Every year around this time, a discussion usually arises as to what makes a film a Christmas movie. Folks have varying criteria for qualification on this point, and contention usually arises. I’m not about to open that can of worms. I am, however, going to begin this year’s Yuletide entry on what constitutes a good Christmas film.
Quite simply, a good Christmas movie contains one or more of those genuine “lump in the throat” moments, especially at the end. Miracle on 34th Street and It’s a Wonderful Life are the gold standard for this. But there are such moments even in widely disparate films which touch on the holiday, such as White Christmas and Three Godfathers. It’s these moments which embody the sentiment and magic of the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.
Unfortunately, it’s a quality which seems to have been forgotten in Christmas movies of the last forty years or so. The Good Mrs. Benson and I spend every Christmas at my brother’s home, and every year, someone suggests watching A Christmas Story. I always roll my eyes, but put up with it, in order to keep harmony. A Christmas Story is nothing more than a sardonic view of a boyhood Christmas. I’ll allow that it occasionally has a humourous sequence, but it is completely lacking in the sentimental gratification that a holiday film should bring. (And, aye, my hatches are battened down, for all of you who will write in, telling me I’m wrong and insisting that A Christmas Story is a wonderful holiday film. In an Abominable Snow Monster’s eye, it is.)
A Christmas Story seemed to initiate a trend. Christmas movies since have been filled with over-the-top antics and juvenile humour. If there is an attempt at sentimentality, it’s forced and awkward. I think part of the problem is that the producers are actively striving to make a holiday classic. The best ones, Miracle on 34th Street and It’s a Wonderful Life, weren’t intended to be treasured Christmas films---they just became so in the hearts of the public.
I apply the same standard to Christmas specials on television. At the end of the Rankin-Bass Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, when the Misfit Toys feel they’ve been forgotten again, whose eyes don’t water up a little when the bells of Santa’s sleigh ring overhead? (Incidentally, there’s a Christmas Deck Log Entry in that final scene which I’ll get around to doing some year.) Most of the subsequent TV specials try too hard and come off as artificial.
The one Christmas medium in which I’m more liberal---getting closer to the topic of this entry, now---is the music of the holiday season. There, I’m wide open as to what I enjoy. There are joyful Christmas songs (“Deck the Halls”, “Here We Come A-Caroling”, “Sleigh Ride”). There are upbeat Christmas songs (the 1959 version of “Home for the Holidays” by Perry Como is the absolute best). There are big-band renditions of Christmas songs (“Frosty the Snowman” by the Glenn Miller Orchestra will knock your socks off). There are inspirational Christmas songs (“Do You Hear What I Hear?”). And, of course, there are the religious-based traditional Christmas carols (“Adeste Fideles”, by Nat King Cole, is responsible for the only Latin I speak). I love them all.
But the point of this Deck Log Entry is one of the sentimental Christmas songs. In fact, probably the most sentimental of them all. Likely, you’ll agree. I’m speaking of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”. That one is guaranteed to bring that lump-in-the-throat moment that I’ve been talking about.
First, a little history. “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” was written in 1944 by Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane. The pair had been hired by MGM to compose songs for the movie Meet Me in St. Louis, starring Judy Garland. The film relates a year in the life of the Smith family, just before the opening of the 1904 World’s Fair. The plot is divided into seasonal vignettes. The Smiths’ comfortable, upper-middle-class life in St. Louis is upended in the winter segment, when the father announces that his company has promoted him. The position, however, requires that he relocate, and the family will move to New York City after Christmas.
This leads to the film’s most notable scene, when Judy Garland’s character, Esther, consoles her younger sister (played by seven-year-old Margaret O’Brien), miserable over being uprooted from the only home she has ever known. Garland sings “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” to the tearful O’Brien, bringing an endearing moment of tenderness in the otherwise-cheerful movie. As Gary and Susan Svehla related in their book, It’s Christmas Time at the Movies (Midnight Marquee Press, Inc., 1998):
Although the lyrics of the song are not sad, Garland’s rendition of this holiday treasure rarely leaves a dry eye in the house. The song and Judy Garland brilliantly manage to compress all the confusing feelings of Christmas into a few short stanzas---the love, happiness, sadness, and longing for perfection.
The poignancy of that scene infects the song itself. It’s impossible to hear it without feeling the same mix of emotions. But you already know this. What you might not know, however, is this song started out as a darker, rather bleak version of Christmastime.
As Martin and Blane understood it, the scene in which Judy Garland and Margaret O’Brien were despondent at the prospect of leaving their cherished home was an exceptionally sad one. It’s also significant that by November, 1944, America had already endured almost three years of World War II. Though Martin insisted that the war wasn’t a deliberate factor in the song’s composition, it’s hard to believe that the gold-star families across the country, facing empty chairs at the Christmas table, didn’t have an unconscious influence on it.
