming accepted for exactly what he is by the reindeer and the surprisingly mean and judgmental version of Santa. There’s also an awesome abominable snowman who traipses around Christmasland, scaring reindeer, elves and Santa alike. Then, there’s also the goofy Herbie, an “unhappy in his work” elf who is messing things up at the Elf factory because of his desire to be a dentist.

In this version of the North Pole, apparently Santa is a conformity minded task master who grooms reindeer to do his bidding while oppressing his elven workers (99% WATCH). After the elves put together a beautiful musical number for Santa, he dismisses them with a “well it needed work” and then jets off to go judge (overly harshly) the reindeer. In fact, increasingly as I watched Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer, I was reminded of the fact that this movie came out in 1964, and it feels intensely like a product of that time. In fact, the reindeer flirting scenes seem taken straight out of a cheesy 50s beach party movie. Comet the reindeer seems like the quintessential 60s era overbearing sports coach. And if Donnor, in the role of Rudolph’s father, had started talking about fighting the Japs in WWII, I would not have been surprised.

And there’s an intense counter culture vibe running through this. I’m not kidding, by the way. Rudolph could be one of the most subversive movies to ever feature an extended musical number with singing snow bunnies. While being a dentist and having a red nose may not seem like counter culture statements, the whole theme of “independence” and being a misfit and going against society’s rules, especially in view of the movie’s early 1960’s release, is pretty profound. It’s even kind of feminist, with douchebag Daddy Donnor trying to keep Mama Donnor in the house, to which she basically says "screw you" and heads out with Rudolph’s future gal pal, Clarice, to search for her missing toy*.

And that’s all before they get to the Island of Misfit Toys, where hundreds of toys sit alone and abandoned due to manufacturing defects. A thriving subculture develops (complete with carefully harmonized musical numbers!) among Santa’s rejects, who nonetheless spend their time yearning for the Christmas day that will never be theirs. It’s a case study in thwarted desire and the beauty of solidarity among society’s cast offs. Substitute misfit toy for any oppressed subculture, and the movie sounds even more radical. After all, this is a world in which even the abominable snowman, when shown some understanding, wants to come in and help decorate the Christmas tree. Eventually, the elves, reindeer and Santa realize they were being jerks and welcome Herbie, Rudolph, the abominable snowman, and Yukon Cornelius into their midst, just in time to take advantage of the things they once hated about them.

And so Reindeer and his glowy nose guide Santa and his sleigh straight to the Island of Misfit toys. They rescue the misfit presents, and then bring gifts to all the good little boys and girls the world over. And thus, in the minds of millions of little boys and girls the world over, was planted the idea that the weirdo you made fun of in gym class is one day going to totally beat you at your own job. And if only they’d taken that lesson to heart, instead of getting distracted by the cute fawns across the way, then the 80s would have never seen the Revenge of the Nerds franchise.

Random Observations: 
• “Why am I such a misfit? I am not just a nitwit.” I DARE you not to feel bad for the sad little Rudolph.

 • The name Clarice has been ruined by The Silence of the Lambs.

• “From now on, gang, we won’t let Rudolph join in ANY reindeer games, right?”

* Okay so maybe I overstated the feminism, since very quickly thereafter: “of course, they were very sad about the loss of their friend, but they realized the best thing to do is get the women home safely.”

24 Days of Christmas: Grinchy Edition

by Rachael Nisenkier

Another new Christmas movie for me! Although I’ve seen the animated version more times than you can shake a stick at*, and have read the book pretty consistently since childhood, I was full of enough Jim Carrey-fatigue by the time the live action version of Dr. Seuss’s How The Grinch Stole Christmas showed up that up until this experiment I had avoided the newest version.

Carrey’s Grinch is a grosser concoction than the animated version (and than the version I see in my head when I read the book). He’s also a lot more gleeful in his badness. Take the early scene where he struts through Whoville in a jedi-like robe and causes random acts of crazy pants. In this world, the Grinch isn’t so much an angry misanthrope hiding in the mountains disliking the Whos, but an active force of malevolence. Along with the expansion of the Grinch’s personality, the Whos themselves have been expanded into a semi-functional and way less innocently endearing presence than in the book. They’re a Christmas-obsessed, consumerist hot mess where the overworked Post Master General finds himself at the center of a Grinch-related controversy. Who-ladies spend billions trying to outdo each other’s garish Christmas decorations. Cindy Loo Who, the very spirit of innocence in the book, becomes a overly precocious, semi-cynical, but still painfully adorable pre-teen who spends a good portion of Christmas trying to figure out what happened to the Christmas she thinks she remembers from Childhood.

