Anyone close to me will tell you that Love Actually is my all-time favourite film, and Hugh Grant’s monologue at the beginning is one of my favourite lines in cinema. I love everything about the film - it lacks the conventional ‘boy meets girl’ romcom troupe with its multiple storylines. The characters sit on such a wide spectrum in terms of their personalities and tribulations; one discovers her husband is having an affair, one has recently lost his wife, and another is in love with his best friend’s wife. Every subplot is tinged with sadness, just like in real life. Even on my happiest days, I feel exactly the same way.
Christmas films in general elicit a distinctive warmth in my heart that can only be enlightened in December; even the films that don’t interest me plotwise win me over with their aesthetics and scores. This week I wanted to write a post on my favourite Christmas films and the books they remind me of.
The Polar Express - The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt
I'm in the minority that finds the animation of this film static and the plot underwhelming, however, I love the concept. A childhood fantasy of mine (which understandably, has yet to come true) was to catch a late-night train in the snow. Aesthetically, it sounds wonderful. I'm very aware though that the reality would be me shivering on a platform waiting for a train that would probably get cancelled.
Similarly to the Hero Boy in The Polar Express, Theo in The Goldfinch goes on a journey of self-discovery. Theo's journey is far more complicated and devastating, however; he survives a terrorist bombing in an art museum which kills his mother. In the rubble of the museum, he collects a painting which he treats and protects as though it is all he is have left of his mother.
This is very much a book that covers so much ground and takes no shortcuts. Nothing is skimmed over, every setting (a pitstop is made to Amsterdam at Christmas) and character is described in lengthy and profound detail. It's a hefty read, and if you're not someone who has it in you to complete a c. 700-page book, the original Polar Express novel might be a better option for you. It's better than the film!
The Holiday - The Switch by Beth O’Leary
Every year a debate arises amongst my associates as to whether The Holiday or Love Actually is the best Christmas rom-com. I always say the latter, as The Holiday lacks a dancing Hugh Grant in number 10, though I still love this film. I find both Jude Law and Jack Black so irresistibly charming; Jude Law in a sophisticated kind of way and Jack Black in an awkward but adorable kind of way. Kate Winslet is also one of my favourite actresses and I love seeing her portray a lovesick, hard-done-by woman. To give someone your heart, soul and work ethic is a tribulation a lot of us have come by.
In the film, Cameron Diaz’s character, Amanda, switches homes with Kate Winslet’s character, Iris, in an attempt to move on from her messy split with her ex-boyfriend. Iris happens to live in a cottage tucked away in the English countryside, her living situation not unlike Eileen in The Switch, for the 79-year-old lives in a rural Yorkshire village. Her granddaughter Leena, who is ordered to take a 2-month break from work, decides the pair will swap homes during her sabbatical. Eileen temporarily moves to London in the hopes to find love, whilst Leena attempts to unwind.
It’s A Wonderful Life - The Midnight Library by Matt Haig
I mentioned this novel in my autumnal book tag. I completely comprehend why it might not be everyone's cup of tea, however, I personally loved the idea of a gigantic library separating life and death. Matt Haig articulates the mind of a depressive so specifically, there’s no in-between as to whether or not a reader can or can't relate.
It's A Wonderful Life has several interpretations; the biggest takeaway is that dreams not coming true imminently, or at the same pace as your peers', is fine. It doesn't mean you're a failure and it doesn't mean you'll never find success. I remind myself of this every day.
Jack Frost - A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness
This film owns the title of being the first ever film to make me cry. As in, I sobbed the first time I watched it. The moment when Charlie breaks down crying in his mum’s arms whilst trying to shovel the snow off the driveway had me sobbing. I had to turn the film off and go into another room. I’m so close to my dad, he’s probably my favourite person in the world. Jack Frost breaks my heart every year, I find the prospect of losing my dad a painfully unimaginable concept. Had I stayed watching and seen the CGI snowman they turn Michael Keaton’s character into, I probably would have cheered up considerably.
