With the rising sun on November 1st signaling Samhain’s end, and that it is safe to snuff out any remaining Jack O’ Lanterns, for the majority of the overly superstitious folks in America; there is little left to fret over for the remainder of the year. Typically, at this point in the year, the odds of any more Friday the 13th’s remaining are fairly low. At most all you really need to be wary of are the occasional black cat wandering across your path. However, there are a few brave souls out there willing to press their luck and test fate beyond the Harvest Fall. Even with the knowledge that once this particular ritual has begun, well let’s just say there are rumors of it lingering long into the new year. While walking under a ladder is interpreted as an obscure omen, observing someone ascending the rungs on one – with a box of colorful lights in tow after October is over – can only mean one thing. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
Unlike the All Hallows Eve warning to hold your breath while passing a cemetery, other than committing what some might consider a festive faux pas – akin to not knowing that when you bake a Christmas cake it absolutely must be made with fruit – there isn’t any true ill will aimed at anybody wishing to kick off the holidays as early as November. Actually, if you look around, you’re noticing that recently, as Back to School season ends, some retailers and shops start to deck the halls, stealthily sneaking holiday themed merchandise and displays onto store shelves. Amazing how anyone can manage to suppress the psychological suggestion to throw cares away and start the Christmas season as early as possible. Adding more mistletoe to the misfortune of some miser’s, depending on where you might live, or what app you use, by now Christmas bells are ringing.
Art and melody – the sights and sounds of the season – the significance of our senses as they pertain to every aspect of Christmas from past and present, from adornments to acknowledgements, can get ignored; consumed by consumerism and conceitedness. But, if you know what I know, you wouldn’t be so quick to let your heart turn callous. Because, if you know what I know, you’d notice that every bulb and ballad is actually a personal parable, an individual interpretation of the original Christmas story. A 1942 Christmas song written in October by Noel Regney and Gloria Shayne is a perfect example. The surely familiar song’s lyrics share resemblance to the nativity birth scene, but the statements of “cold” and “pray for peace” actually pertain to a much more recent global situation. Resembling the Christmas Truce from World War I, Do You Hear What I Hear was created during the height of the Cuban Missile Crisis as a call out for peace; one that surpasses all others. This just proves that, for the most part, all forms of performance and pageantry, whether fighting or a parade, that take place from mid October to January are powerless against falling into the purview of the magic that comes from this time of year.
Unlike the other holidays that occur after August, Christmas gets a lot of media attention. In some areas not only does Christmas manage to get a mention during nightly news broadcasts as soon as Summer ends, but the observance is the substance of several prominent and celebrated works of art – from Rockwell’s Merry Christmas, Grandma to Spielberg’s Gremlins. Wait, somebody doesn’t get the Gremlins reference. Gizmo was a Christmas present.
Well that explains how in 2025, as we approach yet another season of giving, and even after both of the film’s co-creators have finally voiced their unanimous opinion, the argument persists on whether the 1988 movie Die Hard fits with the theme of the Christmas holiday.
Merry Christmas…You Filthy Animals
Rather than assume everyone reading this either enjoys watching 80’s era Hollywood blockbusters, let’s quickly recap the plot of the 1988 film co-written by Jeb Stuart and Steven E. de Souza. Die Hard, based on author Roderick Thorp’s 1979 follow-up to his previous book The Detective, opens with Bruce Willis’ NYPD officer John McClane arriving in LAX on Christmas Eve. McClane travels to Los Angeles to spend the holidays with his family who moved after his wife Holly’s job with the Nakatomi Corporation turned into a career, requiring everyone – except John – to relocate to the West Coast. Unfortunately, moments after a brief attempt at reconciliation between the estranged couple, the Christmas Eve celebration hosted by the company is suddenly interrupted by terrorists, led by Hans Gruber. In an instant everyone – except John – is taken hostage. About two hours and a couple hundred rounds of ammo later, and after some explosives and expletives have been hurled, John manages to rescue Holly after not so politely wishing Hans a goodnight. Now, if that synopsis doesn’t sound like Christmas bells are ringing, then what does?
So then explain why it is that ever since the film’s release, Ebenezers everywhere have called humbug on any attempt to categorize Die Hard as a Christmas movie? The reasons for this range from disqualification due to the film’s Summer release, the (over)abundance of action and violence, and finally the lack of any major – see also: manufactured – Christmas material, such as reindeer or elves.
