The Holdovers

Given the state of things, it’s no surprise that Hollywood often turns to nihilism as an ideological framework. Some of the decade’s most-awarded films promise (or perhaps threaten) a world where nothing ever changes and no real difference can be made. And so it is that a movie like The Holdovers – one that clings so tenuously to hope for a better tomorrow – can feel almost radical in its empathy. With all due respect to anger, sometimes a little hope feels good, too.

After failing the son of a prominent alumnus, history teacher Paul Hunham (Giamatti) is forced to watch the students who remain at the all-male Barton Academy over winter break of 1970. And that’s just fine with Hunham; the bookish professor rarely leaves campus, and staying for the holidays will allow him to share a few words of encouragement with cook Mary Lamb (Randolph), whose son was recently killed in action. But when chronic underachiever Angus Tully (Sessa) is abandoned on campus, the three stragglers form an unlikely family bond.

There’s a beautiful alchemy to The Holdovers that can sometimes happen with simple stories. The script feels reminiscent of any number of millennial adolescent dramedies; think of films like Jeffrey Blitz’s Rocket Science – to pull one randomly from the corners of memory – that matter most to those who saw them at just the right age. But what elevates The Holdovers is the delicate balance between ideology and empathy. David Hemingson’s script teeters on the edge of anger about real-world injustice, but unlike so many modern movies that adopt the veneer of uncaring, this film chooses empathy, no matter how hard.

If Hunham were to let his isolation fester into misanthropy, we would understand – that’s a story we’ve seen before. If Lamb were to let her tragedies pull her into the darkness, that, too, might feel right onscreen. But Giamatti and Randolph are too talented to let these characters fade into convention. In their hands, The Holdovers is not a film about disaffected youth as much as it is a testament to choosing empathy as adults. Hunham and Lamb continue to show up in the face of a world that does not seem to want them, and it is their willingness to still care in the face of societal indifference that makes The Holdovers such a spellbinding film.

Payne could also have directed the film with a heavier hand – underscoring the unrest of the decade with protests about the Vietnam War – but here, too, is another demonstration of restraint. The neighborhoods surrounding Barton Academy are shrines to generational wealth, even as the school itself cuts corners on Christmas decorations to stretch its budget. But while the Seventies interiors may spark memories of suburban America, the nation's fractured nature creeps around the edges of the screen, reflected in how each character holds that tension. This tension is for us to observe, not hold ourselves.

The Holdovers is a warm blanket on a sad day – an unconventional Christmas movie that finds reasons to move forward even in the hardest of times. And while students of the dramedy may anticipate its every narrative turn, there’s something magical about a film that encourages empathy, especially when it asks much of us.