Hans Brinker
Hans Brinker
Cast: Robert Askwith, Eleanor Parker, Richard Basehart, Cyril Ritchard, John Gregson
Credits: Director: Robert Scheerer; Walt Disney; 1969
This Disney film has always been a Christmas mainstay in our household. The story concerns Hans Brinker (Robin Askwith) and his family. His father has been comatose since an accident at work and the family has no money. They are barely able to survive with the jobs they can manage while attending school. Hans and his sister Gretel (Roberta Torey) enter a skating contest hoping to pay back a doctor who has helped restore their father to normal. A wonderful family film that will have young and old mesmerized.
Has Anybody Seen My Gal
Cast: Piper Laurie, Rock Hudson, Charles Coburn, Lynn Bari
Credits: Director: Douglas Sirk; Producer: Ted Richmond; Writer: Joseph Hoffman; Based on a Story by Eleanor H. Porter; Universal; 1952
Coburn stars as a millionaire who wants to leave his fortune to the family of the girl who turned him down to marry a bookkeeper. If she hadn’t turned him down he wouldn’t have made his fortune. He moves in with the family as a boarder and observes how they handle his anonymous gift of $100,000. Of course, the money causes them grief, but things work out during the Christmas season when the family lose all their money and Piper Laurie gets out of her engagement with a spoiled playboy and goes back to her true love, Hudson. The family moves back to their old house, having learned money doesn’t buy happiness.
Hating Her
Cast: Johnny Knoxville, Bridget Moynahan, Steve Zahn, Billy Crudup, Selma Blair, Blythe Danner
Credits: Director: Thomas Bezucha; Writer: Quay Hayes; Idiom Films, 2003
Studio publicity states: “A man brings his ice-queen girlfriend home for Christmas to meet his eccentric family. Overwhelmed by the hostile reception, the girlfriend begs her sister to join her for emotional support, only to trigger more problems.” With this all-star cast, we expect this comedy/love story to be a fun addition to our yearly holiday viewing.
He Sees You When You’re Sleeping
Cast: Cameron Bancroft, Erika Eleniak, Greg Evigan, Udo Kier
Credits: Director: David Winning; Writer: Carl Binder; Based on the Novel by Mary Higgins Clark; Televison, 2002
A selfish stockbroker dies in an accident and must reunite a family to secure his place in heaven.
Heidi
Cast: Shirley Temple, Jean Hersholt, Arthur Treacher, Helen Westley, Pauline Moore
Credits: Producer: Raymond Griffith; Director: Allan Dwan; Writers: Walter Ferris and Julien Josephson (Based on the Novel by Johanna Spyri); Fox; 1937
Our favorite version of the classic children’s story is, without a doubt, the Shirley Temple version. Shirley stars as Heidi, who is forced to live with her reclusive grandfather (Hersholt) in the Swiss Alps. She begins to crack his gruff exterior when she is taken away by a mean aunt, who sells her as a servant. Heidi goes to live with a wealthy family whose daughter Klara (Maracia Mae Jones) can’t walk. During Christmas Grandfather walks to the town to find Heidi. He misses her coming out of church and is picked up by the local police. Eventually, the two are reunited. A warm and touching film that will enchant children of all ages.
Heidi has been filmed several times including a 1954 Swiss version starring Elsbeth Sigmund and Heinrich Gretler, and a 1968 Austrian version starring Eva Maria Singhammer, Gustav Knuth and Gertraud Mittermayr. Another 1968 version, written by Earl Hamner, Jr., starred Jennifer Edwards, Michael Redgrave, Maximilian Schell and Jean Simmons. In 1993 a Walt Disney Productions version starred Jason Robards, Jane Seymour, and Patricia Neal with Noley Thornton as Heidi.
Hell’s Heroes
Cast: Charles Bickford, Raymond Hatton, Fred Kohler, Fritzi Ridgeway
Credits: Producer: Carl Laemmle; Director: William Wyler; Writer: Tom Reed (Based on Peter B. Kyne’s The Three Godfathers); Universal; 1930
While most Christmas films revolve around cheerful characters, Santa Claus and homes filled with presents, not many touch upon the religious significance of the holiday. A notable exception is Three Godfathers, a touching story of three outlaws and their quest to save a tiny baby. Drawing upon the story of the Three Wise Men, the film’s scripters created an emotional tribute to baby Jesus and the holiest of Christian holidays.
