We need more realistic Christmas movies
(And other festive-related thoughts.)
The Muppets Christmas Carol is the GOAT Christmas movie followed by Lethal Weapon, Die Hard, LA Confidential, and Bridget Jones’s Diary. During the mostly dazzling and totally purgatorial weeks leading up to the holidays, I have watched over a dozen or so Christmas movies with my girlfriend, who is currently undergoing a blustering meltdown because I forget to leave our Christmas tree lights plugged in 24/7. Comparisons to regular films have always presented a challenge where Christmas flicks are concerned, as they seem both doomed and unfair. I enjoy watching them, but these plotlines exist in stark contrast to a real-life holiday experience. My insistent desire to compare and contrast what is realistic and what isn’t places me within my own mild and smoggy microclimate of perpetual headache. I pose these questions to my girlfriend, but she is unable to answer them without blinking or filibustering.
The ambiance ranges from idealistic to slightly off-kilter. The background music is some variation of upbeat jazz, but I need to see a TV on in the distance that’s playing a college football bowl game at a volume that makes any conversation barely audible. A realistic hero’s journey involves a guy finding a five-bottle variety pack of hot sauce to get for his dad, but it can’t be the same one as last year. The Bear nailed the chaotic bustle of preparing a Thanksgiving dinner with a dysfunctional family filled with maladaptive psychos, and I would like to see this kind of realism translated into Christmas movies.
A childless 30-something couple travels to one of their hometowns for the holidays. Instead of going on a cute ice skating date, they are sitting on opposite ends of a couch, day-drinking and wordlessly scrolling TikTok. They ask each other if they finished today’s Wordle.
A single guy goes back to his hometown, but he doesn’t reconnect with his high school friends, because that’s overdone. We see him lying in his childhood bed, swiping through Hinge until he comes across his high school sweetheart. She is recently divorced with three kids. Her fourth pic is of her in a MAGA hat while holding a pink handgun. Her bio reads, “I believe in traditional values, freedom of speech, and that boys are boys and girls are girls.”
A Hallmark movie dedicated to ordering Chinese takeout on Christmas Eve because you’re too lazy and hungover from the uncomfortable office party the night before. (They made you work on Christmas Eve because you’re part of the tech startup family.) The protagonist is so burnt out, that they forget to call their family until the day after Christmas. The Twitter Holiday Special.
In these movies, the Christmas Miracle is Santa delivering all the gifts in time or that love conquers all. I need a movie where the real miracle of Christmas is you show up to your hometown bar and you don’t run into anyone you vaguely know and can’t place their name.
I’m Having a Jolly Time Scrolling Instagram
When you are in your young-30s and you have no kids, scrolling through Instagram delivers an insane amount of whiplash. Half of my timeline is full of couples with kids and they’re hosting their relatives for the holidays, and I’m still going over to my parent’s house.
I’ll come across a JCPenney photo of someone I went to high school with, and they have spawned three little monsters—which is terrifying enough—and they’re all dressed like reindeer who went to boarding school.
Another swipe down, and it’s someone I went to college with and they’re dressed like sexy Mrs. Claus, which makes me wonder if she just recently ended her six-year long-distance relationship with a finance bro from London.
I scroll further, and it’s my friends who just had a baby, and the mom is dressed like mistletoe, the dad is dressed like eggnog, and the kid is dressed like a bottle of rum. And that is sweet, but it might be more for the parents than the kid.
I flick my thumb once again, and my friend’s dad bought himself a $1,300 crossbow as a pre-Christmas treat, and they’re spending the day watching the new Avatar on Disney+, which I guess has lots of bow and arrow action for him to learn from.
Ugly Christmas Sweaters Are Going Too Far
I am a sucker for ugly Christmas sweaters; I have three Nordic-style wool J. Crew sweaters that have been a hit around the office and a rizzed-up show-stopper at the company holiday party. Somewhere deep in my closet of sparsely worn garments, there is a red sweater with a picture of a gingerbread person with most of its head bitten off, and it says “I can’t feel my face when I’m with you.” I once had a giant Christmas color tartan plaid sweater and a sweater vest with presents and a tree that I thrifted over 10 years ago, and it was my go-to for any ugly Christmas sweater parties.
But the style is getting bastardized. Thrifting has also somewhat gone to shit, if not completely gentrified. The dark days of December were an excuse to wear something more chic. Nowadays, it seems like the festive dress code is another reason to buy yet another merchandise item of your favorite entertainment conglomerate—just swap the plastic collectible figurine for a polyethylene sweater. Showing up well-dressed to the Christmas drinks at work almost feels more smugly contrarian than flamboyant. It was a thing when people would go to resale shops or whatever just to see what they could find; there was a degree of earnestness and authenticity to the “look at this ridiculous thing I’ve stumbled upon!” Now The Office fans can buy a “Dwight Christmas” sweater or whatever other horseshit is being hocked. It’s just another way of buying a funko pop.
Ah, this makes me feel joyless and biter…
My Girlfriend is Taking Over Santa Duties
My girlfriend fancies herself as a top-notch giver, and to her credit, her wrapping is precise and bow-tying is pristine. The gifts lying under our Christmas tree are aesthetically pleasing and must remain in a specific position as mandated by her anxiety and festive OCD. When I tell her what I want for Christmas and my birthday, she will reject my wishes and tell me she will surprise me with something that she will promise me I’ll like more according to her priorities—I have come to understand that the key to gift-giving is not about what the giftee wants to receive, but about what the giver wants to gift.
She also loves searching for and finding gifts for people. This has reached a point where she has commandeered gift-giving for her entire immediate family; she coordinates a shared Apple Notes doc with a bullet point list of desired gifts for her mother, sister, her two nieces, me, and her brother-in-law, all adorned with specific details, price points, and hyperlinks.
No one gets anything for anyone else without clearing it through her, because she is the only one who knows what everyone wants. I needed a new pair of jeans, and instead, I received a year pass to Masterclass. She has since binged three hours of Gordon Ramsay tutorials before I’ve watched my first video.
Also, she Ioves getting things. She is excellent at receiving things.
Ever see "Scrooged"? I was just reminded by someone here on Substack about this movie, and it's well worth visiting/revisiting.
I’d like to add Office Christmas Party to your list. (Wait, I’m feeling like we already agreed on this? It’s my long COVID brain acting up again).
Also, thanks to you I now know that you can share Notes with other iPhone users. Guess which aunty ISN’T collecting everyone’s wish lists, compiling them into one document, and then repeatedly texting the whole list out to all the procrastinators next year?!