Christmas Eve In Miller’s Point masterfully celebrates a fleeting holiday spirit
A spellbinding holiday tale conjures nostalgia that never veers toward cloying.
Photo: IFC Films
Intimate, disparate moments of an annual holiday tradition are artfully portrayed in director Tyler Taormina’s latest, the Long Island-set Christmas Eve In Miller’s Point. The audience ostensibly tags along to a chaotic yuletide party hosted by the matriarch of the Balsano family, which is attended by every conceivable far-flung relative. It’s impossible to keep track of everyone’s relation to one another—there are innumerable references to siblings, in-laws, cousins, and even those who’ve died—yet glimpses are offered into the characters’ unique relationship to the holiday, ranging from wistful to whimsical as the snowy evening unfolds.
Co-written by Taormina and Eric Berger (who also teamed up with the director to pen his previous features Ham On Rye and Happer’s Comet), the film features several recurring narrative fascinations for the duo: teenage ennui, suburban surrealism, and social alienation all crop up here, though Christmas Eve In Miller’s Point veers toward nostalgia-tinged naturalism as opposed to overtly dabbling in Taormina’s previous penchant for magical realism. Perhaps this is because seasonal touches—twinkling string lights, shimmering tinsel, sugary snowfall—imbue the film with an air of enchantment all its own. (Not to mention the children’s eager anticipation for Saint Nick to show up and shimmy down the chimney.)
Christmas Eve In Miller’s Point arrives at the Balsano family function alongside Kathleen (Maria Dizzia), her husband Lenny (Ben Shenkmen), moody teen daughter Emily (Matilda Fleming), and affable young son Andrew (Justin Longo). Hostess Antonia (Mary Reistetter), Kathleen’s mother, is in clear decline; her sentences are curt, her greetings absent of overt affection. Her attitude also likely has something to do with the not-so-secret quarrel that her children are involved in. Her son Matty (John Trischetti Jr.) serves as the family home’s current owner, though Antonia continues to reside there (a presence that is a strain on Matty’s own marriage). While the details of this property dispute—which dovetails with an ongoing conversation about putting Antonia in a nursing home—are never dissected in excruciating detail, the snippets on display will certainly cause viewers to reminisce on the pettiness that has colored their own familial squabbles.
If Antonia outwardly adores anyone, it’s her grandkids. She harbors an especially soft spot for Emily and her cousin Michelle (Francesca Scorsese), whose hair she gingerly strokes as overlapping conversations echo through the halls. As the film advances, the plot becomes predominantly fixated on the younger sect of the Balsano clan. The adults’ progressive inebriation provides the perfect cover for Emily and Michelle to sneak out and link up with their friends. Their escape entails a rowdy diner hang, scrounging for beer, and dumpster diving (accompanied by the film’s other legendary director spawn, Sawyer Spielberg), but the climax occurs when the teens gather in a snowy, open field—their cars all idling, headlights illuminating the falling snow—and gradually pair off. Inside their cozy vehicles, some hook up, others listen to music, while a few merely sit in silence.