Home Alone

Now here's a Christmas classic, and my favourite Christmas film to boot. I watched this every Christmas Eve since I was around seven. When I was eleven and I moved into my new house, a neighbour knocked on everyone's door to alert the locals that there had been some break-ins in nearby houses, one was only three doors down. Yes, I was excited. This was my time to bring out my inner Kevin McCallister. I genuinely believed that the reality of Home Alone could exist in our reality, and I argued with my Mum about how I could defend the house. Earlier than that, when I was around eight, I booby-trapped my bedroom on Christmas Eve in an effort to capture my Mum and Dad in the act and prove Santa wasn't real. I took inspiration from the Home Alone franchise to once and for all bring justice to kids everywhere and reveal the evil deception those pesky adults have been pulling over us since the dawn of time. Yes, I really loved this film. The past few years, I've kind of slacked in my Christmas Eve Home Alone viewing tradition. A combination of relationships, friendships, alcohol and hardships have took it away from me. But this year, for the first time in about three years, I watched it. Sure, it was the night before Christmas Eve, but I got to watch it with my eight-year-old nephew, which makes all the difference. It was just as good as I remembered it, but this time, I watched it with the additional eye of the screenwriter - having become so ingrained in screenwriting culture and the process of writing a screenplay, I'm much more in-tune with what a film's screenplay is doing and how it works. This, like Die Hard, is an almost-perfect film for displaying how a screenplay can elevate a film in more than just story. Home Alone makes great use of the Chekhov's Gun, everything is utilised later in the most unassuming of manners, and that makes for great fun as we, the viewers, unscramble Kevin's bizarre little mind with his interpretations of everything and how they nestle into his warped sense of home security. It's also interesting because its use of the three-act structure is rather unorthodox. Sure, it has the three acts, but it almost feels as if that third act, the act in which Kevin booby-traps and defends his house, seems so different to the rest of the film. It's ubiquitous to the Home Alone franchise now, but if we knew nothing of the film, it would be a huge surprise to see such a grand finale, especially with how violent it actually takes it. This works wonders, however, because it's almost as if the film is trying desperately not to release its load all at once as it travels through its runtime, but it gets to a certain point in which it can't maintain it anymore and boom, here we go. The film could've been a funny film about a boy living on his own for a few days, but this additional feature elevates it to the legendary status it sits at today, and so deserving too. My favourite thing in the entire film changed over the years, from the booby-trap finale to the sub-plot with Old Man Marley. When Kevin sees Marley outside on Christmas morning, hugging his son and grand-daughter whilst John Williams' beautiful score soars above, it's hard not to shed a tear. That's where the film ultimately lies - not in a kid eating junk food and watching rubbish, not in two bumbling burglars getting their comeuppance, but in its genuine love and adoration of family and how well it captures it. Remember that little scene in which Kevin spies for a moment on a family in their house through a window? That look of longing he has? It was short and sweet, but that's what makes Home Alone so perfect. One more thing - I often forget the story from Kevin's perspective. All my life, I read a line in a different way and it changed the film when I realised what he actually meant. When he first discovers his family has gone, he runs outside and see the cars in the garage. "The cars are still here, they didn't go to the airport?!" he shouts in shock, his mouth agape. I always thought he meant, "they didn't go to the airport, did they?" and his assumption for the rest of the film was, quite simply, that they went on holiday and forgot him. But this time, I realised what he actually meant. In his mind, he didn't realise that there was an airport shuttle picking his family up, so he genuinely believed throughout the film that his family had simply disappeared. This accounts for so much. Ever since I was a kid, I remember always thinking "stop smashing things Kevin, your family are going to come back!" but there was a point in which he genuinely never believed they would. Just a thought, and to be honest, I feel quite stupid for having never gotten that before now.