A note about my history with Christmas romantic comedies: I’ve never really watched any of them. Why? Well, as I like to tell my friends, I can watch straight couples fall in love in humorous ways throughout the year – why would I care all that much if those romantic moments happen during the month of December? So, when I first heard about Happiest Season back in late 2019, I had a sneaking suspicion I would be breaking with tradition and checking it out. After all, it stars a list of some of my favorite actors, was co-written and directed by Clea DuVall, and is about a topic all to familiar to queer folk: Dealing with a partner who isn’t out to those close to them. With all of those things stacked in its favor, I knew I was the ideal audience for the film. And it turns out I was right – although I did have a couple of quibbles with the narrative that I’ll dive into in a moment. But, even though Happiest Season is a queer Christmas film, it’s not only aimed at a queer audience. While Happiest Season certainly has a lot to say to queer audiences (who I suspect will, on the whole, really enjoy it), it’s also a genuinely good, really funny film, full stop.
The premise of the film is pretty simple. Harper (Mackenzie Davis) and Abby (Kristen Stewart) are happily in love, living together in Pittsburgh. When Harper invites Abby home to meet her family for Christmas, Abby thinks this might just be the perfect chance to propose. However, while driving to Harper’s familial home, Harper drops a major bombshell: Her family has no idea she’s gay, so could Abby please pretend to be her straight friend for the entirety of the holiday? Naturally, chaos ensues once the couple arrive and attempt to spend five days pretending to be wholly platonic. It’s a bit like Meet the Parents, if Ben Stiller was meeting his closeted boyfriend’s family for the first time.
The film knows the story it wants to tell and accomplishes it with aplomb. Stewart is the perfect straight man, giving a subtle and nuanced performance. It’s never showy (with some of the heightened personalities surrounding her, you’ll be thankful that it isn’t), and from the smallest movements of Stewart’s face you feel the growing pain Abby experiences as she gets pushed more and more to the sideline as Harper’s plate fills up with family expectations and the lie regarding their relationship begins to feel more like an outright rejection of it. Davis makes the most of the screen time she’s given, although Harper lacks the development the story gives Abby, which is the one major flaw in the film.
The goal of Happiest Season is to get us to root for Abby and Harper to overcome their problems and live happily ever after. This is a romantic comedy, after all. However, the story fails to show us just why they work as a couple, which becomes a major hurdle for the story late in the game when we need to be pulling for them the most. In fact, I found myself genuinely wishing Abby might opt for the stable, fun, and seemingly drama free alternative suitor the film presents. Yes, the narrative pulls itself back from the brink at the last minute and reminds us that Abby and Harper love each other and have built a solid foundation in their relationship, but it could have saved itself far earlier by taking the time at the outset to really ground the central relationship. We’re shown precious little about their happy life together – outside of a opening credits montage charting the life of their relationship and two introductory scenes with the pair – so a couple of additional scenes showing their dynamic with their friends or showing us how comfortable they are with each other wouldn’t have gone amiss to making the audience root a tad more for them throughout the gauntlet they have to travel.
Similarly, the story could have shown us a bit more about who Harper is. Yes, our protagonist is Abby and we need to see the story unfold from her point of view for it to really work, but I felt disappointed I didn’t know what made Harper so wonderful that someone like Abby would fall for her. Again, this would have been remedied by giving us a bit more time with the couple prior to the start of the hi-jinks. We learn some things about Harper’s past and her relationship with her family throughout the film, but we don’t get to learn who Harper is without those influences. Instead, she’s a cypher of a character who morphs to become whomever those around her need her to be. Yes, this makes it easier for us to see the story unfold through Abby’s eyes, but it shortchanges both the character and Davis by failing to give Harper the nuances those around her are given.
Outside of those issues, there is a whole lot to love about the film. There isn’t a single weak link in the film’s impressive cast. Victor Garber and Mary Steenburgen play a bit against type as the less-than-welcoming parents to Harper. Daniel Levy is excellent as the slightly vapid, but fiercely loyal, BFF to Abby. Alison Brie’s Sloane, Harper’s Type A high achieving sister, is Annie Edison from Community on steroids. And Aubrey Plaza is the film’s standout supporting character as Riley, Harper’s ex-girlfriend, a calm port in a film dominated by characters with big personalities. For an actor who has risen to fame for playing quirky or full-on weird characters, Plaza’s range is really on display here where she plays a normal but still charming character that you can’t help but love.
But while the film is very much a comedy (and I certainly laughed out loud throughout – particularly whenever Mary Holland’s Jane was onscreen), DuVall and Holland (who co-wrote the film in addition to her scene-stealing turn as Harper’s baby sister) are careful not to let the laughs overshadow some of the film’s more serious notes – namely the often difficult process of coming out. Yes, most of queer film and television stories involve at least a semblance of the traditional coming out narrative, but they rarely address the nuances of the act itself in the balanced, smart, and sensitive manner in which Happiest Season does. After all, there’s no right way to tell one’s family that your gay – and there are a number of moving elements unique to each person’s individual family and personal needs. DuVall and Holland are careful not to turn the narrative into a criticism of those who haven’t yet had the courage (because the act of coming out, even for those who have super supportive support structures, is a courageous act) to take the step to come out, while also acknowledging that staying closeted can hurt more than just the individual unable to make that leap. It’s an important message that doesn’t feel too preachy.
So, if you’re looking for a genuinely funny, smart, and gay Christmas movie, Happiest Season certainly hits the mark. While I wish the story took the time to provide us more reasons to root for Harper and Abby, I absolutely enjoyed the journey.
The Happiest Season premieres on Hulu on November 25, 2020.
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