Three Godfathers, based on a story by Peter B. Kyne, was first filmed as a silent by Universal in 1916 and starred Harry Carey, Sr. The
story would again be adapted in 1919 by Universal with the title of Marked Men, once more starring Carey. That version would be directed by up-and-coming director John Ford (billed as Jack Ford in the credits). Another rendition, Hell’s Heroes, would follow in 1929. Again from Universal, this version starred Charles Bickford as cold-hearted outlaw Bob Sangster and was directed by William Wyler-another up-and-coming director who would go on to helm such cinematic masterpieces as Mrs. Miniver, Jezebel, The Best Years of Our Lives and Roman Holiday. With a running time of 65 minutes, the film wastes little time on niceties. The three outlaws in this version are mean, dirty and unattractive. Bob enters the saloon in New Jerusalem and flirts with saloon girl Carmelita (Maria Alba), asking her to sing. She is only too happy to oblige; but when he grabs another girl, Carmelita is enraged and engages the girl in a catfight as the men all cheer heartily and Bob laughs out loud. Bob uses this diversion to meet up with his partners to rob the bank. After robbing the bank and killing the cashier, they evade the posse by riding through a dust storm. They survive but their horses are gone. Water is getting low, and they confidently head toward the next waterhole after finding the first one filled with poisoned water. As the outlaws proceed on foot, they hear moans ahead. Bob investigates and finds a covered wagon with a woman (Fritzi Ridgeway) inside. He and Bill (Fred Kohler) argue over the woman, Bob telling him, “I seen her first.” It is quite obvious he plans to rape the woman, but after crawling into the wagon, he finds she is pregnant and gives her some water. Meanwhile Bill and Barbwire (Raymond Hatton) find the waterhole next to the wagon has gone dry. Bill in disgust notes, “She’ll stay dry till I get religion.”
Bob convinces Bill to help deliver the baby while he and Barbwire wait outside. Bill approaches and tells them the woman wants to see all three of them. “Will you three good men save my baby?” They all agree, but only Bill and Barbwire plan to keep the promise. “Take him to his daddy in New Jerusalem. Frank Edwards. You’ll find him at the bank. He’s cashier.” The three men look at each other guiltily; they know he is the man they gunned down. The tiny baby is held up so his mother can have a last look at him. A dirty hand covers most of the infant. “You’ll be in New Jerusalem for Christmas with your daddy and three godfathers.” The woman then dies.
Bob agrees to accompany them to the outskirts of town. The three struggle onward through the cruel desert. Barbwire, shot in the arm during the hold-up, is the first to go. He refuses to take any water from the child and orders the men to leave him. He shoots himself lying at the base of a cactus which is shaped like a giant cross. When they stop for the night, Bill gives the baby the last of the milk they had found in the wagon. He forms a little shelter for the child by putting a blanket over two upright rifles. The little shelter bears a striking resemblance to the manger of the Christ child. When Bob wakes the next morning, he finds a note on the baby.
“Dear Bob Im makin you a Xmas present. Thar ain’t enuf water for the 3 of us so Im goin out in the desert to see a feller. So long Bill.”
At this point we feel that old waterhole by the wagon has surely burst forth, for the hardened Bill has found God.
Bob tries to leave the little boy, but can’t. He staggers toward New Jerusalem with the child in his arms. When they come to the contaminated waterhole, he drinks deeply, hoping he will have enough time to reach the town. “Come on little falla, we got to drift fast if we’re gonna make it.”
It is Christmas morning and the good people of New Jerusalem attend church services. A large tree adorns the church and the congregation lifts their voices to “Silent Night.” The song can be heard as Bob stumbles toward the church, passing the bank where the baby’s father was killed and Bob’s fateful journey began. As the words, “With the dawn of redeeming grace” are heard, Bob stumbles toward the church and enters. He gets halfway up the aisle before falling to his knees and then to his side, the baby safe in his arms. The child is removed as “Amen” is sung. The three godfathers have indeed redeemed themselves. This rendering is often overshadowed by the other remade versions with bigger-name casts, but unlike other films remade many times over, it is difficult to find a clunker in any version of Three Godfathers.
Here Comes Santa Claus
Cast: Karen Cheryl, Armand Meffre, Emeric Chapuis, Little Alexia, Jeanne Hervlale
Credits: Produced/Directed/Written/Photographed by Christian Gion; Lapaca Productions, 1984
This French film is tough going. Little Simon only wants his parents to be home for Christmas, but they are being held captive in Africa. He and his little friend Elodie manage to get on a plane and find Santa in Lapland. Santa settles them in and with a good fairy goes to rescue Simon’s parents. Santa and the fairy are captured, but the local children release them. They arrive back home to find Simon and Elodie have been snared by a child-eating ogre. Santa and the fairy again come to the rescue and return the children safely home. Lovely scenery, but often the shots are used for filler in this rather dull film. The producers obviously had some budget, for scenes were shot in Finland and Senegal as well as France. This dubbed film will probably be of little interest to most audiences.
Hobo’s Christmas
Cast: Barnard Hughes, Gerald McRaney, Wendy Crewson, William Hickey
Credits: Producer: Paul Freeman; Director: Will Mackenzie; Writers: Joe Byrne and Jeb Rosebrook; Phoenix Entertainment; Television, 1987
A man who gave up his family and friends to be a hobo returns home for Christmas 25 years later.
Holiday Affair
Cast: Robert Mitchum, Janet Leigh, Griff Barnett, Wendell Corey, Gordon Gebert
Credits: Producer/Director: Don Hartman; Writer: Isobel Lennart (Based on “Christmas Gift” by John D. Weaver); RKO; 1949
RKO cashed in on the holiday season with this charming love story featuring a stellar cast consisting of Robert Mitchum, Janet Leigh and Wendell Corey.
Connie Ennis (Janet Leigh) and her young son Timmy (Gordon Gebert) are preparing for Christmas. A war widow, Connie is quite happy living with her memories and raising her young son in his father’s image. She is still deeply wounded by her husband’s death and, like practical mothers in poorer families, doesn’t want Timmy to ask for anything too special for Christmas-wanting him never to be disappointed.
