The holiday season is a challenging time for everyone, albeit for very different reasons – some find it overly commercial, whereas others feel burdened by the stress of planning festivities that are very rarely worth the time and effort, and which just prove to reiterate the fact that this period is reserved for capitalistic gain and consumerism more than the “reason for the season”, to put it into the tacky but relevant words that tend to be repeated constantly during this time. Yet, for many of us there is still some magic in Christmas, and while it isn’t true for absolutely everyone, there is still a sense of hope and cheer that emerges when celebrating this holiday. Family in particular proves to be the cornerstone of the season for many of us and usually is the source of both the most significant joys and harrowing challenges that come about during this time, which is essentially the foundation for Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point, in which director Tyler Thomas Taormina, in his third outing, tells the story of a family gathering under the same roof in the suburbs of what appears to be any ordinary American town, intent on celebrating Christmas surrounded by their loved ones, both biological and chosen, following the minute-to-minute events of group dedicated to making this a special celebration, but knowing that it quite possibly may be their last, particularly since it seems like the family matriarch (whose home serves as the festive meeting point) is on the precipice of being placed into a home, therefore removing the connective tissue that binds these dozens of people together. An astute and detailed portrait of an ordinary family and their closest cohorts coming together to celebrate the holiday, Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point is a fascinating piece of storytelling that is almost entirely defined by its underlying quirks, which indicates that the director is continuing to pursue his very distinct style that made both of his prior works extremely fascinating texts in their own way, and which only emphasises the unconventional nature of his vision, which has grown extensively in terms of scope, but which still feels extremely singular and unique, giving this film a sense of complexity that we would otherwise not encounter in a more orthodox approach to these themes and everything that they tend to represent.

Christmas is a common topic of discussion in a lot of cinema – in fact, it’s one of the few holidays that has managed to become a genre all on its own, with a very particular set of qualities usually being associated with these films. Yet, it still feels as if we haven’t found the single most definitive work that encapsulates the spirit of the festive season, and we likely never will, solely because of how differently everyone chooses the spend the day. Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point is designed as something of a suburban folktale, following a few hours in the life of this family who gather for yet another annual celebration, and find themselves navigating the same yearly experiences, including pleasantly meaningless small-talk (which is usually interspersed with more difficult discussions that take place behind closed doors as certain factions of the family divide to discuss more important matters), the awkwardness of making your way through a party that is essentially hostless, and ultimately just luxuriating the the splendour of the one day a year where excess isn’t just tolerated, it is actively encouraged. Taormina set out to make a film that is arguably more of an observational character study of a family than it is driven by a single coherent plot, and it is in this quality that we find some of the most curious details. Constructed as a mosaic of different personalities that are forced to share the same space, the film endeavours to be an intricately woven examination of the holiday season, as seen through a perspective that is somehow both very culturally specific (being yet another addition to the director’s ongoing project in which he explores suburban life) and universal, since many of us can relate to the sensations that anchor this film and give it so much incredible nuance and detail. In between all of this, the film becomes a poignant ode to family – Taormina finds ways to weave these different stories together, creating a sprawling portrait of a group of individuals who exist over several different generations, and who all have varying responses to the festivities that surround them, but are also bound by both familial commitments to be present and a sense of quiet affection for these overly-elaborate celebrations that are predictable and sometimes vaguely tacky, but yet still shown in such a way that we fixate on the comfort that comes in the expected and obvious details, which resonates widely and with such ferocious intensity, the kind of which we may not have been able to anticipate.

