The debate over whether Die Hard can be considered a Christmas movie has been raging for years, with some arguing that the 1988 action classic simply uses the holiday as a backdrop. But what makes a truly worthy Christmas film?
For many, it's not about happy-ever-after sentimentality, but rather about striking a balance between cynicism and nostalgia. Take, for example, Stanley Kubrick's Eyes Wide Shut, released in 1999. Despite its hefty budget, the film manages to avoid the fuzziness that often plagues festive films. Instead, it explores themes of marital infidelity and consumerism, rendering Christmas as a time of alienation rather than joy.
Then there's Steven Spielberg's Catch Me If You Can (2002), which masterfully strikes this balance. The film's final sequence, set in a French village with twinkling fairy lights and carolers, is a perfect encapsulation of the peering-through-the-window feeling many of us experience during the holiday season.
But what about more recent films that push the boundaries of traditional Christmas movies? Enter Harry Lighton's breakout film Pillion, released last week. Based on Adam Mars-Jones's novel Box Hill, it follows a sub/dom relationship between biker Ray and Colin in suburban Bromley. Set during Christmas, the film takes a bold stance by eschewing sentimental sentimentality for an unsentimental look at queer relationships.
Lighton has stated that he aimed to comment on how queer relationships don't fit into heteronormative domesticity – a theme encapsulated beautifully through the contrasting settings of Colin's family home and Ray's spartan, leather-clad world. Like The Holiday (2006), which also challenges traditional notions of festive films, Pillion proves that Christmas movies can be so much more than just happy-ever-after tales.
In conclusion, what makes a truly worthy Christmas film? For this writer, it's about striking a balance between cynicism and nostalgia – conjuring Christmas without sentimentality is its own skill. And with Pillion, we see a welcome example of this. Whether you're into action films like Die Hard or more nuanced explorations of queer relationships like Pillion, the best festive films approach Christmas as aesthetic or intellectual terrain, rather than as a vehicle for happy-ever-after normalcy.
Ultimately, the most memorable Christmas movies are those that manage to tap into our collective experiences – whether it's feeling left out during family gatherings, exploring themes of marital infidelity, or simply finding joy in the alien landscape of consumerism.
For many, it's not about happy-ever-after sentimentality, but rather about striking a balance between cynicism and nostalgia. Take, for example, Stanley Kubrick's Eyes Wide Shut, released in 1999. Despite its hefty budget, the film manages to avoid the fuzziness that often plagues festive films. Instead, it explores themes of marital infidelity and consumerism, rendering Christmas as a time of alienation rather than joy.
Then there's Steven Spielberg's Catch Me If You Can (2002), which masterfully strikes this balance. The film's final sequence, set in a French village with twinkling fairy lights and carolers, is a perfect encapsulation of the peering-through-the-window feeling many of us experience during the holiday season.
But what about more recent films that push the boundaries of traditional Christmas movies? Enter Harry Lighton's breakout film Pillion, released last week. Based on Adam Mars-Jones's novel Box Hill, it follows a sub/dom relationship between biker Ray and Colin in suburban Bromley. Set during Christmas, the film takes a bold stance by eschewing sentimental sentimentality for an unsentimental look at queer relationships.
Lighton has stated that he aimed to comment on how queer relationships don't fit into heteronormative domesticity – a theme encapsulated beautifully through the contrasting settings of Colin's family home and Ray's spartan, leather-clad world. Like The Holiday (2006), which also challenges traditional notions of festive films, Pillion proves that Christmas movies can be so much more than just happy-ever-after tales.
In conclusion, what makes a truly worthy Christmas film? For this writer, it's about striking a balance between cynicism and nostalgia – conjuring Christmas without sentimentality is its own skill. And with Pillion, we see a welcome example of this. Whether you're into action films like Die Hard or more nuanced explorations of queer relationships like Pillion, the best festive films approach Christmas as aesthetic or intellectual terrain, rather than as a vehicle for happy-ever-after normalcy.
Ultimately, the most memorable Christmas movies are those that manage to tap into our collective experiences – whether it's feeling left out during family gatherings, exploring themes of marital infidelity, or simply finding joy in the alien landscape of consumerism.