Connie faces the rush of holiday shopping as a comparison shopper, seeking out products, purchasing them for her store and returning them the next day. Her problems begin when she buys an electric train from happy-go-lucky salesclerk Steve Mason (Robert Mitchum) who reluctantly pulls himself away from entertaining a group of children to wait on Connie. She takes the train home and Timmy sneaks a peek, delighted with his soon-to-be Christmas present. But his mother rains on his parade when she tells him it was just for work and the train must go back. She returns the train the next day. Steve had her pegged as a spy and is supposed to call security, but can’t bring himself to do so. Instead of Connie getting fired, Steve ends up unemployed. He and Connie wind up having lunch in Central Park where, in typical movie time, they learn all about each in two hours. She learns he takes any job available to buy into a shipbuilding company in California, and he learns she is afraid of changing her life, for better or worse. They spend the rest of the afternoon shopping for Connie’s job, but get separated-Steve carrying many of her packages.
Steve shows up at Connie’s apartment that evening, which doesn’t make her long-suffering boyfriend Carl (Wendell Corey) very happy. Suddenly, after meeting Steve (who proceeds to analyze her), she agrees to marry Carl. Of course we know this isn’t going to happen. Christmas morning Timmy finds a wonderful present outside the front door-the marvelous train set. Through a series of romantic misadventures including Connie having to go to the police station Christmas Day and trying to convince a delightfully befuddled Police Lieutenant (Henry Morgan) that Steve is not a crook but really a good guy, Carl realizes he deserves to have a girl who loves him, and Connie realizes she should marry someone she truly loves, not Carl. Things seem like they will all work out, but Steve is having none of it-he wants a woman who will chase him.
Things end happily on New Year’s Eve as Steve and Connie get together and Carl gets on with his life.
The film features fine performances, nicely paced direction and a nice but non-intrusive score by RKO regular Roy Webb. Janet Leigh does a fine job as Connie, a tired, confused single mother. Robert Mitchum displays a charm often absent from his more frightening turns in films such as Cape Fear and Night of the Hunter. His Steve Mason is a charmer who could melt any woman with those bedroom eyes, his enjoyment of kids and his easygoing attitude. Wendell Corey, as poor old boyfriend Carl, elicits our sympathy without raising our ire. He’s a nice guy, and we’re happy he finally realizes he deserves someone to love him completely. Gordon Gebert is a cutie as Timmy. One of his best scenes is when he takes his precious train back to the store so he can give Steve, who is still unemployed, his money back.
Variety’s November 16, 1949 review noted: “Holiday Affair is a warm Christmas offering. It concerns itself charmingly with the antics of humans during the Yuletide, developing a lot of rich comedy drama in doing so.” They also note: “Hartman’s production guidance is as strong as his direction.” Unfortunately Hartman’s direction failed to save the picture from a weak reception. Cinemania notes: “The picture was a box-office disaster, and as a result RKO canceled director Hartman’s contract.” Hartman would only direct four films including Every Girl Should Be Married (1948), It Had to Be You (1947) and Mr. Imperium (1951), but had a successful career as a screenwriter penning scripts for Hope and Crosby and Danny Kaye among others.
Holiday Affair captures the spirit of Hollywood’s love/hate relationships so popular with audiences. The middle class lifestyle of the Ennis family is easy to relate to for the average viewer. There are no professionally decorated Christmas trees in this film. A much more real holiday is pictured-the hustle and bustle of holiday shoppers, a beautifully scraggly family Christmas tree, lovely falling snow and a happy ending. What more could you ask for?
The film (based on the story “Christmas Gift” by John D. Weaver) was remade for television in 1996 starring Cynthia Gibb.
Holiday Inn
Cast: Bing Crosby, Fred Astaire, Marjorie Reynolds, Virginia Dale, Walter Abel
Credits: Producer/Director: Mark Sandrich; Writers: Claude Binyon and Elmer Rice (Based on an Idea by Irving Berlin); Paramount; 1942
“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas...”
Truer words were never written as Irving Berlin turned his well-stocked song trunk into an everlasting piece of film history with his construction of Holiday Inn.
Laurence Bergreen, in his biography of Irving Berlin, As Thousands Cheer, remarks Berlin had been trying for nearly 20 years to mount a show based on a lazy entertainer who opens a county inn only for the holidays. As war clouds gathered, Berlin felt Americans would once again turn to family holidays for comfort.
When Berlin finished penning “White Christmas” he rushed to his office and told his transcriber, “I want you to take down a song I wrote over the weekend. Not only is it the best song I ever wrote, it’s the best song anybody ever wrote,” and who can argue? Bing Crosby introduced the song on his December 25, 1941 Kraft Music Hall radio show on NBC. The film would be released in August of 1942.
Paramount and Berlin agreed to terms and production on the film began.
December 24. A trio is finishing their run at the Midnight Club. Snow is falling as Ted Hanover (Fred Astaire) happily exits a cab and brushes snow from the placard with the trio’s faces: Hanover, Hardy and Dixon.