The first criticism can join the chorus with others who have a problem with the media manipulation of Christmas. Hopefully you’ll soon come to consider that both the film’s release date and presentation, decisions based on audience appeal, analysis and marketing, occurred even before our contemporary Christmas. Would you believe even a classic Christmas movie is guilty of this offense? Though containing a man some of the film’s characters come to believe is the actual Kris, Miracle on 34th Street starts in November at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Which in a boon for business back then wasn’t the only mention of the famous establishment with the film showing Kris getting a job at the store as Santa. With the comedy managing to highlight not one but two winter holidays, a May release seems like a missed opportunity. Not according to a studio head who felt more people go to the movies in warmer weather.
As for a film that not only involves action, but also features another detective during Winter’s dark nights and was also a Summer release, the dark night rises in 1992’s Batman Returns in the nick of time to stop a mean fellow, his skin all green and his all yellow. In addition to being Action films – with the R Rating not standing for Religious – both McClane and Bruce Wayne, thus far haven’t overcome the final foe to get to Christmas. That the only association these two films, and several others, have with the holiest of days is as a time of year. First, this idea disregards any depth or larger range for Die Hard besides the film’s ballistics. It suggests that substituting this setup would not sustainably alter the story, and show these movies don’t meet certain holiday themed requirements. But what if, like a blinding winter blizzard, this obsessiveness over controlling the Christmas narrative, the significance placed on each part of the story, causes the awareness of what they come together to symbolize is actually lost.
Someplace plenty of people, throughout time, have easily found themselves at the end of the year. A period when the Sun’s light fades fast. Not only does the night come earlier – obscuring our paths – but the waning of our source of warmth and comfort can cause the body’s extremities – including the head and heart – to develop hypothermia and suffer disorientation due to the bitter cold. This frosty disposition obviously has cast a fog over Die Hard so thick that not even Rudolph’s crimson light can pierce. Now there’s an outcast, one rejected by the world, however, when the request was made he answered the Toymaker’s call. Wait a second, that description of The Red Nose Reindeer sounds a lot like the origin of another famous Christmas character.
Maybe part of the problem with the final hurdle for Die Hard arises from what answer comes to mind to this challenge of your Christmas IQ.
Who comes around on a special night?
Turkey Hollow
Except for their calenderic proximity, initially the American holiday celebrations observed in the months of October, November and December couldn’t be farther apart. For instance, out of the three, only one is actually entirely American made. Even then Thanksgiving still contains some of the same fictitious, fairytale stuff that typically adults and disbelievers call foolishness. Yet, with this yearly Thursday tradition now come and gone, giving families and friends another chance to enjoy this occasion, maybe a look at the legends surrounding all these seasonal celebrations is a perfect place to start dismantling the major stance of those against Die Hard’s inclusion in the Christmas section of your streaming service: the setting.
Okay, exactly how many Halloween films exist? No, not just the 13 films that comprise the franchise that sometimes features Michael Myers, how many Halloween movies, films that emphasize and embody the true attributes of the occasion, do you think there are? Before you start counting on your fingers here’s an easier question, how many Thanksgiving films can you count? One, two…yes, that list is a lot shorter. Before you return to the attempt at enumerating the numerous titles we accept as Halloween movies ask yourself, is Nightmare on Elm Street a Halloween movie? Paranormal Activity or even The Blair Witch Project? Let’s be honest, with the exception of the Terrifier franchise, and some aspects of Trick or Treat, the majority of the media entries society considers Halloween-worthy are actually simply Horror films.
If your knowledge surrounding the lore of Samhain – the Scottish Gaelic name for November – is limited to the novelty, then you are likely not aware of the horrific, historical reality behind the holiday; how fear crept into settlements as Winter approached. As one of four Gaelic seasonal festivals, the night of Samhain indicates the halfway mark between the autumnal equinox and winter solstice. Unfortunately for us, the Irish and Celtic tribes that celebrated Samhain transferred their tales orally so most information is gone, however, the few records that remain highlight this precursor to Halloween as a time for bonfires and feasts, with seats left open so dearly departed relatives to visit as it was believed Samhain was a liminal festival. A moment when the threshold between realms falls and spirits from the Otherworld can freely roam the Earth. Our modern activities with candy and costumes are recreations of their beliefs that leaving food and drink, as well as adorning costumes made of animal hides, would dissuade any would-be possessor spirits. This of course did not stop the Roman-Catholic Church from taking possession of the festivity around 700 A.D. Render to Caesar…and whatever God wants, he’ll keep.
