Secrets, Scissors, Streets and Saviours
By: Rafiq Hilton
Tags: Christmas Movies, Trading Places, Tokyo Godfathers, Brazil, Eyes Wide Shut

My top five alternative Christmas films

The festive period can seem a little stale and predictable for adults. The consumerist behemoth it has become by this stage means for many of us it lacks the magic we experienced as kids. All too often the seasonal flick is like the customary impulse to overindulge: a bloated confection of predictable schmaltz and cliches. Here then are some alternative movies (in no particular order) that feature Christmas but in some unusual, unsettling and above all unexpected ways.

Tokyo Godfathers (Satoshi Kon, 2003)

It's Christmas Eve and in the dirtier side streets of Tokyo, a band of three homeless misfits stumble upon an abandoned baby whilst rummaging for food amongst the rubbish. After some bickering (setting the tone for the entire film) they realise they must find the rightful parents and return the child. With Trans surrogate mum Hana having dubbed the newborn Kyoko (here meaning ‘pure child’) they venture forth, but the road ahead is not only uncharted, it is beset with perils and dramatic chance encounters that uncover little pieces of the trio’s former lives. The hero’s journey is, as ever, revealing and as we learn more about their pasts, the themes of the film emerge with an elegance not normally associated with caper comedy.

A meticulous balance of slapstick humour and poignancy plays out in what is now a cult classic of the Christmas film oeuvre. Satoshi Kon is known for thought-provoking concepts and refined narratives, so Tokyo Godfathers feels like he is liberated into the mayhem of a caper, a contrast to his previous work.

Whilst the comic elements of the film are evident from the first moment, the depth is revealed through flawed but relatable characters. This is what evokes the subject matter we would ordinarily associate with festive films (kindness to strangers, family, forgiveness, belonging) but in a decidedly offbeat manner. The abiding message of this film is one of togetherness and remembering your loved ones. In the conventional festive flick, this is all too often saccharine and obvious, lacking subtlety or nuance. In Tokyo Godfathers, the brash silliness of its surface belies its complexity and universal appeal.

This is a film for anime buffs certainly, but it will find fans in anyone willing to give it 90 minutes of their time. It expertly weaves together an array of narrative threads and character exposition in a taut run time and with rare ease. Eminently watchable and fast-paced, there is pathos and laughs and even a healthy dose of thrilling drama in its conclusion.

Eyes Wide Shut (Stanley Kubrick, 1999)

With a film selection from the late cinematic genius that is Kubrick, we are well and truly in the realm of the alternative. Based on a Viennese novella called Traumnovelle (which translates to ‘Dream Story’) the narrative of the film adaptation takes place over the festive period, the setting here moved to New York. The bulk of this eerily toned foray into the yearning emptiness of the Big Apple’s rich elites however is far from festive. Maybe that depends on how you like to spend Christmas but for most, a masked orgy would seem unconventional!

The story centres on Alice (Nicole Kidman) and Bill (Tom Cruise) Harford, two wealthy and successful doctors. An exploration of the fractures that exist between them, the film delves into themes of marital disharmony, jealousy and darker desires that reveal murkier worlds.

Following Alice’s confession of a fantasised adultery, Bill storms off with some sort of vengeance in mind. After bumping into an ex-college pal who tells him of a secret sexy ball for the well-heeled elite Bill ventures, noir like, into a sordid world of the New York night, uncovering clues to infiltrate the exclusive masquerade. Upon finding his way in, Bill discovers much and is himself discovered. Ejected and threatened to secrecy for the macabre ritualistic events he has witnessed, Bill enters a phase of psychological turmoil, forced to question the validity of what he saw, the truth of his own life, the potential threat that now hangs over him and his family.

This film seems a little overlooked in Kubrick’s back catalogue but to some it is his most intriguing, carrying with it all sorts of mystique. From the theme of masquerade and the sleazy encounters in the film to the sudden death of Kubrick before its completion and the rumoured 20 plus minutes that were cut never to be seen again, Eyes Wide Shut is a film imbued with an uncomfortable air of voyeuristic ennui. Laden with symbolism and esoteric curios, the central ideas and implied meanings are Kubrick at his multi-layered best.

Typically, Kubrick illuminated most of the film with natural lighting on set, which for much of the run time is provided by Christmas lights. It lends the film a slightly jarring contrast. Accompanied by a deeply unsettling piano motif, the synthetic light and elliptical motion of the camera combine to impart the dream-like atmosphere that Kubrick sought.