Jim Hardy (Bing Crosby) happily enters the dressing room of Lila Dixon (Virginia Dale), his Christmas Eve bride-to-be. He’s planning on their being married and retiring to his newly purchased farm in Connecticut. Unfortunately she doesn’t seem happy to see him. Jim leaves and an equally happy Ted enters and kisses Lila asking, “Did you tell him?” Lila replies, “...he gets a look.” “He’s always had that look. It doesn’t mean anything emotionally. It has something to do with his liver... You don’t want to give up your career and live on a farm?” he says. To which Lila, in a neat double entendre replies, “He’s already bought the farm.”
They decide to break their news to Jim after the show. The opening musical number “I’ll Capture Your Heart” will neatly lay out the film’s plot in a few short minutes. Ted and Jim both chase Lila who eventually spies a better offer and wanders offstage. Crosby croons “I’ll win her heart with my singing,” while Astaire woos with taps, “just wait till I go into my dance.”
In the dressing room their clueless agent Danny Reid bursts in and tells Ted and Lila he has booked them for 15 weeks. Poor old Jim looks stunned, learning the couple plan to team up on stage as well as in matrimony.
Jim moves to his farm seeking a quiet and lazy life. But each succeeding holiday finds him working harder than ever. Thanksgiving day rolls around, the alarm clock screams its early morning wake up and Jim tosses it to the wall.
It’s December 24 once again. One year from the date Jim had been dumped by Lila. He sends a telegram to Ted, who is appearing with Lila at the Club Pierre in New York. “Got great idea while resting up in sanitarium. See you tonight. Merry Christmas. Jim.”
The retired farmer enters Ted’s dressing room bearing a gift he made himself, peach preserves (which happen to explode, covering the duo in peach slime). Danny, leaving for a trip down South, has forgotten to send orchids to Lila from Ted and rushes from the dressing room announcing he will send them from the airport. The girl in the flower shop, Linda Mason (Marjorie Reynolds), recognizes Danny and, after promising to deliver the flowers herself, tells him she wants to be in show business. He thinks he is giving her the brush off by handing her Jim’s card and telling her to go to the audition the next day. She delivers the flowers and unknowingly sits next to Jim during the floor show as Lila and Ted dance to “You’re So Easy to Dance With.” Jim and Linda introduce themselves doing a little bragging along the way; Linda tells Jim she is in show business and knows Ted quite well. Jim tells her Ted and Lila may not be big enough for his club. Linda flees when Ted and Lila come to the table.
The next day, Christmas Day, a lovely snow is falling as Linda arrives at the inn in a horse-drawn sleigh and asks the man fixing the roof for the owner. Jim looks down, recognizes Linda and promptly falls off the ladder onto Linda, both landing in the snow. They instantly hit it off, and he takes her inside to change and warm up by the fire. The photography is lovely in this film, the cinematographer making the most of falling snow, firelight and Christmas decorations.
Snow falls outside wreath-covered windows as Linda and Jim sit by a roaring fire. They move to the piano facing a lighted Christmas tree and Jim begins to play a song he wrote and promised to sing at the inn for Christmas, “White Christmas.” Linda joins Jim, singing the song for the first time on film.
What is it about this simple song that brings a flow of tears and an aching in the heart whenever it is heard? Does it remind us of our idyllic childhood Christmases past (“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know...”) or perhaps of a secret longing for the perfect Christmas dreamed of but never achieved (“may your days be merry and bright and may all your Christmases be white”).
Bergreen quotes Berlin (as saying when Crosby first went over the song), “When he read the song he just took his pipe out of his mouth and said to me: ‘You don’t have to worry about this one, Irving.’”
The song wasn’t an instant hit in America, but the soldiers overseas kept requesting it from Armed Forces Radio (which most probably influenced the Berlin spin-off film White Christmas).
After the emotional impact of Crosby’s rendition of “White Christmas” (the only one to listen to as far as I’m concerned), the film progresses to New Year’s Eve and the opening of Holiday Inn. Newspapers herald the event. In a tribute to one of Berlin’s more famous compositions, one announcements states: “Where to go to-Holiday Inn: Opens tonight. Don’t ask why! Just go and God Bless America!”
Back in New York Lila has dumped Ted for a Texas millionaire. Ted proceeds to get roaring drunk and head for Connecticut to commiserate with his old buddy Jim. As Ted drunkenly stumbles around the dance floor he bumps into Linda and they dance together-she doing her best to keep the jilted lover on his feet. The crowd loves it, thinking it is part of the show. Astaire is incredible dancing as a drunk-his brilliance as a dancer has never shown brighter than in this comical routine.
Danny overhears the crowd raving and decides Ted has found his new partner-unfortunately Ted can’t remember what she looked like and Danny only saw her from the back. Jim, who’s been burned before by Ted, pretends he doesn’t know who they are talking about. The remaining months of the year are taken up with a game of cat and mouse as Ted tries to get Linda to join him and Jim tries to keep her away from the Casanova. February he has her do their act in blackface for Washington’s birthday; on Valentine’s Day Ted discovers Linda and as they dance they twirl through a huge paper heart which tears-just as we know Jim’s heart is tearing; Easter Sunday Ted pretends to give up show business-moving into the inn to “help” Jim with the shows; July 4th finds Jim plotting to waylay Linda so two Hollywood producers won’t see her dance with Ted and offer them a contract. The plot backfires and Linda angrily leaves Jim and goes to Hollywood where filming begins on a story based on Jim’s dream, Holiday Inn.