In short, this is not a short and sweet tale of finding your inner child and learning to love they neighbor, but a full satire of the whole celebration of Christmas. It is simultaneously pointing out the excess often associated with Christmas (which ultimately devalues any meaning behind it) while also poking fun at people who therefore take the Grinchy “it’s all worthless” point of view. If a long version of an already perfect story had to be made, there are way worse ways to do it.

The problem of the Grinch is the same as its greatest strength. Jim Carrey, putting in a crazy, gleeful, insane tour de force performance at the center of the story, never fails to entertain. But, and this is a big but, he also makes every other scene pale in comparison, and reveals just how little there really is to that particularly side of the satirical edge. Cindy Loo Who may look super cute, but it’s hard to really care about the candy coated, overly ironic, way-too-clever for its own good Whoville part. I also wasn’t a huge fan of the whole “spelling out the reason for The Grinch’s grinchiness.” It definitely fleshes out the character, but sometimes, it’s better just to keep someone a force of chaos. Cindy Loo Who, in this version, attempts to convince The Grinch to come be master of Who-bilation for the Christmas ceremonies in Whoville. After he wrestles with his self-loathing, he decides to come on down to the people that scorned him once upon a time. Although he comes to bask in the gathered Whos' fear and awards, he ends up in an uncomfortable family reunion that sees him stripped of his dignity in a series of painfully over-the-top Who celebrations, most of which seem to involve stuffing disgusting quantities of food into Jim Carrey’s face.

Apparently, Jim Carrey found the process of becoming The Grinch so harrowing they had to consult a Navy Seal expert in torture resistance. Watching these scenes, one can really see why. Nonetheless, everything seems to be going well, complete with a slow-mo race-winning sequence and joyful parade through town. Cindy is certainly happy. Until the mean, self-obsessed mayor decides to give him a gift that ties in directly with his childhood trauma, before stealing The Grinch’s former gal pal. The Grinch predictably explodes, monologuing about the evils of consumerism, shaving the mayor’s head, and depressing little Cindy (he also lights a tree on fire and follows it up with one of the world’s worst puns).

When this fails to ruin the Whos' Christmas, The Grinch decides to follow the original’s plot and steal all the presents. This whole part is unnecessary and kind of boring. It gives us nothing new about the character, the situation or the movie in general, besides setting up a higher level of stress on the Lou Who family. After this middling middle, the movie starts to pick up steam again, mainly because Carrey is alone acting crazy, and because the idea of this psycho rummaging through people’s homes to steal their Christmas is pretty funny. (Less funny is the scene where he makes the sleeping mayor kiss his dog’s butt, but that’s a whole other issue).

Then, the Whos wake up and are predictably nonplussed, until the whole Who family reminds them that all those presents and consumerism was keeping them from the true meaning of Christmas anyway and they decide to sing. The problem is, this is totally unearned. Cindy Lou Who and family may have been feeling this since the beginning, but the petty creatures that populate the movie's Whoville certainly haven’t. So while it’s very nice that adorable Cindy can redeem The Grinch, it seems unbelievable (yes, even in a movie that features a fully green yeti creature and an entire world inside of a snowflake, one can find stuff that is too unbelievable) that she has also redeemed the town full of mean mini-grinches.

I wanted to feel heart warmed by the end, I did. But aside from thinking that Jim Carrey should become a yoga guru for how many insane positions he can get his body into, I mostly just felt nostalgic and curious as to how I can get the animated version.

Random Observations:
• 99% watch: the Whos celebrate when they max out a credit card, and cheerfully say “I’ll be paying this off for years! Plus my interest rates are awful.” Also, the mayor buys his lady love a car “generously funded by the taxes of the people of Whoville.”

• “One man’s toxic sludge is another man’s POTPOURRI. I don’t know it’s some kind of soup".

