Christmas Eve in Miller's Point

Christmas movies are a genre in themselves, with their own clichés, romantic ramblings and some little boy left at home alone. But rarely is such a film a painting of what Christmas nights are really like with the extended family. Is that any different in the endlessly charming Christmas Eve at Miller's Point by director Tyler Taormina, a member of the LA-based Omnes Films collective that puts vibes above story. The viewer is invited to house number 99 somewhere in Long Island for a Christmas party at the home of an Italo-American family, where cosy chaos runs rampant as four generations come together under one roof. Boomer dads smoke a cigarette just outside their mancave (or ‘smoking hole’ as one of the men calls it) and complain about their offspring: "It's what kids do now, they don't fight, they type." Tables are packed with food, children give dirty greens to each other and, later in the evening, old video cassettes full of memories surface. And when the presents are finally handed out, it is the ideal time for the youth to escape the family festivities and indulge in a joyride.

Without a significant plot - except for the narrative thread about the sale of the parental home - Taormina's hypnotic film mills through recognisable or bizarre situations with at their heart a mother-daughter relationship. Scenes of the family's noisy get-together, with a notable role for Martin Scorsese's daughter Francesca, are mixed with the night of two patrol officers. What makes Christmas Eve at Miller's Point so irresistible is the palpable tinge of nostalgia, as if each image of cameraman Carson Lund was draped in a bath of sweet memories. As in his coming-of-age satire Ham on Rye (2019), Taormina provides his film with a dreamy, occasionally alienating atmosphere where surrealism is no stranger. Everything feels as realistic as it is artificial, making this atypical Christmas film feel like a delightfully unclassifiable American indie production that seems to stem from a bygone era. That Steven Spielberg's son also turns up as a marginal weirdo completes the party. Whether it's the last Christmas at house number 99 or not, this edition makes for a movie gift that could go under the Christmas tree in no time.