Thanksgiving rolls around. Snow is falling and a closed sign hangs over the door of the inn. Jim sits alone at a table writing a letter to Linda, telling her the inn is doing great and offering congratulations on her engagement to Ted. Thankfully Mamie (Louise Beavers) gives Jim a good talking to, telling him to go to Hollywood and get Linda back.
Christmas Eve. Ted is nervously waiting for the final scene to be filmed so he and Linda can catch a plane and be married. A knock is heard at the door as Danny tells him, “Everything is all set and ready. What could possibly happen...” In strolls a smiling Jim.
Ted and Danny realize Jim could ruin all their plans and try to lock him in a closet but Jim turns the tables and manages to lock them in the dressing room. He heads for the set where the final number is being staged. He walks onto a perfectly built reproduction of the inn-complete with snow, fire and Christmas tree. He moves the tree closer to the piano and leaves his pipe on the top of the instrument.
The director leads Linda to an elaborate sleigh. “When you get on the set do your song. Let’s see, I think you have the mood. Your Hollywood success was empty. You’ve lost the only man you love. You know-the usual hokum. Just make me cry and you can get to that wedding.”
Linda feels those same sentiments as her character exits the sleigh and enters the inn. She slowly walks about the room before sitting down at the piano to sing “White Christmas” as a tear runs down her cheek. Linda picks up the pipe and taps the bells on the tree-the same way Jim did a year ago. Suddenly she hears whistling and then that unmistakable voice as Jim joins in the song. She runs to him and they embrace.
Ted and Danny arrive too late. “How could he get that far in five minutes?” Danny proclaims. Ted, realizing turnabout is fair play, replies, “The lady must have been willing.”
New Year’s Eve the inn is reopened, Ted is special guest and the trio sing a new version of “I’ll Capture Your Heart.” But Ted is not alone for long as Danny pushes Lila onto the stage for a reunion with her old partner. We’re sure a happy New Year will be had by one and all.
Holiday Inn is a sweet Christmas confection filled with delightful holiday songs sung by the golden-voiced Crosby and danced to by the suave Astaire. The Christmas scenes are filled with snow, decorated trees, glowing fireplaces and beribboned wreaths.
“White Christmas” would garner an Academy Award for Irving Berlin and become the most popular song of all time. Its record would only be broken in 1997 by Elton John’s Princess Diana tribute “Candle in the Wind.” But I have faith “White Christmas” will regain its position as the best-selling song of all time.
In true musical tradition, the audience doesn’t find the two-timing Ted or the too laid-back Jim annoying; we only appreciate their quirks that help bring us to the happy ending. Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire would once again compete for the same girl in another film based upon the work of Irving Berlin, 1946’s Blue Skies. Crosby would again sing that old Chestnut “White Christmas” in this Paramount film before going all the way and starring in what is often referred to as a remake of Holiday Inn, White Christmas.
Marjorie Reynolds had a varied film career beginning in the 1920s. She appeared as a bit player in Gone With the Wind, starred in the Fritz Lang classic noir Ministry of Fear and portrayed Vincent Price’s snobby wife in His Kind of Woman. Her last starring role was in the 1962 police drama The Silent Witness. Reynolds’ singing was dubbed by Martha Mears, a singer and actress who also provided singing for Rita Hayworth in Cover Girl and Veronica Lake in Star Spangled Rhythm.
Director Mark Sandrich was an old pro at musicals with directing credits for numerous RKO classics such as The Gay Divorcee, Follow the Fleet, Shall We Dance and Top Hat under his belt.
In its June 17, 1942 review Variety opined, “It’s a standout film. With those Berlin tunes, a strong story content and Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire for the marquee it’s an undeniable box-office parlay, a winner all the way.” Holiday Inn was actually the inspiration for the hotel chain of the same name.
I can’t think of a more comforting afternoon than curling up on a chilly December weekend with a bowl of hot popcorn and a double-feature of Holiday Inn and White Christmas-the perfect prescription for holiday blues.
The Holly and the Ivy
Cast: Ralph Richardson, Celia Johnson, Margaret Leighton, Denhold Elliott
Credits: Producer: Anatole de Grunwald; Director: George More O’Ferrall; Writers: Wynyard Browne and Anatole de Grunwald; London Films; 1954
Seldom seen today, 1953’s The Holly and The Ivy is a quaint, quiet British sitting room drama that is very character heavy. The setting occurs mostly in one family’s home during the holidays. The film comes off more as a stage play with its dysfunctional family trying to put on airs around its titular leader, the aging parson father, whom they believe they have to shelter from the harsh realities of the world. Fortunately, by Christmas morning, individual members of the family have grown closer together as the Christmas season becomes, once again, a cure for all ills.
Philosophically, this movie is the post-WWII era version of Home for the Holidays, perfectly capturing the joy and pain caused by the pressures which the Christmas holiday creates amidst members of any family. A British Lion Production filmed in England, the film is largely unseen outside its native shores.
