My next festive franchise flick is a beloved classic in the states but pretty obscure here in the UK. I can remember answering a question about A Christmas Story in last year's office yuletide quiz and nobody else knew what the hell I was talking about. I do recall seeing Bob Clark's 1983 film on Sky TV way back in the early ‘90s but, unlike Tyler and Jordie of Road Trip for Ralphie, I can't say I fell in love with it. I guess it's like Scottish bagpipes, tartan, haggis and the Proclaimers - if you're brought up with this stuff, you maybe don't have much choice in liking certain things. I know that this one plays on American cable constantly, so it must just be one of those things.
Based on the humorous writings of author Jean Shepherd, this loose and rambling holiday tale focuses on little Ralphie (Peter Billingsley), a typical 1940s boy who dreams of getting a coveted 'Red Ryder' B.B. gun for Christma, when he's not dodging a terrifying school bully or squabbling with his dad. This one has less of a plot and more a series of mildly humorous vignettes showing us what Ralphie and his family get up to in the run-up to Christmas.
The film is alright, I guess, if twee by today's standards. Billingsley is great, pulling off a charming, likeable performance as this all-American 'every-kid'. Author Shepherd narrates as the grown-up Ralphie reminiscing about this one memorable if unremarkable yuletide and though it's overly sentimental at times, the voiceover mostly works.
The film does a decent job of capturing what it's like to be a ten-year-old kid at Christmas, trying your best to be good but only really because you desperately want that one perfect present. In this case, it's a hugely dangerous rifle he's after and, despite every sensible adult warning him "You'll shoot your damn eye out!", Ralphie dares to dream big.
It's a meandering tale that I suppose does feel quite like real life in that sense, as a whole bunch of random stuff happens in the run-up to the big day. A pal gets his tongue frozen to a lamp post, Ralphie's dad (Darren McGavin) wins a hideous, lady's leg-shaped lamp, Ralphie fights the bully, then nearly blows everything by uttering the 'F' word in front of his dad. None of this is overly hilarious but it's all pleasant enough and told through a down-to-earth, sugar-coated, nostalgic lens.
I enjoy that Ralphie's story doesn't quite have the fairytale happy ending you'd normally expect. Lots of things go wrong and Christmas ends up not living up to anyone's expectations, yet everyone sucks it up and gets on with it. It's not the end of the world. It's a lot like real life.
Clark's film is peppered with a few corny dream sequences that don't do anything for me but are probably an apt representation of how the mind of a '40s kid would work - his teacher is a witch; soap makes you blind; using the B.B. gun to defend the house from stripey-suited bandits. It's inventive but I keep feeling like modern children would find these parts a bit naff. I can see why Americans weaned on this stuff might hold A Christmas Story so dear to their hearts as it's a sweet tale, well told but, for me, just lacks something extra special to make it a bona fide classic. Maybe I missed something.
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