With the boom of Christianity, and word spreading through all the nations, early missionaries needed to erase alter any festival that gave power or authority to any save the Almighty. Fortunately, the church concocted quite the marketing scheme that over the ages would eventually transform Halloween into the pumpkin it is today. The first part included rebranding another pagan festival held to ward off malevolent spirits, this time the Roman pagan festival known as Lemuria. By deciding to dedicate the pantheon in Rome to the Virgin Mary and other martyrs during the month of May, and thus creating the celebration to honor those who died on the service known as All Saints Day, Pope Boniface IV created a subtle connection between the pagan and church holiday. Next, in order to avoid overshadowing the other Springtime celebration on the church calendar – Easter – All Saints Day was moved to November 1st by Pope Gregory III in the 8th century. The resulting vigil, held the eve before to commemorate the lives of “hallows” – the old English word for saint – is the reason the night of mischief is also known as All Hallow’s Eve. However, it still wouldn’t be the Halloween we enjoy today without the Irish once again, partially reclaiming their pagan holiday by adding stories like the one about Stingy Jack. Infusing Old Age customs and folklore that would help to round out the tradition upon their arrival in America in the 19th century.
It wouldn’t be until the early 20th century when the next of these yearly celebrations for those of us living in America was established. While the 1941 Federal Law signed by Roosevelt designating the fourth Thursday in November as the official date for the holiday, though the newest of the three holidays, like Halloween and Christmas, Thanksgiving’s plate is loaded with heaping helpings of history and tales.
If you disagree, well with the Thanksgiving holiday just recently over, now’s the perfect opportunity to settle some of the misconceptions about our annual Turkey Dance. Considering how the publicized, accepted story of the “original” Thanksgiving is full of such goodness and wholesomeness, complete with early settlers and a pious feast, oddly enough it doesn’t get the same treatment other holidays receive from Hollywood. Yes, there is Charlie Brown, and Pooh too, but a cartoon – while technically a movie – is a unique form of expression, in and of itself. Funny how the definition of the word cartoon implies they are unrealistic and one dimensional, yet these childish, comical caricatures manage to crossover from their own genre, and recreate circumstances that we can find relatable to a major holiday’s theme, or life situation in general.
The same can’t be said about some other entries a search for “Thanksgiving” films unveils. Some seem better suited for Halloween night – like Thanksgiving, The Last Thanksgiving and ThanksKilling. What stands out once you get past movies made for all audiences and these terrorizing films, few of the other film’s plots actually take place on Thanksgiving. As mentioned before Miracle on 34th Street starts with Thanksgiving, but this same logic means Tower Heist can break into the list. Other films that somehow make the list only seem to use Thanksgiving as a placeholder – or more accurately an excuse – to reunite a distant, often divided group for some big reveal or reconciliation. Guess the turkey and conversations around some tables are so dry that people are starving for something to watch so anything they can claim remotely resembles a traditional Thanksgiving will satisfy their appetite. Then again, they could just watch the one film that goes out of its way to honor the spirit of Thanksgiving, even if it does so in a rather unorthodox way. What do you expect, they are kooky.
And not only does Wednesday Adamms takeover of the Camp Chippewa production of A Turkey Named Brotherhood steal the show, it also shines the spotlight on some of the tom foolery surrounding Thanksgiving. That the play featured Pocahontas and the Pilgrims is very fishy – a staple Squanto taught the Pilgrims catch, and as fowl as the annual feast’s main dish.
For starters, let’s set the record straight, Pocahontas was in Virginia and not part of the “Pilgrims” story. Instead, as stated it was Squanto along with Samoset, two survivors of a plague that decimated the Patuxet tribe sent by Chief Massasoit of the Wampanoag to act as intercessors for the tribe, who were responsible for aiding the settlers of Plymouth Rock; teaching the Pilgrims to cultivate crops and fish the waters. According to the “legend” their charitable acts which helped the settlers survive led to a feast in 1621 where Pilgrim and Indian sat at the same table as brethrent.