The movie opens to a montage of Christmas music and storefronts decorated festively for the holidays. We see a hand shuffling through and mailing invitations, framed by falling snow, at the Wyndenham Post Office for the annual family Christmas celebration which will bring relatives together from all over the country.
We first meet the delightful 70-year-old Aunt Lydia (Margaret Halstan) speaking to a desk clerk at the hotel at which she lives. Always smiling, a distant look twinkling in her eyes, Aunt Lydia is seemingly well-to-do, having lived in hotels since the death of her husband 30 years earlier. “Will you be here for Christmas?” the clerk asks. Lydia responds that she typically goes to her sister’s for the holidays, but “she died in the spring,” so this year she is not sure of her plans. She admits, in these last 30 years, “I’ve never yet spent a hotel Christmas.” But the very letter she is opening is an invitation to her brother-in-law’s home for Christmas. She merrily announces, “No, I will not be here for Christmas!”
Another invitation reaches the hands of a distinguished, graying gentleman, gathered with his cohorts sharing a few drinks, at his club. When one of them asks Richard (Hugh Williams) to come share the holidays with him and his family, he matter-of-factly announces, “I always do the same thing at Christmas,” and that is visit with a cousin. When he is kidded about spending the holidays with a man of the cloth, Richard announces, “I nearly went into the church,” (the announcement is met with declarations of “what!” all around). He explains after he left school, his father said, “My boy, it’s time you made your mind up. What are you going to do, be a soldier or a clergyman?” Richard answered clergyman “and my father burst out laughing.” Thus, Richard joined the service and became a Colonel.
We next are introduced to another invite, Aunt Bridget (Maureen Delany), an old maid and grouch. When her neighbor asks her if she is going away for the holidays, she glares back, “I can’t leave!” looking at her cat who is sitting on the sofa. The neighbor kindly offers to care for the pet while Bridget is away. “I’m only next door, and you do so enjoy going to your brother’s for Christmas, don’t you?” Melting slightly, the hardened old woman is revealed to actually possess a softer interior than the cool exterior she projects. She admits her brother has a “beautiful place” and that she “is very fond of it.” Thus, she agrees to go.
Another invite is the young rogue, Michael Gregory (Denholm Elliott), serving time in military service, but who is caught sneaking back into the barracks after hours the night before his 48-hour Christmas leave begins. Since his leave is then immediately taken away, Michael requests a chance to see the Major where he turns on the sob story: His mother recently died last May, his father is a parson, so Christmas is very important, and his sister alone must now care for her father at the family home. Of course his Christmas leave is reinstated.
Next we cut to the Gregory home and meet daughter Jenny Gregory (Celia Johnson), who is caught between a rock and a hard place. She feels the obligation to care for her elderly father, Parson Martin Gregory (Ralph Richardson), who needs watching over. In her early 30s, she has at long last found love in the person of David Paterson (John Gregson), who is madly in love with her. However, the budding engineer’s job requires him to work and live in South America for five years. He wants to marry her so they can move down there together, and she deeply loves him. But there’s the obligation and love she feels for her father. “They want me to sail the end of January. I want you to leave with me, as my wife... What is between you and me is what the whole of mankind depends on.” With regret David announces that if she waits until he returns five years later, Jenny will be 36 years old, “that’s middle-aged!” David thinks Jenny’s father must be a nasty, self-possessed old man. But Jenny, with tears in her eyes, announces that her father wouldn’t let her stay if he knew about David. “That’s why he must never know,” she says, as the price of being a martyr lies heavy upon her heart. Unable to fully understand, David asks why doesn’t Jenny’s single sister watch the old man?
Not a very happy Christmas for all concerned.
As young Michael returns home and helps David decorate the house for the holiday, they each agree to decorate one side of the room with ivy. David opens up and divulges, “It’s a strange thing, but I find all these Christmas decorations peculiarly depressing.” To which Michael reveals, “I used to like it as a child, but now, I find it, well, as you say, depressing,” referring to Christmas. Michael announces his father won’t retire because of him, that he still has four more years of military service, and then his father wants him to attend Cambridge “and that costs money. I don’t want him to kill himself for me... besides, I’m not sure I want to go to Cambridge.”
Aunt Bridget arrives and complains about the ducks she saw in back of the house. “You don’t eat duck eggs, do you! They’re poison!” To which Jenny smiles and states, “We used them for years.”
Next Aunt Lydia arrives, singing the praises of how well Jenny cared for her recently departed sister and now her father. To which David begrudgingly answers, “A bit too wonderful... In my opinion, you can carry self-sacrifice a bit too far.” The intuitive Lydia immediately knows that David and Jenny are in love, and she is delighted. “I can see it all over you... This is right, absolutely right. You’re cut out for each other!” But Jenny asks the family to keep this secret, as the engagement hasn’t been announced yet; besides, she doesn’t wish her father to know.
Next Richard arrives and announces that his godchild Margaret (Jenny’s sister) will not be attending the festivities this year, because of a case of flu. But all the family appears to be able to read between the lines, for Margaret has a drinking problem.
Soon the parson Martin Gregory enters the living room, voicing concern that his daughter Margaret (Margaret Leighton) will not be attending. When the parson offers to phone her at home, Richard pulls the phone away, declaring she’s probably asleep now anyway.
