MasterChugs Theater: A Christmas Story
"You'll shoot your eye out." "Fa-ra-ra-ra-raaa, ra-ra-ra-ra." "Daddy's gonna kill Ralphie." "Ohhhh, fudge." The great thing about movies is that there's almost always at least one solid and totally quotable line from the movie that can be recognized by anyone at any given time. The norm for these, though, tends to be something along the lines of "a summer movie," such as Pirates of the Caribbean, Super Troopers and Army of Darkness ... but what happens when the movie is far from "a summer movie," but instead falls more along the lines of "holiday movie." Like, say, a Christmas themed movie. Why, some might even call the movie a "Christmas story" movie. Then there are others, like myself, that call A Christmas Story, directed by Bob Clark, a true phenomenon.
The movie is based on a nostalgic comic novel named In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash, by Jean Shepherd, the radio humorist, who also narrates it. He remembers the obvious things, like fights with the bullies at school, and getting into impenetrable discussions with younger kids who do not quite know what all the words mean. He remembers legendary schoolteachers and hiding in the cupboard under the sink and having fantasies of defending the family home with a BB gun. But he also remembers, warmly and with love, the foibles of parents.
The story fellows the adventures of a young boy set against the Christmas holiday in the 1940’s as he dreams of the perfect holiday gift. Ralphie Parker is like any other typical young boy in the 1940’s but there is something that does set him apart from the rest of the pack. His aspirations for an Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle, the one item that he believes to be the perfect Christmas present. Unfortunately for young Ralphie, he faces stern opposition from his mother who believes the toy will “shoot his eye out.” He receives no help from his father who is too busy holding off the Bumbus hounds or shouting at the furnace, so Ralphie seeks to find higher help for his cause, the big man himself: Santa Claus. But even this last splint of hope is dashed to pieces with those devastating words coming from the “jolly” fat man himself, “You’ll shoot your eye out, kid.” All hope seems lost for poor Ralphie but if only he knew what Christmas Day would bring! The plot for A Christmas Story is one of the most wonderful concepts ever attempted in a holiday feature film and what makes it so memorable is the fact that many elements, no matter how elaborated, can be related by one family or another in some point in their lives.
Luckily, Clark has the perfect cast to place the final glaze upon this holiday ham. As good as he was as Karl Kolchak in The Night Stalker movie and series, Darren McGavin is priceless as "the old man," patriarch of the Parker family and meanest furnace smashing SOB in all of Indiana. It is part of McGavin's genius that he can take what is a near cliché of antique man of the house mythology and make him both human and uproarious. In the less compelling role, Melinda Dillon gives a new definition of ditzy as the harried housewife and mother trying to balance a demanding husband and a couple of growing boys. She exudes forceful understanding, deceptive manipulation, and occasional cluelessness with a rich helping of heart that radiates maternal concern.
But the movie really belongs to the kids. From Peter Billingsley's gun nut Ralphie to Scott Schwartz's Flick or even Zack "Scott Farkas" Graves, Clark's kids have authenticity and acting chops to match. Never once do these children come across as modern actors trying to recapture the times. They feel right at home with the radio, the old toys, and simpler way of life. It's interesting to note that we hardly see the children interacting indoors. Yes, they go to school together and Randy and Ralphie share a couple of in-house tussles, but most all the fun, fights, and fellowship occurs on playground, back alleys, or city streets. This is another brilliant point in A Christmas Story, a subtle way of showing that the life of a child before television and video games was an exterior world of exploring and adventure, where the shortcut home from school could hold untold escapades.
That's what's great about A Christmas Story. It's a funny movie that does a direct job of explaining the life and time in which it is set, and yet never forgets that its ideals are equally modern and universal in nature. It's a movie about the gift of love, about parents trying hard to make their children safe and happy, and of kids learning to appreciate their youth before it is gone in a flash. This is not a yuletide Stand by Me or some manner of multi-cultural PC caroling crap. A Christmas Story is about the purity of the holiday, of a time when commercialism was in its place and human contact was the gift that kept on giving. That, and a badass piece of artillery, of course.
