8:14 (90)

I think the main reason why I love the film Home For the Holidays so much is because it doesn’t really have much of a resolution.


I’ve been watching portions of it lately and I realize that, when you really think about it, not much really happens other than a group of people gather in one spot, they realize they actually don’t really like each other all that much, and that their lack-of-functionality is really a larger symptom of the darkness of ambiguity of adult life being a fucking stupid place.  By the end of the film, all the characters realize the moments they have are the moments they have, and that dwelling on the things that might or could be is energy that could be better-spent immersed in a moment that you’d miss if don’t shut the fuck up.

There’s this montage at the end of the film of memories each character holds in their heart.  My favorite is the one the crazy aunt has in which she kisses her sister’s husband–while it’s not an “innocent” moment per se, the knowledge that she was able to have something she never could have, if only for a moment, is the only concrete thing in her crazy brain.  Perhaps that resonates a little too similarly to the frequency on which I find myself, but fuck it–it’s a shit thing to feel, but worthy of examination, and illustrative of something that needs mentioning: sometimes, a moment of understanding can feel like it’s worth a lifetime of meaninglessness, and that the simple act of connecting with someone else, not even in a complete or comprehensive way, just having a moment with someone else is the only goddamn thing that can make sense in a dark, ambiguous, apathetic world.

Time’s up.


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