Christmas Films, The Dearly Departed, and the Etiquette of Festive Viewing
There are only three certainties in life: death, taxes, and the fact that It’s a Wonderful Life will appear somewhere on your television before Christmas Day. It might be playing in the early hours, dubbed into a language you do not speak, or introduced by someone you have never seen before, but it always finds a way back into the living room. Every year, like a familiar relative who turns up unannounced yet somehow improves the atmosphere, the film returns and settles in beside us.
Christmas films today stretch far beyond the small selection we grew up with. We now live in the age of endless streaming, where Netflix produces festive movies at an enthusiastic pace that borders on chaotic. You might sit down to watch a gentle classic and suddenly realise you are twenty minutes deep into a plot involving a medieval knight who time travels to Ohio and falls in love with a baker who works as a journalist on Thursdays. This, apparently, is what modern Christmas magic looks like.
In spite of the glitter and the occasional absurd storyline, Christmas films hold something far more meaningful. They offer comfort, familiarity, and the soft invitation to remember those who are no longer with us. The season has always held space for the dead, often in the gentlest and most beautiful ways.
It’s a Wonderful Life stands as the great tale of redemption, where Clarence the guardian angel arrives precisely when George Bailey loses hope. Another essential winter watch, especially in Irish homes, is The Dead. This exquisite film was directed by John Huston, stars his daughter Anjelica Huston, and is based on the iconic short story written by James Joyce. Set during a Twelfth Night gathering, it captures the quiet ache of memory, love, music, and the unspoken presence of the past. The closing lines, with Gabriel Conroy watching snow fall “upon all the living and the dead,” hold the softness of a prayer whispered into the night.
Good manners demand stillness during The Dead. No rustling of chocolate wrappers, no side conversations, and no checking phones. The film asks for attention, not through volume or spectacle, but through its quiet, spellbinding truth.
Once we emerge from that reflective world, the bright lights of modern festive viewing pull us back into merrier chaos. Netflix ensures a never-ending parade of Christmas romances, lost diaries, royal engagements, mistaken identities, Scottish castles, and snow that seems to fall exactly when someone decides to change their life. These films may follow familiar patterns, but that familiarity is precisely what we seek.
The classics continue to hold their well-deserved place. Home Alone reinforces the importance of checking that all children are present before heading to the airport. Elf proves that enthusiasm is charming when shared thoughtfully. Miracle on 34th Street adds a dose of wonder to the courtroom. The Holiday assures us that temporarily escaping to a stranger’s cottage may, on rare occasions, solve everything. The Muppet Christmas Carol remains the definitive guide to kindness, generosity, and good storytelling.
Yet the true magic of Christmas viewing happens in the room itself. It is the one time of year when the whole family ends up squashed together on the same sofa, snuggled under a giant duvet, sharing bits and bobs of chocolate and whatever snacks were left in the cupboard. Everyone is in their pyjamas. Someone always laughs too loudly, someone else cries at the parts they pretend do not affect them, and the room fills with that rare and lovely sense of easy togetherness. It feels warm, chaotic, familiar, and perfect. No one would have it any other way.
Christmas films remind us that the season holds space for joy, memory, longing, silliness and ritual. They draw us together, encourage us to rest, and give us permission to feel everything all at once. That, more than anything, is the etiquette of Christmas: to honour the past, cherish the present, and allow ourselves to be gathered into the comfort of a story well told.