The nature of Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point is not to have a singular focus as far as a protagonist goes, but rather to be a vivid tapestry consisting of many different perspectives, with the film bouncing liberally between them all as a means to showcase that this is a true ensemble effort, rather than a case of the traditional trope of having a couple of central characters supported by a wider cast that exist on the periphery. Taormina has several strengths as a director, but the communal nature of his work has always felt like one of the most significant – he seamlessly weaves this eccentric cast of characters together in a way that feels genuinely quite invigorating and daring, and allows us to see the world through several perspectives. The core of the film is based around the fact that it is never resting on a single character for too long and therefore gives off the illusion of a family in which every individual is valuable and brings something to the discussion. Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point features arguably the director’s biggest cast to date, both in terms of the number of characters and the recognizable actors he manages to recruit to tell this story. Maria Dizzia and Ben Shenkman are the kinds of actors that appear in supporting roles in a number of productions and prove to always be welcome presences without usually portraying the leads. Here they are the parents of two unwieldy children who are experimenting with rebellion. Francesca Scorsese (in one of her first major film roles) is the embodiment of charm as an anxious young woman seeking some reprieve from the stress of Christmas festivities, which she finds in the form of an equally skittish doughnut shop worker, played beautifully (but all too briefly) by Elsie Fisher in the third act. Michael Cera and Gregg Turkington recur throughout the film as a pair of down-on-their-luck police officers that seem merely supplementary at the start but turn out to have a much more important role towards the end. Over two dozen actors play the central cast in this film, and Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point only benefits from their excellent work, finding nuance where many may not have thought to look.

Much like Ham on Rye and Happer’s Comet, the impression this film leaves is entirely dependent on the audience’s willingness to leap onto the director’s wavelength and understand that he is not interested in following conventions in the traditional sense, and is instead pursuing something far more esoteric and offbeat, which can make it quite polarizing. However, this doesn’t at all impact the fervent ingenuity of this film, which is as inventive as it is touching. Not many directors have been able to simultaneously craft works that are both moving and innovative in structure and storyline, but Taormina achieves it in spades throughout this delightfully irreverent film that mostly functions as a series of vignettes centred around these familial festivities. Anyone who has attended a big Christmas party (especially one populated by relatives) will recognize the chaos and confusion into which these characters are plunged – even just the opening scenes, where a family arrives at this non-descript suburban home, and is greeted by dozens of people, all of whom battle to be the loudest voice in the room, is extremely familiar, and something that the director goes out of his way to showcase as the core of the film, with so many moments in the film consisting of this kind of controlled chaos.  It would be a fair assessment to say that Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point isn’t entirely narrative-based, since while it does have a general plotline that moves coherently forward, it merely contextual and exists as a way to give some sense of consistency to a film that is essentially a series of moments in the lives of various characters, small vignettes that serve as standalone glimpses into their celebrations and how this day means something very different for each member of this film. It is through this that we find that the film is more focused on the atmosphere, which oscillates between hilariously upbeat and quite melancholy, creating a textured and unique experience that feels like it is genuinely making some hauntingly beautiful statements through weaving a simple but evocative image of the world and the people who reside within, as seen through a very compelling story of a single family gathering to spend time with one another. It’s complex without being self-important and is not afraid to lean into the more tender (and some may say overly sentimental) emotions when they are necessary.

Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point is a film that we can only describe as an acquired taste, but even those who are not able to connect with the style and structure will acknowledge how Taormina is a generational talent intent on marching to the beat of his drum, and who is willing to challenge conventions of the entire medium solely to redefine the borders of the contemporary cinematic landscape. I am personally not someone who has ever found too much resonance with his work until this point (and even in the case of this film, my reservations are still quite clear), but it is difficult to see him as anything other than one of the most unique and daring young filmmakers to have emerged in the past few years, and someone who I suspect will play a pivotal role in a new cinematic movement that is gradually beginning to show itself as not a fleeting trend, but rather something that is here to stay, informing many other likeminded filmmakers who have been consistent in staying true to their more offbeat roots, enriching the cinematic landscape as a result. Whether it was intended to be the final part in a series of suburban folktales, or simply something that stands on its own, Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point is a fascinating film – it may require us to suspend disbelief or simply just latch onto the atmospheric ramblings as we are taken on this journey, but it is a fundamentally very beautiful, evocative film based around the whimsical poetry of everyday life and all the challenges that accompany it as time progresses. It’s a beautiful, complex film filled with colourful personalities and an abundance of unique stylistic traits that aim to stir a very particular set of emotions in the viewer – but it is ultimately a fantastically moving, brilliantly compelling comedy filled to the brim with heart and humour, and which captures something both ethereal and recognizable, drawing us into this film and immersing us in the warmth and curiosity that we often define this particular time of the year.