Immediately, the parson is also revealed to be depressed by the Christmas holiday. “You know, since I was ordained, I must have written enough sermons to fill 150 books, and I doubt if anyone has paid the slightest attention to one of them.”
The optimist Lydia pipes in with words of encouragement: “I still remember one you preached, soon after my Philip died.” To which Martin quickly blows off her comment of heartfelt sentiment by politely rambling on, “I’m glad my dear. I’m glad.”
Margaret, finally deciding to attend the family celebration, arrives at the house, looks around, finds a bottle and pours herself a drink. Finishing the glass, she is surprised by members of the family, and the parson himself offers her a whisky, “We got it especially for you.” She politely turns him down but, in the spirit of the holidays, he still insists. Now raising her voice and almost shouting, she clearly responds, “Didn’t you hear me say no thank you!!!”
Lydia, once again a distant, far-away look in her eyes, beams forth, “I always thought Christmas is the best of all the festivals.” To which Martin dramatically answers her: “I hate it!!! Ah, the retail traders get ahold of it. It’s all eating and drinking and giving each other knickknacks.”
But the love-sick Jenny now chimes in. “But Christmas morning, there’s something about Christmas morning... Somehow I don’t know why I always know it’s Christmas morning. It’s as though during the night, when you’re asleep, something happened. You even expect the world to look as different as it feels... and you realize it’s Christmas everywhere.”
Martin again pulls the sentiment and good tidings down a rung by declaring: “Of all the sermons during the year, it’s the one on Christmas morning I dislike. Nobody wants to hear you, they’re all fidgeting in their pews, no time to tell them anything important.”
For Britain of 1953, The Holly and the Ivy must have felt like the anti-Christmas film of all time, but to the regular movie viewer, they probably saw a lot of the truth in this movie. The family leader past his prime, one daughter not able to live her life because of her responsibility to her father, another sister with a hidden past, now a drunk, two busy-body aunts, one an old grouch, the other living in la-la land. David, the frustrated lover who must leave the country in a matter of weeks, unable to convince his lady to pick up, marry him and leave. This was good soap-opera melodrama before the era of the soaps. But even though every image and sound emitting from the film reeked of Christmas and the holiday spirit (Christmas music, carolers, snow outside, holiday store fronts, holiday decorations, Christmas geese and turkeys, Christmas church services, etc.), all these images were undermined by the dysfunctionality of the human drama unfolding before our eyes. Unlike A Christmas Carol, produced in Britain two years earlier, in this more realistic universe the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future were not about to interfere and correct all the wrongs in one long wintry night.
The family’s problems worsen as Margaret and Jenny, doing dishes together, speak of both their problems. “Then it’s true, you are fed up (living at home with father)?” Margaret asks Jenny. “Well no, not exactly... it’s a bit limiting. It’s simple... I want to get married, that’s all.” Then she reveals how she has to watch over Daddy and couldn’t Margaret come home for a while (to relieve her of this responsibility, thus permitting her to marry the man of her dreams). To which Margaret quickly and firmly answers, “No, I’m sorry. That’s out of the question.” Jenny, taken slightly aback, comments, “You say it so immediately, like it’s done with. Life must be very easy for people like you... you have grown hard, haven’t you?” To which Margaret matter-of-factly answers, “Life does change people.” Jenny digs deeper, “Why must you always crackle like ice? What’s happened to make you feel all frozen over inside?”
But tragedy has hit Margaret’s life, and now, for the first time, she reveals the very factors which made her so hard. First of all, she fell in love with an American military man who was killed in the war. She was pregnant with his child (out of wedlock), and fearing the wrath of her father, she never told him. The child became sick and died at age four, a second tragedy in less than 10 years. Again, the secret must be held inside, it could not be shared with members of the family. Thus, all these pressures led to her dependency upon alcohol. Margaret reveals the reason she cannot come home again. “Father thinks of me as somebody I no longer am. If I came back to live with father, I would be pretending to be like I used to be.”
In fact, the entire family walks on egg shells around the parson, afraid to open up their lives and share their everyday problems with him, in fear that their perception of their father as rigid man of the cloth would never allow him to understand everyday family problems. In a quiet conversation after finishing speaking to Jenny, Margaret speaks to her godfather Richard, discovering that neither one of them even believes in God. Disappointed by her godfather’s lack of faith, Margaret cries that if he believes in something, perhaps she could believe in something too! Feeling unable to get closer to her father, she instead sees her godfather as a father figure and tries to find strength within him for herself. But Richard’s callousness and hardness toward the world only reinforces her own feelings.
After Michael and Margaret, supposedly escaping from the pressures of the family by going to the movies on Christmas Eve (but in reality both hitting the nearest pub and drinking themselves silly) return home and are caught by the parson (she fainting dead away in the living room), Martin implores Michael to tell the truth. To which he replies, “The truth! Can’t be told the truth, that’s the trouble. That’s the whole trouble-you can’t be told the truth” (by now shouting).
Martin, in a humbling position, attempts to connect with his own son. “Do you think that because I’m a parson I know nothing about life? Why do you think I was ordained in the first place? Do you think it was because I was so easily shocked I couldn’t face reality?”