• HOLY CRAP. That’s Jenny Humphrey. JENNY HUMPHREY IS CINDY LOU WHO. How did this realization not come sooner? Oh, Jenny, you are going through hit SUCH a downward spiral.

• While I mostly loved Carrey’s take on The Grinch, I found myself struggling to contain my nausea whenever he sexually harassed Ms. Whovier.

• Do you think Carrey intentionally based his Grinch voice on Jimmy Stewart?

• The Grinch agrees with me about Santa. “He probably lives up there to avoid the taxes.” 

• Anthony Hopkins' comfortingly British-lite voice narrating all the Seuss parts just made me miss the animated version more.

• Additional 99% watch: “Arent you gonna cuff me? Put me in the chokehold? Blind me with Pepper Spray?”

*If that’s your idea of a good time.

24 Days of Christmas – Missed 80s Classic Edition

by Rachael Nisenkier

Before this project, I had never seen National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, a fact that inevitably elicited gasps from whomever I told it. It’s a classic, sure, but like most of the pre-Community Chevy Chase oeuvre, I somehow missed it. So it was with great joy that I undertook the task of partaking for the first time in a movie many people consider a must-have of the holiday season.

I found it hilarious. Chevy Chase’s physical comedy skills were unmatched even before he turned into Pierce Hawthorne. And I love the bat shit 80s style of comedy where the surreal and the inappropriate mingled casually alongside the simplest of stories.

But, and don’t get too big a head about this one Mom and Dad, I found it a little hard to relate to the escalating scale of awkward family interactions that the Griswolds go through. Since only half the family ever celebrated Christmas, anyway, and since the other half all had their own homes to stay in, we never suffered through the indignity of having to cram into bedrooms to accommodate visiting relatives. And my relatives, although occasionally hilarious, were never quite as distasteful to me as they seem to be to teenage Juliette Lewis. Even when you can’t quite understand the logistics, there’s still something great about a family working together to deal with their own strange little traditions.

In this age, when only 3 of my 13 (so far) Christmas movies have even mentioned God and none of them have been overtly Christian, the celebration of Christmas is far more about the accumulation of family and traditions. A lot of these traditions are weird or nonsensical, like spending hundreds of dollars to light up your house with ostentatious displays of lights. Or going shopping together. Or dealing with family members who you don’t particularly like. Our Christmas traditions are often goofy, ridiculous, and not nearly as adorable as we remember them, but they’re ours. Like Chevy’s Clark Griswold, we’re all trying to create the best version of our Christmas, and even on the best years, we fail. Cats get electrocuted, turkeys get over cooked, trees get burned to a crisp. Our family members turn out to be kind of d-bags. But in the end, it’s still meaningful to hang out around the fire and listen to ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas… even if it is interrupted by a small kidnapping.

That’s maybe little high-fallutin for a movie that features an extended sequence of Chevy Chase hitting himself in the face with ceiling boards. Mostly, Christmas Vacation is a series of escalating gags and crazy characters interacting in forced Holiday merriment. And isn’t that what Christmas is all about?

Random Observations: 
• Johnny Galecki made for a surprisingly adorable pre-teen (although I did have to resist the urge to keep saying to the TV “sorry, dude, you’ll never get any taller.”)

• Was there ever actually a time when straight, slicked back hair that makes you look like a Russian bond villain was considered a good look? Dude, the Greasers called, they think your hair looks stupid.

• “I don’t know what to say except it’s Christmas, and we’re all in misery.”

• 99 % watch: “But when people count on them as part of their salary—what you did just plain sucks... I’ll be more than happy to take the blame on this, on behalf of myself, and every other family you rear ended this Christmas”; “…I guess a healthy bottom line doesn’t mean much if to do it you have to hurt the people you depend on.”

• When I grow up, I want to be Aunt Bethany.

24 Days of Christmas: Christmassmorgasborg Edition

by Rachael Nisenkier

Stephen Spielberg! Christmas! Furry creatures that turn into murdering beasts! It’s a Rachael Christmassmorgasborg! Oh lord in Heaven, had I forgotten how much I love Gremlins.