Moving on to Pocahontas, her story takes place much earlier in the timeline of European ships arriving and colonizing what would one day become America. Unlike the Pilgrims, the ships arriving in Jamestown, Virginia in 1607 carried no women or children. Rather, as the story goes, it was the young woman Pochahontas stepping in to save the life of the captured John Smith that established the early, tenuous relationship between Englishmen and the Powhatan people.
As for Wednesday’s speech going off script, honestly there wasn’t one to begin with because in neither instance, Plymouth or Jamestown, were the indigenous tribe actually invited to the feast. Some historians state that the Wampanoag only arrived at the Pilgrim’s table after hearing the colony’s celebratory gunfire and mistaking their actions as an attack. Meanwhile, if we are being historically accurate then Jamestown, by order of the Virginia Company which issued the settlements charter, actually held one of, if not the first official American Thanksgiving in 1619 on December 4th. However, this day of giving thanks was to be a solemn, prayer filled event rather than the table spread we typically tend to think about during Thanksgiving: no gravy, only grace. Reading either story with this information paints a different portrait of both Squanto and Pochanotas. One of emissaries, sent from their tribes to promote peace and goodwill towards these foreign men. Intercessorers, the sight of each as they delivered supplies and aid, meant deliverance to the settlers suffering and in need.
Could this explain the reason not as many actual Thanksgiving themed films exist compared to other holidays? Not only does the holiday suffer the same convoluted and confusing backstory as the others, but it is arguably only a dress rehearsal for Christmas.
Speaking theatrically, neither Halloween nor Thanksgiving – or for that matter any other holiday – receives the same amount of stage recognition as Christmas. What do you expect from the Greatest Story Ever Told? Christmas, whose historical entirety is a whale of a tale with equal parts Jonah, Pinocchio and Moby. One that, like all stories including Die Hard, proves that quite often, the true meaning only materializes when you pay attention to the measure.
Ghost Stories and Tales of the Glories
With Thanksgiving over, and Black Friday too, indubitably the merry and bright can hardly wait for Christmas. A seasonal celebration receiving a chronological stamp, which is essentially what we do at Christmastime, is quite rare. Until you pause to take into account how the clock strikes differently at this time of year. The holiday rush, that temporary time dilation that only takes place during Christmas, a phantom that everyone has encountered – and likely will again in the coming weeks – is an example of this phenomenon. Is this because Christmas occurs during the Winter Solstice, a period where the length of each night’s darkness exceeds the amount of time the light shines, and causes unexpected inconsistencies in our circadian cycle? It could also be that, similar to Samhein, legends say that during this time the veil between the planes once more falters: even more so than at Halloween. For many, witches’ brew may only conjure up thoughts of the spooky season and cauldrons, however, how we celebrate Christmas is nothing short of an alchemical concoction.
Anyone up for a sleigh ride through the story behind December’s delightfully decorative event should know that the road diverges in more ways than Robert Frost’s poem. There’s the first Noel, to ransom captive Israel. How peace on earth will come to all if we just follow the light. What’s this you ask, how dare to imply these two Christmas tales have any connection, what’s next asking Mary did she know Donner and Dasher and Prancer and Vixen? Among the most adherent Christian believers, there is not enough room in the manger for St. Nick and Jesus Christ to share Christmas. Do they know that December 6th honors an actual 4th century bishop named Saint Nicholas noted for gift giving and generosity? Do they know Christmas presents only as part of the pagan propaganda festival Saturnalia with which it was merged? Not how they all serve as Earthly reminders of the eternal gift Christmas offers: hope and joy everlasting.
Obviously Mother Nature isn’t the matriarch most people think of at the start of Advent. But among the pagan community that existed before and lived among the early years of Christianity’s emergence, this time of year encouraged the “country dwellers” to adorn their house with greenery in anticipation of the return of Spring, promoting rebirth. While it might sound silly that these cultures insisted wreaths of holly and spruce were able to ward off and repel evil spirits, there is no denying the feelings of warmth, hospitality and happiness that they invokes, nor the smiles the sight of an illuminated Christmas tree elicits from both strangers and kin alike. Though Ach Tannenbaum, the 16th century Silesian song the arbor enamored anthem originates from was initially better suited for Valentine’s Day, two verses, added by composer Ernst Anschultz transformed the 1819 song written by August Zarnack into the classic Christmas carol it is today. Meanwhile the Christmas tree’s arrival in America took a slight detour as both Queen Charlotte bringing the German tree to England in 1800, along with the publication of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert pictured a tree at Windsor Castle in 1840 that truly popularized the Christmas tree.
