To Pilar Ampuero Duralde, for the ones I used to know Dave White, for making life a perpetual spree
Kevin Spacey, Judy Davis, and Denis Leary in The Ref (1994).
XV
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
... 190
CHAPTER 9
When I was growing up, my family had a big Christmas dinner every year on the evening of December 24. My mother would always make her tasty marinated shrimp cocktail, and there would be a turkey and a ham and all sorts of delicious foods. And when you're a kid, you assume that your family does everything the correct and appropriate way.
As I got older, I realized that other families had traditions of their own. Most of them ate Christmas dinner on the 25th, whereas my parents, both born in Spain, were keeping the Nochebuena tradition from their own childhoods. Other families had prime rib or lamb or pork loin or-and I shudder to even type this-tofurkey.
But that's the great thing about Christmas; it's a time of year when we honor tradition, but everybody's traditions are different. Real tree or fake? Andy Williams or Elvis Presley? Eggnog or wassail? Snowflake sweater or antler hat? No two people celebrate the holiday in the same way, and it's that variety-and the possibility of adding a new tradition or two to your repertoire along the way-that makes Christmas a holiday that's both universal and very personal.
So it is with film: Say the phrase "Christmas movie" to someone, and he or she is likely to respond by citing Its a Wonderful Life or A Christmas Story or Miracle on 34th Street. But give that person an extra minute, and he or she will likely add, "You know, I've always thought of Gremlins as one of my favorite Christmas movies," or "Hey, have you ever seen Lady in the Lake?"
I love White Christmas as much as the next guy, but with this book I'm hoping to expand the definitions that people have for Christmas movies. When I enjoy the dark humor of The Ref or La Bache, I get nostalgic for the very sarcastic (but way more functional) home in which I grew up. Even watching Bruce Willis as John McClane, putting everything on the line to rescue his estranged wife in Die Hard, gives me that glow that all great holiday-set redemption stories do. (And while I'm a total fraidy cat when it comes to horror movies, the original Black Christmas has somehow made its way onto my December screening list.)
It's never too late to discover a new Christmas favorite: My spouse showed me Scrooge (1970) for the first time when I was in my early 3os, and it instantly became my favorite screen adaptation of A Christmas Carol. More recently, Arnaud Desplechin's A Christmas Tale jumped on the list of movies I'm going to want to watch every December, so don't be surprised if some of the films contained herein shake up your traditional viewing habits.
Like all lists, this one is subjective and by no means complete, although I've tried to cover a broad range of films while also including the titles of plenty of other holiday movies in the appendix. Whether you're reading about films you already love or learning about new ones you might never have heard of, I hope this book entertains you and leads you toward movies that will bring you joy (in the form of laughs, tears, or screams) this Christmas.
Thanks for reading, and Happy Holidays!
It's a Wonderfid Life ends with George Bailey learning the measure of a man's wealth is in the friends that he makes, and the long and involved process of writing and publishing a book reminds me just how true that is.
For starters, this hook would not be in your hands were it not for Eric Myers. I always wondered why people thanked their agents in awards-show acceptance speeches, but after working with Eric, I get it now. It was his unyielding belief in this project and his dogged efforts that took all of this from being a concept in the back of my mind to the published book it finally became.
Thanks also to everyone at Limelight Editions and Hal Leonard Publishing, particularly John Cerullo, Marybeth Keating, and Gary Morris, whose support and guidance has been invaluable throughout the process. A special shout-out as well to Ron Mandelbaum, Andrew McGovern, and Doug McKeown at Photofest-and photographer extraordinaire Gabriel Goldberg-for the photos that appear throughout.
Saving me from sounding like an idiot were my devoted crew of first-draft porer-overs, who brilliantly suggested improvements and corrections when all the sentences started blurring together for me: Robert Abele, Sean Abley, Charlotte Del Rose, Dennis Hensley, Jenni Olson, Mary Jo Pehl, Stephen Rebello, Margy Rochlin, and Kim Usey were quick to pick up on any number of my factual and grammatical errors.
The staff at the Margaret Herrick Library of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences and at the Paley Center for Media/ Los Angeles provided much-needed information and suggestions at every turn, as did the hard-working clerks at Rocket Video on La Brea Avenue in Hollywood. (Thanks for steering me to The Silent Partner, guys!) And I am forever indebted to Dave Kittredge and Rob McClary for putting together such extraordinary film-clip packages for both of my books.