This 24 Days of movies project has been immensely rewarding, but nothing quite prepared me for the rewards of rewatching Gremlins as an adult. From the cheesy pseudo-noir opening on, I was in love. The casual and Disney-like racial stereotypes. The awesome Indiana Jones-esque scenery. And oh God in Heaven, GIZMO. Forget what I said on my reviews of It’s A Wonderful Life and Miracle on 34th Street -- there is nothing in this world more indicative of the spirit of Christmas than a well-meaning Dad accidentally buying his kid a homicidal pet.

The plot, as experienced solely as a metaphor for 80s-level excess: Broke, inventor Dad (the spirit of American ingenuity) buys bank-teller son (a boy selling out his dreams for a buck) a strange pet in China Town (OUTSOURCING!) for Christmas. Said pet is Gizmo, who is adorable and a puppet and looks like Yoda except for more travel-sized and furry (the benefits of globalization). But there are three rules going along with Gizmo: 1. No bright lights (a brilliant metaphor for the way that over-exposure and commercialization cheapens our Christmas experience) 2. No water (a trenchant reminder that although we may have plenty this Christmas, there are people all over the globe suffering without basic resources) 3. No Food After Midnight (a not-so-subtle nod to the growing American trend of obesity and gluttony, and the way it can devalue a human being’s sense of themselves).

When we shine a light on something as pure as Gizmo, it dies. When we give it water, it duplicates, and each duplicate is worse than the first. When we feed its gluttony, it becomes evil. The movie, therefore, is actually a comment on the way that our normal experience of Christmas turns the adorable (Gizmo) into the profane (evil Gremlin monsters), and how then we have to microwave our excess to death (obviously a metaphor for overt government intervention. Or maybe for how women are ultimately the solution to our economic problems. THAT’S IT! This movie is SUPER feminist.)

Check out the scene, before the duplicates even turn overtly evil, when baby Gizmo just wants to play his awesome mini-saxophone music (ARTISTIC FREEDOM!). The mean new Gremlins, who just want to play overly commercialized video games, spit acid onto Gizmo (uh… the acid of capitalistic greed?). At another point, a scientist takes a mogwai (the pre-Gremlin Gremlins) and runs tests on him. ANIMAL TESTING, duh. The first person the Gremlins kill? A black man. Which is clearly all about… uh… racial injustice. And the school swimming pool that serves as home to the over-population of Gremlins is clearly a metaphor for… The Achievement Gap? Okay, so maybe not.

Maybe the movie is just an awesome one that uses the backdrop of what Christmas movies love to talk about (compassion, family, and believing in yourself) to add color to a story that features tiny little creatures terrorizing a town, including the best use of a swimming pool and one of those stair devices ever. I love it either way.

Random Observations: 


• Two Judge Reinhold movies in one Christmas season! I must have been good this year!

• 99% watch: Once again, the evil person in this Christmas movie is a heartless money lender/ bank manager (SHE TRIES TO KILL HIS DOG?!!)

• As a kid, I had a battery-operated Gizmo (Who never actually worked, if I remember correctly), so there’s something immensely comforting about the first moment when Billy pulls him out of the box

• This movie is a referencing machine, from It’s A Wonderful Life to Invasion of the Body Snatchers.

• Again, I’ve got to give it up for my much-maligned Chris Columbus, who wrote Gremlins.

• Gremlins may kill people, but at least they sing them Christmas carols first!

• Any true Christmas movie should include at least one scene where alien-looking beasts try to destroy a screaming Santa Clause. Duh.

• Come on Corey Feldman, you fight vampires. Get those GREMLINS!

• That dead Santa/father on Christmas story is dark. So dark it almost makes me feel bad for all the snarkiness.

• “You do with mogwai what your society has done with all of nature’s gifts. You are not ready.” HA! The movie agrees with me about the metaphors. Kind of.

24 days of Christmas: Mickey Mouse Edition

by Rachael Nisenkier

Christmas Carols are a dime a dozen. But versions, that don’t make me want to skip through half the ghosts? Well, those are much further and farther between. Mickey’s Christmas Carol is one of those, primarily because it’s only half an hour long. Also, apparently I just can’t handle the classic story if it’s not populated with anthropomorphized animals playing the characters. I’m not sure what this says about me.