To which Michael tries to explain, “As a parson you have a different attitude to life. You think a thing like this that happened to Margaret is wrong and expect everyone else to feel the same way... Don’t you see, how can parsons be expected to be told the truth if one cannot even talk to them as normal human beings?”
Dumbfounded by this perception, the parson states, “Well, if that’s the way I’ve made you all feel. Well, I’ve failed. I failed completely.” Martin realizes that his children have come to understand him by his religious stereotype and have never known the real man inside of the collar.
Meanwhile, Jenny reveals to Aunt Lydia that she and David will not marry, since Margaret is unable and unwilling to assume the role as keeper of father. “Strange how our lives always seem to have meaning because of somebody else. You understand Jenny, you’re in love.” She tells Jenny that if she’s in love with David, she mustn’t let anything stand in her way. Lydia uses Aunt Bridget as a metaphor. “Loneliness is a terrible thing... that’s why I am always so sorry for people like Bridget. She did what you’re thinking of doing... she stayed at home to look after your grandmother... Ever since your grandmother died, Bridget has been quite alone. If she died tomorrow, it wouldn’t make the slightest difference to anyone. That’s why it means so much for her to be here with all of you at Christmas.”
Emotionally affected by Michael’s truth (even if delivered at the height of his drunken state), the parson greets Margaret alone and tries to reconnect in a way he hasn’t been able to for years. “I’m sorry. I’ve been of no use to you at all... Do I seem the type of man who turns away from the sorrows of his own children? It’s no wonder my work has so little effect all these years. I’ve been misrepresenting religion all my life without knowing it. It’s too late now.” Margaret opens up and speaks of the disappointment of losing her lover during the war and then valiantly trying to raise their infant son Simon. When the baby got sick and died, her faith in life dried up and died too. Speaking of life, she admits, “It’s doomed to failure.” To which Martin responds, “That’s the trouble with your generation. You must see and touch before you believe... Can you touch the wind???” Martin reveals his confusion about the meaning of life originally that led him to be ordained, that he also had difficulty in finding truth and faith in something in which to believe.
On Christmas morning, everyone is dressing and preparing for church. Aunt Bridget, in her typical crusty manner, confronts Martin about Jenny falling in love with David. “So you’ve woken up to the truth at last... and I hope you’ve been telling Margaret where her duty lies...” When David enters the house moments later, she says to him: “If you’re half a man you’ll take Jenny out of this trouble quick.” David is confused by all these changing events occurring within the family-but one thing is certain, he wishes to marry Jenny.
A newly lucid Margaret, having helped her father leave for his Christmas sermon (surprisingly, in a very excited and pleased state of mind), now prepares to leave for church herself, telling David, “It’s Christmas, the family festival. We’ve all learned a thing or two about each other,” and with a smile she announces she’s coming back home to live with father. Abruptly, the scene changes as a few members of the family arrive at the church, “The End” superimposed over this entrance.
The Holly and the Ivy is more a character study than pure cinema, but the performances are marvelous. Ralph Richardson as the parson is first viewed doddering and tentative, oblivious to the problems within his own family, but by movie’s end, he has grown more compassionate and strong by virtue of connecting feelings of inadequacy as a reverend to his failings as a father. Once the parson can connect one-on-one with members of his family, he feels he can also connect with his parishioners and make those books of sermons meaningful. He grows excited because he is emotionally able to help heal the pain in his family, something he as a parson should have been able to do for some time. Celia Johnson as Jenny features the proper amount of stiff upper lip, duty to family and burning, internal desire. She also comes off too British stereotyped, but her smoldering desires hidden barely beneath the surface create a subtle intensity. Margaret Halstan as Aunt Lydia is perfect as the other-worldly, eccentric aunt whose sensitivity and empathy for those around her juxtapose to the cold and callous exteriors displayed by the members of her family. She intuitively recognizes the love that exists between Jenny and David, and she is not afraid to express her opinion that such love comes before responsibility (and in this family, service and responsibility always come first: Jenny and her duty to father, Aunt Bridget and her duty to her mother, Michael and his duty to country, Martin and his responsibility to his church) and that love must never be denied. As she delivers her lines, she is usually staring off in space, stating each phrase in slow motion, as if she were speaking directly to the zone between the living and the dead. But her words and feelings always speak the truth and manage to be the right thing to say at the time. In a life of tragedy, she manages to always keep optimistic and hopeful. Finally Margaret Leighton as Margaret is also a delight. Secretive, haunted, and boozy in her initial appearances, she transforms into aloof coldness and detachment, unable to approach her father about all the pain in her life. Only after opening up to Jenny, and then Michael opening up to his father, only then are Margaret and the parson able to come together and understand one another. By movie’s end, Margaret has transformed into a woman at peace with herself, excited at the prospect of returning home, everything out in the open at last.
Bittersweet, dysfunctional, and melodramatic, The Holly and the Ivy is not great cinema, but it does remind us of both the pain and the passion evoked by the wondrous season of Christmas. Bringing members of the family together, each of whom has some type of burden to bear, the strength of the family and the breaking down of barriers leads to not exactly Christmas bliss but rather to the healing warmth and potential for hope that crackles with every log placed on the Christmas fire.