As a result, the lyrics originally written for “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” were suitably downcast . . .
Pretty gloomy, eh? Especially the part about “it may be your last”.
About a week before the scene was to be shot, Judy Garland went over the song during a rehearsal---and was horrified. The lyrics were too depressing. She approached Hugh Martin and asked him to lighten up the tone. “If I sing that to Margaret O'Brien,” she argued, “people are going to be streaming out of the theater. It's going to make me sound like a monster, to sing that to this sweet little girl.”
The film’s director (and Garland’s future husband) Vincente Minnelli lobbied on Judy’s behalf, weighing in with, “Look, the movie is about hope and dreams, and there’s got to be some hope in this song.”
Still, Martin resisted the pressure to do a re-write---until a close friend, Tom Drake, who happened to be the film’s male lead, persuaded him that such a dark take on Christmas would hurt his reputation as a songwriter.
So, Martin relented and revised the original lyrics to be more optimistic. This was the version that was filmed (changes in red) . . .
Despite giving in to the request for more hopeful lyrics, Hugh Martin wouldn't change the line "Until then, we’ll have to muddle through, somehow”. It was a powerful line, and the most memorable one. And whether the song was motivated, in part, by the war or not, it should be noted that when Judy Garland sang it at the Hollywood Canteen, the tough, battle-hardened servicemen were often moved to tears.
Yet, despite the enormous success of Meet Me in St. Louis, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” didn’t break out as a Christmas standard. It was looked upon as merely a beloved show tune from a popular musical. It didn’t become the signature holiday anthem it is to-day until it got another re-write---in 1957.
That’s when Frank Sinatra, whose languishing career had been revived by his appearance in the film From Here to Etermity (Columbia Pictures, 1953), got involved. In 1957, he was back at the top of the charts. That September would see the release of his first full-length Christmas album---A Jolly Christmas from Frank Sinatra. “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” was set to close out Side One. But Sinatra was uncomfortable with the song’s melancholy tone.
Sinatra came to Hugh Martin, requesting yet another revision. He had a particular problem with the “muddle through somehow” line. “The name of my album is A Jolly Christmas,” he told Martin. “Do you think you could jolly up that line for me?”
Evidently, Sinatra had more clout with the songwriter than Judy Garland had. This time, Martin willfully complied. He brightened up the song with a more positive approach. He toned down the sense of longing by shifting the lyrics into the present tense, implying a perennial happiness of the season. Most critically, Martin completely re-wrote the “muddle through somehow” line---into the line which you probably know best.
The re-polished song got the nod of approval from the Chairman of the Board (changes in green) . . .
The untroubled Sinatra rendition is what turned “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” into a Yuletide classic. There’s no denying the richness of its emotional depth. Its celebration of the joy of the season, while, at the same time, recalling our nostalgia for Christmases past, touches our hearts in a way no other Christmas song can manage. Even the more ebullient version is tinged with a longing that tugs at our memories.
Unlike many other holiday favourites, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” doesn’t reference any outdated Christmas customs, like wassailing or figgy pudding, things which sound strange or archaic to modern listeners. It’s perfectly understandable to any generation, leaving each listener to follow along with his own images of Christmas.
The song has been recorded nearly sixteen-hundred times, by thousands of artists around the world. (In case you were wondering, my favourite is Jimmy Dean’s performance of it in 1965.) If you hear the Garland lyrics, then it’s likely a version recorded before 1957. But not necessarily. Contemporary performers such as Toni Braxton, Phoebe Bridgers, and Norah Jones have preferred to go with the more bittersweet Garland version.
But whether it’s “muddling through” or “hanging a shining star”, the song evokes the warmth, the sentiment, the hope of the Christmas spirit.
Excuse me, while I go clear my throat.
* * * * *
From Cheryl and myself, to all of you, our fondest wishes for a Merry Christmas, and many more of them!
Replies
Merry Christmas, Commander! Interesting stuff, as always.I've often thought about how one method of achieving musical "immortality" is to record a "classic" holiday song, and Christmas is the holiday that has spawned the most songs of this type, apart from outliers like Bobby "Boris" Pickett, whose "Monster Mash" will surely be dutifully played on endless Hallowe'ens to come. Thinking about it, what young person of today would know of Brenda Lee, Perry Como or even Bing Crosby if they didn't hear their name and voices at Christmastime?
However, as you say, attempts to deliberately create a "classic" fail almost invariably. There are too many factors involved for such a thing to be artificially manipulated into being.
"Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" (the Judy Garland version) became my favorite Christmas song in 2016, the year my brother died. Since then I have have judged all cover versions of the song by which set of lyrics the artists use.
Regarding A Christmas Story, I have never seen it from beginning to end, but I feel as if I must have seen the entire movie in bits and pieces thanks to marathon airings and flipping channels. (Tracy likes it.)