Anyway, the Mickey version helpfully condenses a story that can sometimes justify an up to 3 hour play into 30 minutes (WITH COMMERCIALS) and greatly simplifies the themes. Scrooge McDuck is a miser who loves money, and is crappy to Bob Cratchett (Mickey) and everyone. Jiminy Cricket plays the ghost of Christmas past and carries Scrooge quickly to the golightly past. The ghost of Christmas present is The Giant from Jack and the Beanstalk (okay…), and it’s amusing to watch him struggle with lines like “it’s the food of generosity, which you have always denied.” The ghost of Christmas present is pretty much always a profound dolt, all about short sighted kindness and absentminded goofiness, but here he’s much more profoundly buffoonish. The scary Goofy villain type guy plays Christmas Future, and he’s a lot more malicious than you’re probably used to in the normally Dementor-like ghost. Plus he smokes cigars, which is just gross.

The jokes are cute, and surprisingly witty, and the super brisk pace may cut out a lot of the nuance, but it leaves in a lot of the fun. Overall, this is far from an essential Carol offering. It turns out I actually enjoy the nuance. But it is enough to prove that Mickey and co. have the capacity to make enjoyable entertainment that can play to adults, even while it’s way better at spreading communist propaganda to children.

Random Observations 
• Scrooge McDuck should be nicer to his nephew, Fred (Donald Duck). The poor guy clearly has serious learning problems.

• Going along with my 99% theme for these reviews, here’s a good quote for the 1%ers out there “You work all your life for your money, and people expect you to give it away!” 

• It really, profoundly disturbs me in all the version of A Christmas Carol when the door knocker turns into Marley, but I think it’s worst here, when it not only turns into Marley, but Marley is played by gosh darn GOOFY. What is this world coming to?

• How come Scrooge wears slippers, even though he never wears shoes?

• Okay so yes this version is goofy, but I do like mouse Tiny Tim better than frog Tiny Tim (from the Muppets), because he doesn’t wheeze annoyingly “The Turkey! The Turkey! The Turkey!” and sing obnoxiously optimistic songs.

• I’ll talk more about this in more substantial Christmas Carol offerings, but it always kind of seems like a cop out to me that Scrooge turns his life around after finding out about his own death. It seems like showing him that first, then building up his compassion for other people, might be the more profound route. THAT’S RIGHT, DICKENS! EDITED!

24 Days of Christmas: Old-School Edition

by Rachael Nisenkier

I chose the black and white 1947 version of Miracle on 34th Street not because of some pretentious need to see the original, but because I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before. I know I’ve seen the Matilda version at some point in time, so I’m much more interested in seeing how the 1947 classic holds up.

You know the plot: Kris Kringle takes over for a drunk department store Santa Clause and then ends up having to go to trial to defend his Claus-y-ness. As I said before, it kind of boggles my mind to think of the logic of this for too long (seriously, how do the parents NOT notice the extra presents?). One of the most interesting things about watching the 1947 version is that the essential message of the film is about cynicism and faith. The 1940s and 50s are traditionally a time we look back on with a nostalgic fondness for a bygone naïve era. But here, we are meant to examine the cynicism already prevalent in 1940s America. Given how much we believe our cynicism has grown since then, it’s particularly intriguing to examine the story. So here’s the rest of the plot, for those, like me, who only know the bare bones.

On top of the Santa Clause story, there’s the tale of Susan and Doris Walker. Doris is an executive at Macy’s who plans the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. She’s also divorced with a kid, which was apparently akin to being a leper in the 1940s. That kid is Susan (Natalie Wood, proving how ridiculous it was that she ever played a Puerto Rican), a girl so logical and straight forward that she doesn’t believe in giants, let alone one man who drives around with reindeer who fly to deliver toys to all good little boys and girls in one night. Santa Clause makes it his mission to help make Doris believe again, against all odds, in order to save Christmas. Or something.

