Christmas Classics: Home Alone and Home Alone 2

Continuing my series on Christmas movies and their endurance through the years in holiday entertainment, today I select a more contemporary favorite; one of my own generation. 

     Home Alone and its sequel Home Alone 2: Lost in New York are classics of the 90’s on their own, with or without the fact that they’re also considered Christmas classics by many. Kevin McCallister will always be the role that McCauley Culkin is most remembered for; a career high at a ridiculously early age. So why is this museum of 90’s caricatures a must-watch year after year?

     Home Alone combines the worst fears of every parent (their child being alone and preyed on by miscreants) and the worst fears of every child (being left behind), and turns it into something hilarious and lightly sentimental. Most young boys fantasize about how they would deal with “bad guys”; Home Alone runs with this idea, presenting that maybe a kid with an imagination might be a force to be reckoned with. In many ways, Home Alone is the actualization of this boyish fantasy to protect his home and fight off “bad guys,” while also lightly exploring the delusions of adulthood from the perspective of a kid. Home Alone isn’t just a juvenile’s dream of playing the soldier, but also the fancy of playing grown-up for real: braving the basement, picking out your own food, sole possession of the remote control, and all of the fun things about adulthood, with none of the real responsibilities.

     The fantasy aspect of the Home Alones is certainly not the only factor contributing to their appeal, but I do believe that it contributes significantly. The boyhood tale of valor versus the bad guys feels familiar to anyone who remembers what it was like to be a kid and to have such imaginations. But what is also familiar here is the unapologetic portrayal of family. Home Alone delivers multiple moments of frustration and drama, and very few of the maudlin displays of love and affection more often associated with holiday movies. Whether it's crass uncle Frank, plump and sweet Aunt Leslie, bullying big brother Buzz, or a devoted but exasperated mom, everyone can find that one family member onscreen that's a heck of a lot like someone they know in their own family. 

     Unlike the plethora of holiday-themed romance movies or feel-good family movies, the originality of Home Alone and its sequel Lost in New York are two of a kind that has been often imitated, but never duplicated, and certainly never surpassed. The Home Alones marry a Three Stooges style buffoonery with light sentimentality and the one thing every audience member can relate to: a difficult family. That combination, carried by character archetypes of the 1990’s and the suburban holiday backdrop, make the Home Alone movies a unique kind of entertainment that is one part wishful thinking (beating up the bad guys through ingenuity), one part realistic association (difficult family, holiday hubbub), and by now, a bit of nostalgia for those of us that remember the 90's. 

Christmas Classics: White Christmas

Over the next few weeks, I'm going to be taking a look at a few choice Christmas movies that are considered classics, and talk a little about why I think these particular movies have endured over the years. What is it about these particular movies that makes them a must-watch year after year? What is it that has made these particular movies stand out and endure through time to be considered classics? 

I begin this series with an obvious choice, White Christmas.

     White Christmas is in every way, a quintessential Christmas movie. With the incomparable skills of Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney as the leading voices, and the peerlessly charismatic Danny Kay tapping and dancing his way around Vera Ellen, it’s little wonder that White Christmas has stood the test of time to become one of the most beloved Christmas movies of all time.

     Although White Christmas boasts Irving Berlin’s iconic songs and “the most fabulous music and mirth show in motion picture history” according to the movie’s tagline, it is neither of these things that, I believe, are the true reason why White Christmas has endured through the decades. Certainly no one can sing it like Bing, but the heart of White Christmas is gently hidden in the sweet lyric “just like the ones I used to know.”

     More than anything, White Christmas simultaneously mourns and celebrates a bygone era for America, and for its individuals. When we first meet Bob Wallace and Phil Davis (Bing Crosby and Danny Kay), they’re dutifully entertaining their troops while deployed during WWII. When the war is over, the pair become hugely successful partners in the entertainment business. Bob Wallace immerses himself in workaholism to avoid being entangled with the bubbleheaded starlets he is necessarily surrounded by, while Phil Davis works tirelessly to try and get Bob to settle down and accept their new lives. A few subtle lines hint that Bob longs to find meaning and purpose in his work; something that the former captain has yet to find in show business. Maybe he doesn’t miss the war, yet as a viewer it’s clear that Bob is more at home standing on a makeshift stage on ruins in front of his fellow soldiers to raise morale, than he is consorting with showgirls backstage of elite clubs.

No character encapsulates this sentiment of seeking meaning and purpose more than General Waverly. There’s something in the life he used to know that is acutely lacking in his retirement. In the film’s most poignant moment, Waverly is publicly honored and remembered by his men for his years of leadership. The longing subtly aches for a company of men, a purpose to fight for, and the love and honor of the home country, just like they used to know. They don’t long for war, but for the comfort and warmth that coming home from war used to mean.

     Elsewhere, White Christmas relishes in what we call old-fashioned romance in the midst of grand song-and-dance pieces. Characters act selflessly, mischievously, nobly, and humorously. All of the hallmarks of a great romcom are present in White Christmas, and while that’s not what the movie is remembered for, it wouldn’t be the same without the sweet relationship between Bob and Betty in all of its 1950’s charm, or the awkward schemes of Phil and Judy driving the subplot. Truth be told however, the real chemistry here is between Phil and Bob, with their endless supply of witty lines endlessly thrown at each other. 