It is exemplary of his style, dense with meanings below its surface for the analytical observer to unravel and interpret, so this summary barely scratches the surface! It is a genre-straddling masterpiece, even if not his absolute best work. There is more here than most filmmakers could achieve across an entire career, a spooky, seedy, erotic thriller that is at times almost horror wrapped in a disturbed fever dream. Perfect for a cosy, December night on the couch!

Brazil (Terry Gilliam, 1985)

If the macabre and murky is your thing then absurdist satire Brazil ticks the box, albeit with its tongue in cheek by comparison to Eyes Wide Shut. Taking George Orwell’s 1984 as its blueprint we follow the fate and fortune of Sam Lowry, a low-level functionary of the ‘Ministry of Information’. Designated ambiguously as ‘somewhere in the twentieth century’, this is a surreal take on dystopian fiction. Filled with clunky, cartoonish machinery, the world is festooned with air ducts and metallic-looking tubes and recalls the more darkly comic moments of Gilliam’s Monty Python days.

From the smash and grab of the opening scene that breaks the Christmas idyll of the wrongly identified Buttle family to the oversized peak caps of the ‘Central Services’ engineers, the tone is a sort of pantomime barbarism, everything ramped up to 11. Choosing leering and tilted camera angles and an industrial-looking production design, Gilliam’s world evokes that of Fritz Lang’s Metropolis.

Lowry himself, painted as something of a misfit from the start, even reflects this idea in his dreams — a recurring scenario in which he saves a damsel in distress. He is pictured flying like a graceful metallic Icarus over fields and hills, one time punctured by brutish skyscrapers that sprout from the earth. The real world by contrast is button-down and shackled in place by paperwork, an integral theme. Indeed, when the Buttle ‘clerical error’ is discovered Sam sets on course to rectify the paperwork — in person. Here, to his amazement, he encounters Jill Layton, literally the woman of his dreams.

This is my favourite Terry Gilliam movie and it is his most celebrated. It surmises his zany absurdism, his grandiose yet strangely visceral production values and his humour, which is skilfully combined into a succinct satire of bureaucracy and consumerism. It is no coincidence that Christmas plays out as a backdrop to all of this. Garish in its depictions of the shallow (Sam’s mother who is obsessed with plastic surgery provides that iconic horrific image of a bulldog-clipped stretched face), this is the one time Python animator at his finest.

Within all of it is a pervading sense of Gilliam’s love for his craft too. The world is fastidiously rendered and, as many have said, Kafka-esque as much as it references Orwell’s dystopia. Having co-written the script with playwright Tom Stoppard and previous collaborator Charles McKeown, Brazil is brought together by Gilliam in fine fashion and no doubt benefited greatly from this particular writing team. This film is a must-see at any time of year but is an even greater gift during the festive season.

Trading Places (John Landis, 1983)

Firmly planting a foot in the comedy camp with this entry. With its status as Christmas movie never disputed, Trading Places stands up as a classic of Landis’ career. It was an aligning of the stars in the case of Eddie Murphy and Dan Aykroyd (originally destined to be another Richard Pryor and Gene Wilder romp) and their performances here are razor sharp. The themes of the story remain as relevant as ever, despite a few moments not ageing well (Jamie Lee Curtis is found gratuitously denuding a number of times and Aykroyd blacking-up and doing a cod-Jamaican accent is wince-worthy). However, the chemistry of the main cast is on point here and the overarching message is one of breaking down harmful stereotypes not reinforcing them.

Tis the season and Louis Winthorpe (Aykroyd) is living his best life as an upper-class commodities broker, running the firm for the brothers Randolph and Mortimer Duke in laudable fashion. Mortimer is obsessed with the idea of nature versus nurture and insists that environment maketh the man. His brother disagrees and so after a chance encounter with lowly street hustler Billy Ray Valentine (Murphy), a wager is struck: they will engineer it so that Billy Ray and Louis find their situations reversed and when Louis turns to crime out of desperation, despite his breeding, the point will be proved.

A far-fetched and madcap second act ensues, swapping the two lives. Louis befriends prostitute Ophelia (Lee Curtis) and enlists her help in exchange for a fee once normality is restored. One drunk and desperate framing attempt later however and Louis has proved Mortimer correct. The brothers settle their one-dollar bet but plan to return Billy Ray to the street and freeze out the hapless Louis for good, unbeknownst that Billy Ray is in earshot of the whole scheme. Time for revenge!