Like It’s A Wonderful Life, this movie supports the very Christmas-y idea that doing the right thing, even when it garners bad stuff in the short term, leads to good things long term. Macy’s Santa Claus starts sending desperate parents to other stores so they can find their last minute Christmas presents. Far from hurting profits, this leads to an increased bottom line thanks to store loyalty. An amateur psychologist proclaims Kris insane, but Macy’s decides to keep him on staff since everyone loves him. They set him up to live with Doris’s neighbor, a bachelor lawyer who clearly has eyes for Doris, and in sharing close quarters with Doris, Susan and Mr. Lawyer, Kris begins to expand their ideas of what is possible. Then, the psychologist goads Kris into hitting him, and gets him carted off to a mental institution. Now, Mr. Lawyer (whose name is Mr. Gailey, but Mr. Lawyer is more fun) has to represent Santa in the court of law and public opinion. It’s a classic faith versus cynicism, corruption versus goodness, warmth versus cold case. And the ending, featuring grandstanding and beautiful monologues, as well as an abrupt and tear-jerking change of faith by Doris, is as hopeful and philosophical as one could wish from a Christmas movie.

At the end of the day, this movie doesn’t seriously challenge anything or say anything a thousand other Christmas movies hasn’t before (and, much more extensively, after). What it does, though, is make a case for the extraordinary. I’m pretty painfully agnostic, myself, and tend to live a Christmas that is more about family, friends, and popular culture than it is about the manger, Mary, and Jesus Christ. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t believe in what the movie calls “intangibles.” In fact, the reason why Miracle on 34th Street has remained so steadfastly popular is precisely because of its ability to fight through cynicism. It’s said best in the words of Mr. Lawyer himself, Fred Gailey: “Faith is believing when common sense tells you not to. Don't you see? It's not just Kris that's on trial, it's everything he stands for. It's kindness and joy and love and all the other intangibles. "

Random Observations: 
• Santa Clause in 1947 was skinnier than the average person today? That’s… depressing.

• I refrained, as much as possible, from ranting about this in the body of the review. But why the hell do all these people think it’s okay to tell Doris how to raise Susan? Oh, yes, that’s right, because she’s a woman. A DIVORCED woman. Blow me.

• Much more endearingly, the movie questions the whole idea of “normal,” and reaffirms the value of imagination. Take THAT 99%, this movie also makes a great argument for the ways that the free market actually supports goodness.

24 Days of Christmas: Slightly Cheating Edition

by Rachael Nisenkier

It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia is probably the only thing less traditionally Christmas-y than Bad Santa. And yet the straight-to-DVD Always Sunny Christmas movie is about to become a new classic for my Christmas routine.

Frank Reynolds (Danny DeVito) was a horrible father to Deandra (Kaitlin Olson) and Dennis (Glenn Howerton) throughout a childhood of Christmases. He would find out what they wanted, then buy it for himself. When he tries to pull that trick on them again, they decide to, Dickens-like, teach him a lesson. Meanwhile, Charlie (Charlie Day) and Mac (Rob McElhenney) examine their own childhood Christmas traditions, only to discover they weren’t quite as adorable as once anticipated. In true Sunny fashion, the results seem to go deeply past anything a normal human would think was possible in an endearing Christmas show.

The machinations of the plot are superfluous, although it is a shockingly well constructed special that plays out beautifully. The whole point of making the DVD, as far as I can tell, was to have an excuse to expose Danny DeVito’s backside to the unsuspecting viewer, but the side effect of this is that they have the budget to stage a beautiful claymation musical number (before Community did it, just sayin’). And like all good Christmas specials, it also reaffirms our central cast’s relationship with each other in a way that is still in keeping with the “these are the four most awful people imaginable” vibe that Sunny has perfected over the years. The four of them throwing rocks at an incoming train, having found the one tradition that still works for them, is the closest this show gets to sentimental. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Random Observations: 


• The perfect antidote to the wholesomeness of It’s A Wonderful Life:
Charlie Kelly: "Did you fuck my mom, Santa Claus? Did you fuck my mom? Did you fuck her? DID YOU FUCK MY FUCKING MOM? DID YOU FUCK MY MOM, SANTA? AAAAH!"  [Charlie bites Santa's neck, causing blood to spray everywhere, then drags him to the ground and mercilessly beats him in front of hundreds of crying children before Mac finally drags him away]

• You be the judge, who had the worse childhood Christmas tradition: A) MAC: going from house to house, stealing other children’s Christmas presents; B) CHARLIE: Hanging out at home, while many, many different Santas show up, give him presents, and… uh… hang out with his mother?