Despite, or perhaps because of, the oddities of Ralphie's family, A Christmas Story is a comfortable, homey movie. Sure, his dad, whom the adult Ralphie refers to as The Old Man, is a bit of kook: His religion is "Oldsmobile," and he "worked in profanity the way other artists worked in oil or clay," but Ralphie's memories are as affectionate as they could be, just as we love the people we love because of their idiosyncrasies, not in spite of them. And Ralphie's put-upon mother is probably one most of us could call our own. Sure, we laugh at A Christmas Story. But we laugh because we remember the agony of being a kid ... and are grateful that we survived.
The movie is based on a nostalgic comic novel named In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash, by Jean Shepherd, the radio humorist, who also narrates it. He remembers the obvious things, like fights with the bullies at school, and getting into impenetrable discussions with younger kids who do not quite know what all the words mean. He remembers legendary schoolteachers and hiding in the cupboard under the sink and having fantasies of defending the family home with a BB gun. But he also remembers, warmly and with love, the foibles of parents.
The story fellows the adventures of a young boy set against the Christmas holiday in the 1940’s as he dreams of the perfect holiday gift. Ralphie Parker is like any other typical young boy in the 1940’s but there is something that does set him apart from the rest of the pack. His aspirations for an Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle, the one item that he believes to be the perfect Christmas present. Unfortunately for young Ralphie, he faces stern opposition from his mother who believes the toy will “shoot his eye out.” He receives no help from his father who is too busy holding off the Bumbus hounds or shouting at the furnace, so Ralphie seeks to find higher help for his cause, the big man himself: Santa Claus. But even this last splint of hope is dashed to pieces with those devastating words coming from the “jolly” fat man himself, “You’ll shoot your eye out, kid.” All hope seems lost for poor Ralphie but if only he knew what Christmas Day would bring! The plot for A Christmas Story is one of the most wonderful concepts ever attempted in a holiday feature film and what makes it so memorable is the fact that many elements, no matter how elaborated, can be related by one family or another in some point in their lives.
Luckily, Clark has the perfect cast to place the final glaze upon this holiday ham. As good as he was as Karl Kolchak in The Night Stalker movie and series, Darren McGavin is priceless as "the old man," patriarch of the Parker family and meanest furnace smashing SOB in all of Indiana. It is part of McGavin's genius that he can take what is a near cliché of antique man of the house mythology and make him both human and uproarious. In the less compelling role, Melinda Dillon gives a new definition of ditzy as the harried housewife and mother trying to balance a demanding husband and a couple of growing boys. She exudes forceful understanding, deceptive manipulation, and occasional cluelessness with a rich helping of heart that radiates maternal concern.
But the movie really belongs to the kids. From Peter Billingsley's gun nut Ralphie to Scott Schwartz's Flick or even Zack "Scott Farkas" Graves, Clark's kids have authenticity and acting chops to match. Never once do these children come across as modern actors trying to recapture the times. They feel right at home with the radio, the old toys, and simpler way of life. It's interesting to note that we hardly see the children interacting indoors. Yes, they go to school together and Randy and Ralphie share a couple of in-house tussles, but most all the fun, fights, and fellowship occurs on playground, back alleys, or city streets. This is another brilliant point in A Christmas Story, a subtle way of showing that the life of a child before television and video games was an exterior world of exploring and adventure, where the shortcut home from school could hold untold escapades.
That's what's great about A Christmas Story. It's a funny movie that does a direct job of explaining the life and time in which it is set, and yet never forgets that its ideals are equally modern and universal in nature. It's a movie about the gift of love, about parents trying hard to make their children safe and happy, and of kids learning to appreciate their youth before it is gone in a flash. This is not a yuletide Stand by Me or some manner of multi-cultural PC caroling crap. A Christmas Story is about the purity of the holiday, of a time when commercialism was in its place and human contact was the gift that kept on giving. That, and a badass piece of artillery, of course.
Despite, or perhaps because of, the oddities of Ralphie's family, A Christmas Story is a comfortable, homey movie. Sure, his dad, whom the adult Ralphie refers to as The Old Man, is a bit of kook: His religion is "Oldsmobile," and he "worked in profanity the way other artists worked in oil or clay," but Ralphie's memories are as affectionate as they could be, just as we love the people we love because of their idiosyncrasies, not in spite of them. And Ralphie's put-upon mother is probably one most of us could call our own. Sure, we laugh at A Christmas Story. But we laugh because we remember the agony of being a kid ... and are grateful that we survived.
Labels: MasterChugs Theater
posted by Chris 'Chugs' Taylor at
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