A book that had a similar impact on me was A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness, which I read during the first lockdown. As someone who really struggles with accepting change and the inevitable, I thought it was a beautifully told story. The prose pulls you in more than the plot itself; Ness weaves art and grace into his tone. With the exception of Harry Potter and Narnia, I don’t usually enjoy fantasy novels, however, Ness conveys the genre fusion into the contemporary world so well.
The novel is about a thirteen-year-old boy, Conor, who lives with his terminally ill mother. A tree-like figure at the bottom of Conor’s garden calls the young boy at night and tells him various stories throughout the novel, each of which carries an underlying lesson. As the novel goes by, it becomes increasingly obvious that the monster is trying to prepare Conor for the inevitable.
A Charlie Brown Christmas - A Letter from Santa Claus by Mark Twain
I adore this 30-minute classic, everything from the soundtrack to the dialogue is just perfect. I know you’re not supposed to plan your life too far in advance but if there’s a special I can’t wait to watch with my children, it’s this one.
The film conveys how magical Christmas has the potential to be when you’re young but unlike Nativity, it also demonstrates how quickly it can be taken away. Up until this year, I never thought I’d be sad at Christmastime; I find Charlie’s distress at the hope and warmth the holidays elicit in every direction he turns painfully relatable.
Mark Twain wrote a letter to his then-3-year-old daughter in 1875 ‘from’ Santa Claus It’s a short, beautiful piece of work; it’s easy to infer how much Twain adored his daughter. He tells her that he received her letters and will keep her wishes in mind, reminding her that “whenever you are naughty and someone points to that mark which your good old Santa Claus's boot made on the marble, what will you say, little sweetheart?”
Love Actually - From Notting Hill With Love Actually by Ali McNamara
I tell everyone that Breakfast at Tiffany’s is my favourite film but anyone close to me knows it’s really Love Actually.
Yes, half of the characters are one-dimensional caricatures. And yes, half the storylines involve infidelity and death and sexism. Surely you can’t be so offended by a film that portrays what real life is really like, though? Richard Curtis put his heart into the plot and dialogue and cast a whimsical ensemble to play the roles; it’s a delightful and honest homage to love, which in the words of Hugh Grant, is actually all around.
In Ali McNamara’s novel (which, to my delight, is overflowing with Richard Curtis references) rom-com lover Scarlett is given the enviable opportunity to housesit a home in Notting Hill. And almost typically, her next-door neighbour Sean is an absolute charmer. McNamara’s prose carries the same magic and humour Curtis weaves into his dialogue; Scarlett’s greatest frustration with her fiance is that he is sensible. A notion is illustrated within both Love Actually and From Notting Hill With Love Actually that it’s rare to be satisfied with the love you have.
Home Alone and Home Alone 2: Lost in New York - Greenglass House by Kate Milford
*I don’t acknowledge the existence of any of the Home Alone films after the second one*
I’m convinced these were everyone’s favourite Christmas films when they were growing up - they were certainly mine. I’ve noticed in recent years that the violence in the films doesn’t go over my head as easily as it used to. Nor does how unorganised and neglectful Kevin’s parents are.
Nonetheless, I love these films: I love John Williams’ score, I love the visuals, the cartoon violence holds up every single year and I live for Catherine O’Hara’s “KEVIN!” Chris Colombus’ films never fail to ignite a warmth inside of me; the first two Home Alone films, the first two Harry Potter films, Rent and Mrs Doubtfire all hold a special, comforting place in my heart.
In Greenglass House, Milford tells the story of a smuggler's inn at Christmastime. The innkeeper's son, Milo, becomes embroiled in the hotel’s mysterious guests and happenings. To some extent, it bares similarities to Agatha Christie’s And then There Were None though this is far less gruesome. Milo encounters a girl his age, Meddy, who encourages him to be imaginative in his quest to find out the reason behind his being. I love Meddy - in my opinion, her strength and creativity hold similarities to Wendy.
I want to dedicate this post to my little sister Mallika, who turned 21 yesterday. I sadly didn't get to see her because she's going skiing in France for the week (I'm not jealous at all) but I can't wait for her to come home next week!
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Lots of love, Karisma xx