     White Christmas has become an all-in-one picture of the life, the holidays, and the friends “just like the ones I used to know” or wish we did. It’s an homage to a time (real or imagined) when patriotism was running high, romance was sweet and simple, and men would rise up to bring goodwill to their fellow man. Whether or not things ever were this way, the years upon years that White Christmas has been replayed have embedded this sentimental idea in our hearts, carried on the wings of a warm and inspiring story, and sealed with unforgettable music and mirth. 

Thor: Ragnarok

     For a franchise centered on the God of Thunder, the Thor movies have been disappointingly lackluster. Well, over-lustered truth be told. Preposterous costumes. Overuse of color. Dialogue bogged down in its own pretentiousness. And just when it seemed like Thor might only be good as a small part of the Avengers ensemble, we get Thor: Ragnarok. Thor: Ragnarok is over-lustered with preposterous costumes, overuse of color, and pretentious dialogue, but delightfully embraces it with gusto, humor, and shameless self-awareness.
     
     Thor: Ragnarok parodies itself and its predecessors at every turn, flatly refusing to take itself seriously. Whatever Thor and The Dark World were aiming to be, Ragnarok doesn't care. If Thor and The Dark World had ambitions of being part of a serious franchise, Ragnarok casually tosses these hopes aside and then knocks back a swig of Asgardian ale, swaggering onward without a care. 

     Ragnarok decides early on that it won't be bothered with petty emotional arcs, and immediately dispels with the weakest points of the previous two movies with apathetic irreverence. The completely nonsensical romance between the God of Thunder and utterly boring earth scientist Jane Foster is mercifully over, and not even Thor seems to mind that too much. Odin passes away, and neither Thor nor Loki are affected beyond the healing powers of ten seconds' screen time. When Hela, the sister Thor never knew he had, shows up to reign sovereign over all nine realms and beyond, Thor never even asks why he's never heard of her, or wonders why his parents never mentioned her. Elsewhere, Hela unceremoniously disposes of Thor's sidekicks, and Thor never seems to notice. In fact, if you weren't paying attention, you may have entirely missed that Thor's best friends have been offed. It would seem that angst, drama, and pondering are the domain of Captain America, not Thor. And this works charmingly well in Ragnarok. 

     Whomever it was that decided that the third and final Thor movie could do without certain things was equally wise in realizing that there isn't a necessity for such things to be replaced. For example, Jane Foster is absent from Ragnarok, Lady Sif is nowhere to be found, and there's no love story of any kind in the movie. This decision alone buoyed Ragnarok out of the painful mediocrity that The Dark World left the franchise in. Ragnarok also avoids giving us too many villains and subplots. Hela is the villain, and everyone else is a nuisance at best. Not even Jeff Goldblum's absurd Grandmaster seems very threatening next to Hela's elk-from-Hades vibe. Speaking of Hela, true to the tone of the movie, Hela is an over-the-top villain, fitting perfectly into this absurd world of flashy colors and outrageous costumes. She's not a tortured semi-sympathetic villain, but a classically aristocratic evil who relishes in her nefarious ambitions.

     Back for his fourth turn as the bane of Asgard is Loki, ever vacillating between narcissistic mischief and dark ambitions. Predictably, Thor and Loki must team up again while contending with how often they try to get rid of each other along the way. Thor will never stop insisting that Loki can't be trusted, all the while trusting him anyway. Loki will never stop insisting he can trusted, all the while stabbing the backs of whomever is in his way. Everyone uses each other, and that's just the nature of the game. Thor knows that Loki will ultimately betray him again, so he uses him as long as he can. Loki knows that at some point he'll want to make another play for power, so he plays sides wherever best suits him.

     In the way of new characters, personally, I didn't see that Valkyrie brought very much to the table other than fan service, but since I've already gone to great lengths to explain how very un-serious Ragnarok is, I can't be overly critical about unimportant characters or gratuitous cameos. Speaking of the latter however, I was expecting to see more of Dr. Strange after the end credit scene in his movie, but it was a somewhat shoehorned moment. The only real purpose for it seemed to be putting Cumberbatch and Hiddleston on screen at the same time, and reminding the audience that they're all in the same universe. But since Strange's otherwise unnecessary cameo provided a few more moments to chuckle about, I'm not complaining. Ragnarok also introduces Skurge as a sort of accidental henchman, who is likewise not particularly important, but has his moments here and there before traveling an utterly predictable road in the finale.

     The strongest point of Thor: Ragnarok is the effortless chemistry between Thor and Loki. The brotherly dynamic between Thor and Loki never wears off, and as always, you can't help but hope that they can work things out long enough to stay onscreen together as long as possible. Yet even when they inevitably double-cross each other, there's a playful mischief in it that's oddly endearing.

     Thor: Ragnarok is quite simply, fun. The film walks the perfect line of comedy without making itself into a parody, and keeps just enough relevant story in the mix to make it interesting and worthwhile. Ragnarok may not top any lists of greatest superhero movies, but it towers over its other Thor predecessors, boldly and hilariously taking its own trippy and somewhat un-heroic path.