It should be no surprise that transformation power is on full display during Christmas due to how much of this celebration involves Jesus Christ. From the Incarnation, a night encompassing seemingly dissonant frequencies – stillness and reverence resonating with harmonious shouts and hallelujahs. Emmanuel’s mission on Earth, transferred to his disciples on the day of his resurrection, would ultimately alter the landscape of religion, not just in the Hebrew world, but eventually for all mankind. No where more obvious after his death than possibly Rome, the empire inadvertently responsible for his crucifixion in the first place. For the charge of sedition, independence – something that now affords American citizens certain freedoms like religion – Christ was crucified. Like a Christmas carol this story contains a round, as Jesus’ death on the cross happened on the same day as the Annunciation – March 25th. A chorus repeated throughout this holiday resounds with a message of unification of a diverse audience. The branches leading to one root,
Speaking of unifying, so far during this discussion of Die Hard and the holidays, while mentioning some of the ways we categorize movies – from Christmas to Horror and Action – nothing has been said about the way they are collected: the genre. The French word, like the Latin word it originated from genus, means type or kind. While genus is most commonly used as a rank for biological classification, first used in the late 1700s to classify paintings in England, today genre is commonly used for other forms of artistic expression from literature, whose early genres included poems and prose, to movies and music.
Like the Church’s incorporation of other holidays eventually culminating in celebrations like Halloween and Christmas, it was the music industry in the late 19th century that saw an opportunity to gain a following. Prior to this period music only included categories like opera, vaudeville and hymn. However, chants and folk blended to become country and the blues, and from these two plus gospel new sounds would start to emerge. These new techniques for creating music and by experimenting with sounds led to the use of a term coined by J. F. Coar in 1903: subgenre. If you imagine a genre as a mantle, then subgenres are all the stockings you will find hanging in a row. They are under the same roof, with each suggesting a different preference in presents. As a medium, in cinema this appeared with the move from reality based films to those offering implied representations, first with Comedy and the already existing genre of Horror offering a grander visual narrative. A new way to tell any story – including a Christmas story.
With a significant portion of the story accepted as historically accurate, some could claim Christmas belongs in the genre known as the Actualities. Unfortunately, there are only so many ways to capture away in the manger. The same could be said for the one about St Nick, or even Santa Claus. So even adding these secular variations of the season to create an adult catalog in this subgenre studios have to add Drama. Which requires using metaphorical alterations and introducing recharacterizations common for that genre, with misinterpretation and misappropriation as unfortunate byproducts. After all, Mele Kalikimaka and Feliz Navidad are just another way of saying have a holly, jolly Christmas.
Oddly enough, a conversation dealing with this sort of cultural complexity and Christmas might just offer a solution. This one takes place in Die Hard during the limo ride to the Nakatomi Building. After repeated attempts to rap with John, the driver offers to lighten the mood with some holiday music. As soon as the first few beats from Christmas in Hollis come over the radio, McClane is quick to question if the driver has any Christmas music. Argyle’s response back, “This is Christmas music”, speaks volume on the subject and subgenre.
These last few points present an interesting explanation of what may prevent a solution for this philosophically festive conversation. Though existing longer than most of the items it describes, the popular use of subgenres is still relatively new. As one of them, Christmas really only gets discussed critically when it pertains to works of television or film. If we are ever going to be able to look at Die Hard and say this is Christmas or not, then shouldn’t the same criteria need enforcement across the spectrum of the art forms?
Guess it’s easy to overlook the evolution that took place in the other art forms relating to the genre of Christmas. Particularly media that tends to be in heavy rotation this time of year.
Re-songs For the Season
If we examine X-Mas strictly within the confines of a subgenre, so in this instance it’s okay and totally not sacrilegious and kinda cool to refer to Christmas this way, what ends up on the soundtrack? Pseudo songwriters or even the most mediocre storyteller understand that crafting a decent narrative requires beginning at the beginning. For a topic like Christmas that ain’t 1823, ain’t even 1970.