In exchange for your annual column, I would like to offer you a book recommendation: Grandiloquent Words - A Pictoric Lexicon of Ostrobogulous Locutions by Jason Travis Ott (if you don't have it already).
This is what Tracy gave me for Christmas and I love it!
"Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" is one of my favorites for this time of year. Great to know the story behind the song. Thanks for doing the research, Commander.
Crosby, Como, Williams and many other singers of the past will live on seemingly forever due to their interpretations of all those wonderful Christmas songs.
In the interests of full disclosure, I have to tell you, gang, that I first wrote this Christmas Deck Log Entry some fifteen years ago. I didn't go with it then, or since, because I discovered that too many other sites tell the same story. Or, at least, bits and pieces of it. I prefer my dustbin-of-history tales to be more obscure; that way, they have more of a "Wow! I didn't know that!" factor. But I saved it as an "emergency Christmas column", in case something prevented me from writing my regular Christmas offering.
This year, that emergency arose. Late Christmas Eve, Cheryl suffered a stroke. Now, don't get all teary-eyed on me, folks. It was a mild stroke, caused by a blood clot that developed in her carotid artery after surgery she had in September to remove a pseudo-aneurism from her carotid. With any stroke, time is of the essence. We recognised the signs swiftly; the paramedics arrived fast; and she was transported to the nearest hospital, where her condition was stabilised before any further damage could occur. In the wee hours of Christmas Day, she was transported to a hospital with a major neuro-surgical facility.
She's been put on a blood-thinner to dissolve the clot, and once that is done, there will be some exploratory surgery to determine if the "inspecific dissection" on her carotid shown by the CT scan is an actual dissection, or just some quirky image caused by the original surgery to remove the pseudo-aneurism. The doctors are going to let the blood-thinner do its work before the go in and find out.
The damage from the stroke was remarkably mild. Initially, she'd lost the use of her left arm and leg. But, in response to treatment, she's regained the use of both limbs after a few hours. Her left arm is weak, but she has control of it and of her hand and fingers. She can stand unaided (but don't expect her to do any tap-dancing duets with Gene Nelson for awhile). The stroke never affected the muscles of her face, and she has been lucid, alert, and as sharp as ever throughout. The hourly motor-coördination tests show constant improvement. Her prognosis for return to a normal life is excellent, though she may be on a blood-thinner for the rest of her days.
I came home briefly around 0530 this morning to tend to household chores, like feeding our cats. That's when I pulled out this "emergency" column. It took about twenty minutes to update it, add a couple of pieces of art, polish it, and post it. My apologies for not delivering something more original.
Then, it was back to the hospital. I genuinely appreciate the care Cheryl's received from the physicians and nurses. I especially appreciate the attitude of the doctors, in that they didn't treat me like a child. I know enough medical terms that, during the doctors' consultation, I could extrapolate to get the gist of what was going on with Cheryl, and the physician in charge provided me a direct download of her situation, filling the the gaps with straight talk. Beyond that, it's just been a matter of waiting,keeping friends and family updated, and watching the nurses (angels of mercy, if there ever were any) take exceptional hour-to-hour care of her.
I got home for the evening about an hour ago, so now it's time to bring you folks up to date.
Obviously, this development torpedoed Christmas with my brother and his family. I'm disappointed at that, but not dismayed. I look upon this as a Christmas miracle of sorts. If it was going to inevitably happen, the timing was about as good as it could get. For example, it didn't happen while we were on our cruise last month. And occurring in the late hours of Christmas Eve/Christmas, there wasn't much traffic that the ambulance had to fight to get to our house, or for me to deal with in following along to the hospitals. The city seemed practically deserted.
And then, there's the fact that the stroke resulted in only minimal injury to Cheryl. I don't have to tell you what kind of panic the word "stroke" can inspire. As long as she's restored to full mobility---and all signs indicate that she will---we can deal with the inconveniences of medical care. So, aye, it's a Christmas miracle, as far as I'm concerned.
Wow! What a shock that must have been! I'm glad to hear that Cheryl is doing as well as can be expected, and send my best wishes for her continued recovery.
It sounds like the Good Mrs Benson is on her way to a full recovery. As you said, if it was going to happen it couldn’t have been timed better. All my best!
I am happy to hear that recovery is going well. I knew some of this history, but you told the story well. Not bad for an emergency backup!
Maybe next year all your troubles will be out of sight...
I'm glad to hear it wasn't worse.
Give Cheryl out best.
Not how you want to start your Christmas holiday. Glad to hear the GMB is doing as well as she is and heading for full recovery.
All the best to both of you!
Best wishes to you and the GMB - especially since she is making a full recovery! Let 2025 be a year of great joy, wonder, and enlightenment to you... and of course, great comics! (But, y'know, watch out for that Kono juice...)
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