No movie is as nostalgic as Home Alone 1 and 2. They make the cut for my most beloved movies of all-time, and easily ranks at the top of the holiday genre.
Year after year, the timeless writing perfectly captures the perspective of a kid who feels like the black sheep of the family. I think we all could relate with Kevin McCallister to some extent. That’s what made him so fun to root for.
The other shining star of the films: the musical score. John Williams composes masterpieces that do a damn good job at tugging at our emotions. Think of all the recognizable scores of the last 50+ years. Williams’ is likely responsible for them. His impressive resume includes Star Wars, Jaws, Indiana Jones, Harry Potter and Jurassic Park. They seamlessly move the story along as any good musical score does but the best ones stick with you long after the credits roll. In December, The Home Alone soundtrack is on repeat morphing it’s way into memories of my own. When I listen to it, the first fall of snow on the east coast comes to mind. I think of Jordan and I assembling the train set with the dogs investigating each piece before they click into place around our tree. Or baking in my tiny kitchen using a wine bottle as a makeshift rolling pin.
My next point may be controversial. It’s an opinion I’ve held for majority of my life so I had plenty of time to mull it over before publishing this post.
Home Alone 2: Lost in New York is the better movie.
It’s one of the rare times a sequel rivals the original. Let me explain.
Within a year, Kevin outgrew a lot of his brattiness. There’s a shift at the end of the first film after he witnesses his elderly neighbor reunite with his family. It’s in that moment he appreciates having a big one. He continues to evolve throughout the second film into a (mostly) well-intentioned nine-year old.
Kevin’s grand taxi entrance into Manhatten was the perfect kick-off to his unsupervised adventures. I fill up with joy during the montage of him playing tourist with a film camera in hand and firecrackers from Chinatown in his backpack. Bystanders are too busy to notice a care-free child roaming around by themselves. The early nineties marked a simpler time.
There isn’t a more festive backdrop than New York City all dressed up for Christmas. The bustling energy and sea of locals and tourists have all the ingredients of an exciting cat-and-mouse chase.
With the sparklier location comes a wider cast of characters for Kevin to outsmart. Tim Curry and Rob Schneider as the suspiciously dim-witted hotel employees add a new level of humor to Kevin’s misadventures. They’re a riot in every scene and help balance out the menacing antagonists (we shamelessly love them too).
Harry and Marv’s vengeful return raises the stakes. Since the duo are better prepared for Kevin’s trickery, the under-renovation brownstone helps level the playing field. Giant holes in the floor and rickety fire escapes add to the danger of the break-in scene. The unfinished space allows for bigger messes compared to at the manicured McCallister residence.
Kevin’s growing street smarts is matched with a stronger moral compass. He really starts to understand the spirit of Christmas when he donates money to the owner of Mr. Duncan’s toy shop. Would younger Kevin have done that? I’m not so sure.
To see the leading character evolve into a better person gives Lost in New York the biggest advantage. Namely the pure and unlikely friendship between Kevin and Brenda, the Pigeon Lady.
As a child, we often don’t realize how the holidays can be lonely and painful for people. Their scenes together were some of my first lessons in empathy and honestly still serve as a sobering reminder as an adult. Both Kevin and Brenda save each other in their own ways. I’ll be eighty and still get choked up over the Turtle Dove ornaments. Cue goosebumps.
Then there’s Kevin’s mom, the talented Cathy O’hara. I’m 100% onboard with the better utilization of her character. At the end of the day, she’s a parent trying her best. I’m thankful for the moments that humanize her in a way that the first film was lacking. The audience is taken on the journey of a Mother’s love to get back to their child just before Christmas. She’s his North Star. Enter the lovable late John Candy who makes anything he’s a part of better. The audience goes from rooting on Kevin against the bad guys to rooting for him and his Mom’s reunion. The storylines run parallel grounding the plot in all of its outlandish antics. Their bond is the heartbeat of the film.
The second iteration has all the heart from the original film with an extra sprinkling of Christmas magic and the good kind of mischief that the franchise is known for.
If you love Home Alone and want to learn more about how the film came to be, I highly recommend The Movies that Made Us on Netflix. The special covers a lot of the production and budget hurdles that almost prevented the first one from coming together.
No Christmas is complete without an annual viewing of both films, they’re a perfect pairing – like two turtle doves.
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