So, I finally sat down and watched A Christmas Story. Well, I guess it would be more accurate to say I finally sat down with the express intention to watch A Christmas Story in one continuous sitting. Without the distractions of wrapping presents or the extended-family-induced alcohol coma, I was able to actually appreciate the movie without it being beaten into my head every two hours courtesy of cable TV.
Directed by Bob Clark, the genius behind Porky’s and Baby Geniuses, the story centers around cute little Ralphie who wants nothing more for Christmas than a Red Ryder carbine-action 200-shot range model air rifle despite the numerous warnings of shooting an eye out. The treasured BB gun is merely the common thread that holds together the various segments about Ralphie, his slightly deranged parents, and the dreams and crushing realities of being a nine-year-old.
What always got lost in the barrage of the Christmas Story marathon is the perfect way this film captures what it is like to be a kid at that age. Even though you or I grew up decades detached from the 1940s setting, many of the unforgettable memories of that age seem to be universal. You have absurd fantasies, aloof parents, and maniacal bullies peppering the humdrum life of going to school, doing homework, and marveling at adults and the questionable things they do.
The fact that this movie is so highly regarded almost thirty years later is a testament to the source material from Jean Shepherd (who also narrates) and Clark’s ability to weave mostly unrelated plot points into the story. A Christmas Story is nothing without the flagpole dare, the dangers of ingesting soap (and causal child abuse), or the atrociously tacky lamp the Old Man wins as a Major Award. While each are funny on their own, the blending of these side stories makes the film all the more relevant as it is told through the eyes of a child.
The biggest asset to the film was the nuclear family: Darren McGavin as the Old Man, Melinda Dillon as Mrs. Parker, and Peter Billingsly as Ralphie. In performances that channel almost every mother and father in existence, Dillon and McGavin are able to flip from standard parental moments of yelling or chastising to glowing at the reaction to a gift or comforting after a rough day. Some of these more poignant moments I hadn’t previously picked up on but they go miles escalating this story beyond Christmas about the trials and comfort of family.
It is almost disconcerting that A Christmas Story is so ubiquitous, especially this time of year. Its overexposure leads to more focus on the commercial-worthy bits with the deranged department story Santa and the savage beating of Skut Farkus as opposed to the real heart of the story. At least now I can keep things in context when I undoubtedly see the entire movie in three minute segments over the next few weeks.
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