Movie Review ~ Christmas Eve in Miller’s’ Point

Do you hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring tingle tingling too?  It’s lovely weather to watch Christmas movies together, and ’tis the season to look for new holiday favorites.  In addition to the squeaky-clean treats on the Hallmark Channel, Netflix has gotten into the game with some cheeky titles that will be ho-ho-ho-ing here soon.  As the proverbial cinematic stocking is overflowing with cozy Christmas films, Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point takes an unconventional detour from the familiar path of holiday storytelling. Director Tyler Thomas Taormina’s quasi-experimental approach to capturing a family’s annual Christmas gathering proves the movie’s most intriguing and greatest challenge.

Set during a sprawling Italian American family celebration on Long Island circa 2006, the film follows Emily (Matilda Fleming) through a loosely connected series of vignettes unfolding over Christmas Eve. Rather than adhering to traditional narrative structure, Taormina opts for a more atmospheric experience, allowing his camera to casually float between characters, conversations, and quiet moments like the Ghost of Christmas Present out to get an earful. This artistic choice, which Taormina says was inspired by personal stylistic favorites like Monsieur Hulot’s Holiday and Mystery Train, reflects the filmmaker’s connection to the material – the film draws from fifty years of his family’s Christmas Eve traditions.

When this experimental approach works, it captures something genuine about the nature of family gatherings we can all relate to in one way or another: the overlapping conversations, the subtle tensions, and those rare moments of unexpected connection. Maria Dizzia (My Old Ass) delivers a standout performance as Kathleen, Matilda’s mother and a daughter herself who is returning home with her husband and children to celebrate the holiday with the family. Bringing layers of complexity to every scene she inhabits, Dizzia doesn’t need pages of dialogue to let us know there’s a disconnect between her and her mother (Mary Reistetter). A particularly memorable sequence late in the film featuring Laura Robards (granddaughter of two-time Oscar winner Jason) and Tony Savino crackles with raw authenticity, briefly elevating the film to the emotional heights it consistently seeks.

The production design deserves special praise for its attention to detail, creating a perfectly lived-in holiday environment. Cramped rooms filled with mismatched chairs, tables laden with home-cooked dishes, and decades’ worth of accumulated decorations craft an authentic backdrop that will feel familiar to anyone who’s experienced a large family gathering. These elements lend an immersive quality, transporting the viewer into the chaos of a bustling family gathering.  Don’t even get me started on the exquisitely realized, lovingly wrecked rec room basement, an easy place to shove the kids into, though it contains several damp rooms that will give them the shivers for years after when they think about it.

However, the film’s soundtrack proves more problematic, with frequent and jarring musical changes that disrupt the carefully crafted atmosphere rather than enhance it. One moment, we’re enveloped in warm, nostalgic sounds; the next, we’re jolted by a jarring shift to indie rock or electronic music. While this approach may have been intended to heighten the experience of a bustling household, it ultimately feels more like someone repeatedly scanning radio stations during a cross-country road trip – enjoyable in small doses, but ultimately fatiguing.

Unfortunately, the film’s commitment to meandering observation often results in sequences that test viewer patience. This becomes particularly evident during a third-act departure where Emily and Michelle (Francesca Scorsese, Martin’s daughter) break away from family obligations for a late-night adventure with local teenagers. What could have been an interesting contrast, dovetailing one type of family gathering with another, instead devolves into a monotonous series of automotive encounters with moon-faced teens that feel disconnected from the film’s earlier tone and themes.

I understand why Taormina has assembled a company of unfamiliar faces to fill out his sprawling cast. Still, a distinct difference in performance quality can shake you out of the film’s spirit quite quickly.  Dizzia and Ben Shenkman (The Trial of the Chicago 7), as her husband, are veteran stage actors and can handle the near improv-feel of the scenes (though, to my knowledge, this followed the script from Taormina and Eric Berger), but the younger actors, as well as a few random family members, feel like they’ve been plucked from the Long Island community theater.  Producer Michael Cera (Barbie) and Australian comedian Gregg Turkington (Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania) appear as policemen, silent but for some awkward musings near the film’s conclusion when, up until then, they’d been giving off major Cirque du Soleil clown vibes.  And since we have a Robards and a Scorcese, why not add a Spielberg?  Sawyer Spielberg (Steven’s son with Kate Capshaw) gets special billing for a role barely impacting the film.

Ultimately, Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point feels more like a personal scrapbook than a fully realized film. There’s admirable artistic ambition in Taormina’s intriguing, if not entirely successful, departure from seasonal conventions. While some will appreciate its quiet moments of authenticity and experimental structure, others may wish for more of the emotional payoff that the best holiday movies deliver.  To be fair, there is that one scene with Robards and Savino that knocked the socks off my feet, one of which had been tapping the ground impatiently, waiting for something to happen.  However, most of the film feels like you’ve heard a joke with no punchline at a party that’s gone on a bit too long.