Forget the festive feel-good factor, this year's best Christmas film defies traditional notions of holiday cheer. Pillion, released last week, is a game-changer in the genre, boldly subverting the expected merriment and instead embracing a more nuanced and thought-provoking approach.
Writer-director Harry Lighton's breakout feature, based on Adam Mars-Jones's novel Box Hill, tells the story of Ray, a non-conforming biker, and Colin, his relationship partner. The film takes place against the backdrop of Christmas in suburban Bromley, where Ray invites Colin to join him for a date on Christmas Day.
Here, Lighton skillfully conjures a sense of unease and discomfort, offsetting the festive atmosphere with an air of tension and uncertainty. This deliberate jarring of holiday cheer is precisely what makes Pillion such a refreshing departure from the saccharine sentimentality that often characterizes other Christmas films.
By refusing to sentimentalize or gloss over the complexities of human relationships, Lighton's film serves as a scathing critique of heteronormative expectations and domesticity. The result is a work that feels both intellectually stimulating and deeply unsettling – an ideal marriage of aesthetic and intellectual terrain.
Compared to more traditional Christmas fare like Love Actually or The Holiday, Pillion stands out for its willingness to push boundaries and challenge expectations. These films are content to tick off the usual festive boxes – rom-coms, witty banter, and overwrought sentimentality – but Lighton's film takes a different approach.
In doing so, it reminds us that Christmas can be many things: a time of love and connection, yes, but also a complex web of emotions, desires, and contradictions. By refusing to shy away from the messy realities of human experience, Pillion delivers a nuanced and thought-provoking portrayal of Christmas that feels both deeply unsettling and profoundly moving.
Ultimately, this year's best Christmas film is one that demands to be seen on its own terms, unencumbered by expectations or preconceptions. Pillion is that film – a work of art that will leave you questioning everything you thought you knew about the holiday season and our place within it.
Writer-director Harry Lighton's breakout feature, based on Adam Mars-Jones's novel Box Hill, tells the story of Ray, a non-conforming biker, and Colin, his relationship partner. The film takes place against the backdrop of Christmas in suburban Bromley, where Ray invites Colin to join him for a date on Christmas Day.
Here, Lighton skillfully conjures a sense of unease and discomfort, offsetting the festive atmosphere with an air of tension and uncertainty. This deliberate jarring of holiday cheer is precisely what makes Pillion such a refreshing departure from the saccharine sentimentality that often characterizes other Christmas films.
By refusing to sentimentalize or gloss over the complexities of human relationships, Lighton's film serves as a scathing critique of heteronormative expectations and domesticity. The result is a work that feels both intellectually stimulating and deeply unsettling – an ideal marriage of aesthetic and intellectual terrain.
Compared to more traditional Christmas fare like Love Actually or The Holiday, Pillion stands out for its willingness to push boundaries and challenge expectations. These films are content to tick off the usual festive boxes – rom-coms, witty banter, and overwrought sentimentality – but Lighton's film takes a different approach.
In doing so, it reminds us that Christmas can be many things: a time of love and connection, yes, but also a complex web of emotions, desires, and contradictions. By refusing to shy away from the messy realities of human experience, Pillion delivers a nuanced and thought-provoking portrayal of Christmas that feels both deeply unsettling and profoundly moving.
Ultimately, this year's best Christmas film is one that demands to be seen on its own terms, unencumbered by expectations or preconceptions. Pillion is that film – a work of art that will leave you questioning everything you thought you knew about the holiday season and our place within it.