24 Days of Christmas: Wonderful, Tear-jerking Classic Edition

by Rachael Nisenkier

I went through a brief period in high school when I was positively obsessed with Jimmy Stewart. It was when I first started to get into older films, and I devoured Harvey, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, The Philadelphia Story, Destry Rides Again and a bunch of other movies that starred Stewart. I didn’t watch It’s a Wonderful Life, though. When I was in college, I took a class on Howard Hawkes that also encompassed some of his contemporaries, including It’s a Wonderful Life’s director, Frank Capra. We watched westerns, political movies, and romances, but we never watched It’s a Wonderful Life. In other words, despite the fact that I really love everything about this movie (including Christmas, which I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, I kind of love), I haven’t seen It’s a Wonderful Life since I was a pre-teen.

Watching it again, I am a little overwhelmed by just how lovely this movie is. At the worst times of the year, I am a sucker for stories about the inherent potency of decency. The tale of George Bailey, who went through a whole lot of tragedy while trying to do good in the world, is probably even more potent now. At the same time, Capra’s worldview is almost painfully naïve at times. Given the adorably simple economics that power Bailey’s rise to everyman hero, it’s tempting of course to compare the Great Depression-era heroics to the modern Great Recession-era anti-heroics. But Capra’s story isn’t so much about the actual mechanics of the bank story as about the resilience of the human spirit to do good. It’s a Wonderful Life is also the only Christmas movie I’ve watched so far that has God as a character, albeit a starry nebula character.

Now to the plot, It’s A Wonderful Life is told in medias res, starting with an angel (Clarence) getting the job of saving George Bailey. Then, it quickly starts with the beginning of Bailey’s life. Bailey’s life, on the face of it, was not a big life. He yearned for one. He talked a big game about traveling the world and leaving the town he grew up in in the dust. And he worked hard for it. But every time he tried to leave, the universe (God?) stops him. He’s about to leave for Europe, his Dad has a stroke. He’s about to go to college, the evil Mr. Potter threatens to take over his business. Four years later, his brother comes home with a wife who offers the brother a way out of their town. George, smart, kind, and compassionate George, ends up staying in town and he never leaves. The taint of that failure (in George’s eyes) follows him into his future, and even as he builds a life for himself in Bedford Falls there’s always a part of him that wonders if he wasn’t meant for something more. When Clarence steps in to stop a Depression-era George from committing suicide, he shows Bailey what life would be like in Bedford Falls without him.

The movie is ready to show us just how big a life Bailey actually lived. This is pure Capra. His overwhelming belief in the American ideal, even in the face of tragedy, and in the power of the righteous individual is exactly what I mean by “naïve.” But it’s also what makes It’s a Wonderful Life a Christmas classic, a stalwart reminder that despite everything in the world there’s the capacity for good and change. George’s decision to stick around and stick to his guns is what enables the goodness of the whole town to shine through. There’s a reason that TV shows and movies alike have been stealing this plot for years. It’s absurdly moving. Who hasn’t occasionally looked around at their life and wondered if the world around them would be better without them? Who hasn’t occasionally wondered if the road not taken was the right one? But the original, by mixing Christmas and Capra and the greatest parts of the “Greatest Generation,” is profoundly moving.

By the time the hapless angel Clarence shows up and starts showing George what life would be like without him, you’re already an hour and a half in, and deeply invested in this man’s salvation. He shows him a world without one man’s goodness, and shows the incredible ways that one life can touch all the others. I dare you to sit through the whole movie and not tear up when all the town’s people we’ve spent this movie with show up to help old George out. I know I sure couldn’t.

Random Observations: 
• “Mr. Potter, that this rabble you're talking about... they do most of the working and paying and living and dying in this community. Well, is it too much to have them work and pay and live and die in a couple of decent rooms and a bath?" The 99% should adopt this as their motto

• “You know, George, I feel that, in a small way, we are doing something important. Satisfying a fundamental urge. It's deep in the race for a man to want his own roof and walls and fireplace, and we're helping him get those things in our shabby little office.” Don’t you wish the people at the big banks felt this way about their jobs?

• “Why don’t you go to the riffraff you love so much and ask them to lend you the money?” awww, Mr. Potter, what beautiful foreshadowing.