Let’s not beat around the bush: Christmas films generally aren’t very good.
Not good in a proper sense anyway, but they’re enjoyable in the same way that cheesy pop is enjoyable; you know it’s not brilliant, but it’s just a bit of fun. Miracle On 34th Street, however, is a Christmas classic with so many gaping plot holes that the script probably resembles a piece of Swiss cheese that someone’s tried to use as a bulletproof vest. The film is typically American and there are slightly Christian “if y’all ain’t got faith you ain’t got nuthin’” undertones to it all. It’s obviously aimed at kids more so than jaded Vision reviewers, but it’s still delightfully nonsensical.
The film starts with a bearded, smiling man named Kriss Kringle wandering around New York. You might immediately assume that this bloke is Santa, but in case you’re unsure the film spends the next two hours confirming that YES, HE IS THE REAL LIFE SANTA. It’s never quite explained what Santa is doing in New York- presumably the elves got sick of having him around the workshop and decided to send him off on some sort of sabbatical.
After chastising the parade’s Santa mascot for drinking in public (Kringle would obviously not enjoy York on a Thursday night), he takes the man’s place, smiling and waving at all the children. Cut to two of the people in charge of the parade. The conversation goes roughly like this: “How many people are watching our parade?” says one of them. “Over a million!” says the other, gesturing to the 20-odd people stood next to them. Clearly, there was some kind of shortage of extras in the early 90’s. “Wow, that’s a lot,“ the first one replies, ignoring this obvious numerical discrepancy, “And that bloke we’ve got doing Santa’s quite good at that smiling and waving stuff, isn’t he? Shall we give him a job in our shop?” “I don’t see why not,” says the other, “I mean, he’s a very convincing Santa. Why, if I didn’t know better I’d say he’s THE REAL THING!” Subtle, this film is not.
Fast-forward an hour or so of twee shots of Santa being nice to people (bah, humbug), and the shop’s competitors have managed to get Kringle locked up in Visual Metaphor Mental Hospital, all grey walls and inadequate lighting. The film climaxes with a hilarious court case to prove whether or not Santa is real- hilarious simply because it’s all so poorly thought-out. “What is better,” asks the lawyer, “a lie which draws a smile, or a truth which draws a tear?” I can’t help but think that this guy could walk into a job in North Korea’s Propaganda Department.
But hey, it’s Christmas. Tis the season to be happy and cheerful, rather than over-analyse cheesy Christmas films. In many ways Miracle On 34th Street is the perfect Christmas film (although being the world’s best Christmas film is like being the world’s tallest dwarf). It’s a good film to get comfy with during the Yuletide season, but probably best left alone as soon as the January sales start.
Merry Christmas!