By Jack Ford.

With so many Christmas films (turn to the Christmas24 channel and see for yourself), and a lot of them ultimately the same, the fleeting nature of the non-genre means a lot of them will pass us by before we can give them their fair dues – which could arguably the case with the 2004 Mike Mitchell comedy Surviving Christmas.

Released in late 2004, Surviving Christmas opened quietly to largely negative reviews, as was the standard for films starring Ben Affleck at the time. It was dismissed as a low comedy without charm, and before you decide it’s not worth reading any more about a forgotten film that was panned on release, just wait. The finer points of this festive comedy were potentially lost on those who initially dismissed it.

The film opens with a sequence of wholesome Christmas scenes you could put on a card, only for them all to start taking darker turns. For example, an old woman takes a roast turkey from the oven, and then puts her head in. The film could be summed up in this one juxtaposition: behind the sheen and purity of Christmas iconography there is a dark reality the season forces us to hide.

We soon meet the central character of the film, advertising executive Drew Latham (Affleck). He’s a man not moved by Christmas, so much so he has booked a trip to Fiji over the festive period for him and his girlfriend, Missy, to get away from it all. She’s outraged and insists they spend Christmas with family. When pushed, Drew is mysteriously reluctant to let her meet his family, which is the final straw for their relationship.

Drew’s vast and spacious apartment starts to feel more and more empty, and his isolation leads him back to his childhood home. It’s here he comes to terms with his problems with Christmas, and realises what he wants is to have the same warm, happy feeling he got from the holiday as a kid. He meets the current residents of the house, the Valcos, after patriarch Tom (James Gandolfini) mistakes him for a vandal and hits him on the head with a snow shovel. Instead of pressing charges, Drew asks if he can act as their son for Christmas. It’s a strange offer, but it comes with the promise of $250,000. The Valcos accept.

It quickly becomes apparent the Valcos are not the most festive family, after seeing how short-tempered and curmudgeonly Tom and his wife Christine (Catherine O’Hara) are, and it’s no surprise given the discovery that they are soon to divorce. Elsewhere, their teenage son Brian (Josh Zuckerman) has no time for family but plenty of time for his computer (you can probably guess what for), and elder daughter Alicia (Christina Appelgate) just finds the whole thing too weird.

Drew tries to get his newly-adopted family into the spirit by taking them Christmas shopping, decorating the house and making them dress in seasonal attire, much to the Valcos chagrin. Despite this, something’s still not working. No one’s feeling the cheer of Drew’s ideal Christmas. He steps up his effort by writing a script to be adhered to at all times, bringing in his elderly ‘Doo-Dah’ (or rather, a local actor he has paid to play Doo-Dah), even recreating a cherished childhood memory of Alicia.

Though he means well, Drew soon comes to realise all of this is artifice – he can bring the image of the perfect family Christmas to life, but with that does not come the feeling Christmas inspired in him, and in all of us, as kids. That same feeling won’t come to him again because he’s not a kid anymore, and he can’t have the perfect Christmas he wants because it’s something that doesn’t exist. It’s the same for all of us as well.

Surviving Christmas is not that cynical and downbeat, though. Instead, it takes a more realistic view of how the commercialized idea of the perfect Christmas and the expectations that come with it are unobtainable. It’s a reminder that the images of happy families we see in every shop window, catalogue and commercial at the end of the year are there just to get us to consume.

Advertisers tug at our heartstrings in the hope that doing so will also open our wallets, to get us all to think we can have that too once we have all the right components. Drew works in advertising, he knows its all a trick, but the idea even penetrates his mind. The increased tension he causes in the Valco household is the film’s surprisingly subtle way of saying that advertising is ruining Christmas, with the final shot serving as a reminder that it can be whatever you make of it. If you would be happy to spend Christmas with friends in a pancake house, then that’s fine.

As for the film itself, it’s aware of itself enough to know the scenario it’s presenting is an unusual one and never acts like the events of the film could ever happen in real life. In doing so, it takes away the discomfort we would feel seeing a grown man paying a family to take him in as their son, and gives us more room to laugh at the absurdity. It’s nowhere near perfect – there are some subplots that range from obvious to inexplicable – but it’s a fine farce with a sound message behind it.

More than a decade on, Surviving Christmas deserves another look. For anyone seeking an alternative Christmas film, one that is free of sentimentality, speaks to the part of them that feels that materialism and comemrcialisation has robbed the holiday of any meaning, all while making them laugh of course, look no further.