The final act of the film ties together a number of plot threads in a fever pitch of comic fortitude and epic shenanigans allowing the ensemble to really shine. The scene in the train is a great synthesis of material and performance showing why Landis had so many hits during this period of his career. He allows the talent to really shine and the film rattles along to its conclusion with abandon, delivering laughs throughout and solid performances from the peripheral cast as much as main trio. As referenced, there are moments of political incorrectness that have not stood the test of time, but it would be remiss to allow a couple of moments to undermine what constitutes a frivolous yet clever classic comedy. Besides, the overall message on stereotypes is one of breaking down long-held harmful assumptions. This is worth the watch to see the core cast do some of the best work of their careers — and of course to have laugh or two over the festive period!

Edward Scissorhands (Tim Burton, 1990)

Tim Burton is no stranger to the Christmas movie and as you might expect, convention is not something that tends to feature. Batman Returns and A Nightmare Before Christmas are two films that incorporate a festive theme and both show his quirky approach to storytelling. However, it is the hyperreal imagination and bittersweet heart of Edward Scissorhands that stands out. Without doubt the most successful pairing of Depp and Burton, here the director pays homage to the B-Movies he so loves and forefronts his preoccupation with Gothic fairy tale. Edward Scissorhands is part Frankenstein and part Stepford Wives: the pastel colours of the suburbia depicted are a pastiche of 1950’s America, whilst Edward’s home (perched atop a darkly craggy outcrop) is an eerie abode reminiscent of The Addam’s Family residence.

The story follows the eponymous character who lives alone in a dilapidated mansion. Upon an emboldened visit from local Avon lady Peg (Dianne Wiest) he is discovered and taken in. Like a lost orphan, Edward enters a world as alien to him as he is to it. At first, he is an attractively different distraction from their bored lives, a novelty that is fawned over, particularly when his skill with those scissored hands is revealed. Yet, this is a shallow and cruel world and socially maladapted Edward is innocently drawn into traps and situations that spell his downfall. He is once again the threatening monster and is run out of town back to his house on the hill.

While the location evokes a kind of daydream feel of languid California perfection, all picket fences and lawn sprinklers, the exaggerated nature of the place makes it clear from the outset that this is not quite a utopia. Burton uses this to remind us of a central theme: hypocrisy and facade.

There is a quasi comic book tone in the film and Depp as the titular misfit puts in a performance that continually walks the line of comic and sorrowful. It is well worthy of all the praise it receives as he managed to convey humour, innocence, sadness and awkwardness in equal measure with virtually no dialogue throughout. Whilst all of this helps to reinforce the issues that Burton is concerned with (belonging, otherness, falsehood) the true heart of the film is the chemistry between Depp and Winona Ryder (playing Peg’s daughter Kim). From the moment their eyes first meet all of these themes combine.

Love, innocence and purity are the real current running through the movie, and with this the kitsch is transcended and becomes something more substantial and magical. The score of this film demonstrates again the powerful partnership of Tim Burton and Danny Elfman, but the beauty and the emotional impact are elevated with the evocative musical themes in a manner they have rarely captured again. The combination of the main theme and Kim dancing in the ‘snow’ created by Edward’s frenetic ice sculpting embodies everything that is spellbinding about this movie.

It is frequently referred to as Burton’s masterpiece and his most personal film. Edward can easily be seen as a version of himself, from the mad mop of unruly black hair to the eccentric evocation of isolation and otherness, even the casting of Vincent Price as Edward’s creator, the inventor cum father figure. The production design is his most exemplary (also borrowing from German Expressionism), from the gothic imagining of Edwards home, to the colourful fakery of the neighbourhood below and the topiary figures that come to dominate this landscape. This is one of those instances where the disparate elements combine into an idiosyncratic fairy tale aimed right at the heart — a target it doesn’t miss!

This list is certainly five of my very favourite alternative Christmas movies but as is the nature of such lists, it constantly morphs and evolves. This years The Green Knight might well make it onto a top ten now. Other honourable mentions might include but not be limited to The Long Kiss Goodnight, Gremlins, The Nightmare Before Christmas, Die Hard or Scrooged. Some of these may cross over into a more family-friendly list.

What are your favourite alternative festive flicks? What did I miss? Join the debate in the comments. Oh and Merry Christmas ya filthy animals!