Heartwarming holiday entertainment and schlock have always traveled together like Rudolph and Comet, but it used to be easier to tell the two apart. The delightful and poignant television special A Charlie Brown Christmas, from 1965, arrived a year after the sci-fi clunker Santa Claus Conquers the Martians (now a cult fave). One became a genuine classic, broadcast annually for 50 years, while the other largely vanished, destined to be mocked on Mystery Science Theater 3000.
But in the home-entertainment age, when network, basic cable and even premium channels have vast schedules to fill, if it has "Christmas" in the title, it seems to qualify for rebroadcast. Relatively recent films, like The Family Stone, from 2005, air (and air) more often than time-honored treasures such as Meet Me in St. Louis (the 1944 gem starring Judy Garland).
You could blame the most celebrated holiday film of them all, It's a Wonderful Life: initially a commercial disappointment when it was released in 1946, it accrued classic status and profitability, at least in part, because it was convenient to rerun. The film fell into the public domain for a time and was shown essentially free for many years. "They made money off every commercial they put in between the scenes of the movie," says David Bianculli, television critic for the NPR show Fresh Air. Eventually the film's copyright was restored, and it wasn't shown as often. (NBC will rebroadcast it on Christmas Eve.) "I do think it's a good movie, but it's a better movie now that it's limited," Bianculli adds. "We aren't dealing with a meritocracy at all."
The 1983 comedy A Christmas Story (which will run in a 24-hour marathon on TBS and TNT starting Christmas Eve) is arguably the last bona fide classic, given its longevity and stature, and even seems to be the template for the new form: familiar holiday rituals seen with a modern, even jaundiced eye. The new wave (including the blockbuster Home Alone) may be irreverent but never gets too naughty. Bad Santa, from 2003, is genuinely filthy (and hilarious), but it, too, contains a multitude of traditions, guaranteeing it a place among the perennials.
The director John Waters says he has been trying to make a holiday classic Fruitcake, as yet unfilmed, about a family of meat thieves who pilfer to feed Baltimore's poor. "To parody a Christmas movie, you have to respect the rules of the real ones," he says. "The characters have to learn something. They have to give up something, and they have to prove that it isn't all about getting presents and money."
If there's a musical sequence and a sense of time running out, that doesn't hurt either.
So, does a modern holiday film actually have to be any good? Or does it merely need to check every box to merit a permanent place on the December schedule? Here are some of television's most ubiquitous holiday films of the last quarter-century. Some are new classics, others merely filler.
m Elf (2003)
Will Ferrell's Buddy is a human raised by elves at the North Pole; James Caan is Walter, his long-lost father; Ed Asner is Santa; Bob Newhart is a Santa helper; and Zooey Deschanel is a bohemian department store "elf." All the actors commit, even if it involves conversing with a live raccoon.
Modern twist: Pretty much the entire film is a modern twist. In an early scene, a suspicious Walter subjects Buddy to a DNA test to prove he is indeed his son.
Traditional nod: Buddy encounters a stop-motion animated Burl Ives-ian Snowman, reminiscent of beloved '60s specials like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.
A classic? Yes. The director, Jon Favreau, and company (including Arkansan Mary Steenburgen) dispense with frat humor in favor of sweetness and a Christmastime celebration of innocence.
m National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation (1989)
The third installment of the National Lampoon family saga finds Clark and Ellen Griswold and company staying home. Calamitous travel yields to Clark's dream of the perfect, suburban Christmas: eggnog, lights and the extended clan, including Randy Quaid's freeloading Cousin Eddie, gathered around an evergreen.
Modern twist: "If he's so real, how come we didn't get squat last year?" cousin Eddie's daughter complains about Santa. The actual stock market plunged that October, and austerity abounds. Clark hopes for a bonus; he gets a gift certificate to the Jelly of the Month Club.
Traditional nod: Clark's miserly boss experiences a heartwarming Scrooge-style moment. "It's people that make the difference," he says. "Little people like you."
A classic? Yes. Of the three Griswold films (all written or partly written by John Hughes), it's the most idealistic and oddly subdued.
m Jingle All the Way (1996)
Can the descent from polite parents into child-approval-craving monsters in search of an "it toy" be played for comedy? In fits. Commentary? "This is a sick world," Sinbad's unhinged postal worker observes. "Sick people."
Modern twist: Unhinged postal workers.
Traditional (tear-jerker) moment: Arnold Schwarzenegger's son finds he doesn't need the toy now that he has a reformed bad dad.
A classic? No, it merely follows in the "bad dad reforms" footsteps of The Santa Clause.
m The Polar Express (2004)
The problem is, we get older and stop believing in Santa Claus. The solution? An enchanted locomotive that speeds children to the North Pole to meet the man. Can a film be unsettling and uplifting? When it's in the hands of Tom Hanks, yes. He lends his voice to a half-dozen roles, including Santa Claus, a hobo spirit and the pure-hearted Conductor.
Modern twist: The director Robert Zemeckis adapted an award-winning 1985 children's story using motion-capture computer animation. But the blinking virtual children and multiple Hankses can seem "stark, barren and devoid of life," as the doubting Hero Boy observes about the North Pole.
Traditional (musical) moment: A very busy salute to the wonders of hot cocoa, featuring leaping waiters parading through the children's car.
A classic? Yes. Unlike stop-motion television specials, its dated quality does not feel charming. And yet, innovators still owe it much gratitude, and there are moments of true holiday movie magic.
• Love Actually (2003)
In the weeks before Christmas, loosely entwined Londoners of varying ages, races and classes experience all manner of love: platonic, romantic, familial, unrequited, secret, professional and obsessive. (Rowan Atkinson's sales clerk seems to have a relationship with wrapping paper.)
Modern twist: It addresses the realities of a post-Sept. 11 world in the usually sunny realm of the romantic comedy. Britain's new prime minister (Hugh Grant) observes, "When the planes hit the twin towers, as far as I know, none of the phone calls from people on board were messages of hate or revenge. They were all messages of love."
Traditional nod: Most of the characters converge at a school Christmas pageant.
A classic? Yes. The director, Richard Curtis, fills the cast with nearly every great British actor, and they make even ridiculous moments -- Grant's dancing to the Pointer Sisters' "Jump (for My Love)" through 10 Downing Street -- seem like master classes.
• The Santa Clause (1994)
A divorced dad, Scott (Tim Allen), struggles to bond with his son during Christmas. He burns the turkey, forces a trip to Denny's and knocks the actual Santa Claus off the roof. Scott puts on the suit and takes over the route, unwittingly committing to becoming the new "big guy" next Christmas. He resists but slowly transforms into a plump, white-bearded St. Nick.
Modern twist: "You're supposed to drink the milk," a child tells a beardless Allen on his debut Santa run. "I'm lactose intolerant," he replies.
Traditional nod: A reading (albeit lackluster) of "A Visit From St. Nicholas."
A classic? Yes. Twenty years on, it remains a sweet, inventive film, ranking among Disney's best live-action experiences. Stay far away from The Santa Claus 2 and The Santa Claus 3.
Style on 12/23/2014