Long ago, in a galaxy far far away… Immortal words that shall grace our screens once more with Rian Johnson’s highly anticipated Star Wars Episode VIII – The Last Jedi. Like most of you, I grew up with Star Wars. I remember my first viewing of a Star Wars film, The Return of the Jedi – or as I called it back then, teddy bears fight big robots – and my first cinema experience of the colossal franchise, which sadly was The Phantom Menace, don’t hold it against me. I owned all the toys, the hand-me-downs and the fresh off the market ones. I even played some of the videogames – I sometimes wonder how many childhood hours the likes of Star Wars Battlefront had taken from me.

As I have grown, however, I have found myself simultaneously loving this series and despising it. It’s usually at times like this – the release of another instalment to a franchise – that you start to look back at the series before. This time I think I should do something about it. Rank them, maybe…

Despite my history with the series, I’ve never considered myself a fan of it. I watched the films but ignored the shows like Clone Wars and Rebels. I played the videogames, but never considered them canon to the story. The novels and comics I outright avoided like the plague. Some may say that this disadvantages me for the series – I certainly have friends who have said as much – but I see it as allowing me to view them as films of their own. Because of this, only the films matter.

I will be going through the cinematic releases only; so those hoping to see the Ewok films, or the infamous Star Wars Holiday Special listed, I am sorry to be unable to grant this wish. Lucas himself being ashamed of them gives me reason to avoid them at all costs anyway.

Lets’ go through them…

By Marie Brammah.

Prior to witnessing a character’s actions or hearing their dialogue, their appearance can give us an insight into many aspects of who they are. Susan’s initial costume consists of a black, woollen turtleneck jumper, underneath a black blazer.

Susan’s recurrent choice of black – as seen in the previous scene – correlates with her persona. Black is symbolic of strength and power, which is appropriate considering Susan’s success and position within the LA art world. This colour is also representative of detachment and emptiness, which allows us to recognise Susan’s alienation from her emotions and truly connecting with those around her. This notion of emptiness links with Susan’s lacking of reassurance in her identity, as well as the lack of love present in her current relationships. Furthermore, the colour black focuses a reflection upon the negative aspects of one’s life such as pain and loss, which is highly fitting for this character, as well as the themes of the story. The sleek and stylish cut of her clothing alongside the rich fabrics indicate her success and consequential wealth. A high neck, as oppose to a low-cut/open neckline connects with Susan’s detachment. Susan is not physically being revealing and vulnerable, just as her emotions are not on show for all to see. This style of neckline is also connotes entrapment and pressure/suffocation. Susan is trapped in a loveless and unhappy marriage, and has been faced with pressure from those around her (e.g. her mother, Edward) throughout her life.

Throughout the film, Susan’s costumes tend to blend into the settings via the colours utilised. Perhaps this is simply to keep in line with the overall aesthetic style of the film, however it could be said that this choice is specifically fitting for Susan.

As we get to know Susan we develop an awareness of her confusion about her identity and purpose. Blending in with the setting, she does not signify any sense of individuality. It is as though her visual style is extracted and moulded by her surroundings – not from her own creativity within.

Isn’t this also true of her inner being? Doesn’t it seem as if her choices in life have been chosen for her by those around her? Is her identity also dictated and moulded by her surroundings?

The styling of Susan’s costumes are also key. We always see her tailored very sharply, everything neatly pressed, with no sense of messiness. This helps to develop a contrast between what she allows people to see on the outside and what is actually happening in the inside. Despite Susan being at conflict internally, she maintains an image of a confident and successful woman who always has it together.

This sense of conformity could also be indicated in the styling of her hair. In the flashbacks to her younger life her hair has natural waves, which contrasts the slick and kink-free hair we see in the present day. It seems as though Susan has denied her natural being and is conforming to the fashion (and pressure) around her. Or is this a further attempt to conceal the ‘messiness’ going on within?

Unlike Susan, Laura Hastings is dressed in blue – a blue denim shirt paired with darker blue jeans. There seems to be a great contrast in the styling of these two characters, which assists in the separation of reality and fiction within the film. Perhaps this also highlights the difference between the city life (of Susan) and the rural life (of Laura)? Maybe there is a suggestion here that the lives of Susan and Edward are incompatible? The colour blue can also be significant here, as it suggests purity and loyalty. Perhaps this is how Edward sees her? Or is it how he wishes she was?