Fortunately for the sake of this story we don’t have to travel all the way back to Genesis and the Garden of Eden. Skipping past the Torah, the Laws and both sets of Prophets, we arrive at the spot where, according to the Gospels the Christmas story – and therefore the genre – began: O Little Town of Bethlehem.
Next, it could be the fear of associating something so serene and solemn with a slasher flick, but for some reason people fail to call one traditional holiday song by its actual name: Silent Night, Holy Night. If you’re someone guilty of making the mistake of calling it Silent Night instead, just associate the title with another canonically correct Christmas carol: Oh Holy Night. See, once you look at the lyrics, you’ll notice the majority of Christian-based Christmas music we listen to today encompasses other areas of Jesus’ life beyond just his birth. Similar to the Gospels themselves these songs, individually and ultimately collectively, chronicle the life of Christ from preconception to crucifixion. However, only two of them – Matthew and Luke – give accounts of the child’s birth. Scriptural perspectives, prose that also occur within these two songs.
The first of the two tunes – chronologically not biblically – was composed by Franz Xaver Gruber on Christmas Eve in 1818 and based on Joseph Mohr’s poem. Originally titled and written in German, in Stille Nacht heilige Nacht the lyrical recreation almost identically matches the scene set forth in Chapter 2 of Luke. As both books mention Mary, the angels in attendance and of course the baby Jesus, it is the specific mention of the shepherds – actors absent from Matthew’s nativity – that makes this observation possible.
Meanwhile, Oh Holy Night mirrors the Book of Matthew’s record primarily due to the inclusion of a group’s presence noted by this disciple. The mention of the Magi, falling to their knees at the sight they beheld, these phrases come practically verbatim from first verses of the scriptures 2nd chapter. Plus, prior to the crescendo accompanying the bold proclamation from the carols first verse, if you listen and you will hear one phrase that underscores what goes unsaid in the log contained in Matthew Chapter 1.
One point of distinction that will become important in a moment. Something each of the songs just named have in common is all three are carols. There are three distinct vocal musical arrangements everyone is accustomed to hearing and singing throughout the Christmas season. The majority of the “original” music today, commercially promoted and capitalistically produced, falls into the category of a song – a simple, melodic piece of music. Then there are those like early 12th century carols that tend to trek into a location’s folklore, and contain some of the more traditional, festive types of music we hear during the holidays. While carols can be rooted in Christian theology and even biblically based, as is the case with carols about Christ’s birth, some like the Carol of the Bells’ onomatopoeic repetition resonates with seasons’ spiritual significance. Finally, come the Christmas hymns, the first originating around the 4th century from simple chants, a term at times used arbitrarily to describe any religious piece. Jesus refulsit omnium might sound like a spell from The Sorcerer’s Stone, but some claim it to be the oldest known Christmas hymn. Using this Christmas hymn – translated to mean Jesus, Light of All the Nations – as a model, key features start to stand out including a repeatable, metrical structure to the music and expressions of praise and prayer, with a rhyming poetic form designed for congregational participation and as liturgy response.
During this article’s research, the most unexpected discovery was the sheer number of songs that belong to the Christmas genre. Ever listen to the actual lyrics? You wouldn’t believe the immense reduction in size the Christmas music genre would suffer if anyone started to scrutinize some “songs” in the same manner as films like Die Hard. A lot of them get the benefit of the doubt because of some sort of Santa clause; “Christmas” in the title.
But even if you are someone that despises Christmas music, this hardly justifies filing a grievance and besides few cases lodged against Father Christmas stand up in court. One reason you’d lose is that we tend to inadvertently, unintentionally and almost unconsciously associate music sung at Christmas time as having something to do with the church, religion and/or Jesus. However, as you just read, the hierarchy and timeline goes hymn then carol, and lastly song. So the potential is high that a few Christmas tunes made in the last two centuries fall into that particular music box. Even with older Christmas songs the material it covers – like the seasonally coordinated 12 Days of Christmas – eventually winds up coming across as secularly centered. And just as with films, even classical Christian musical works that weren’t Christmas oriented, are guilty of getting caught up in the spirit of the holiday. Beethoven’s final complete symphony, The Symphony 9’s final movement musically expresses the Frederich Schiller poem To Joy. Originally a German choral arrangement, Ode to Joy, composed between 1822 and 1824, years later it served as the inspiration for Christian songwriter Henry van Dyke to pen the hymn Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee in 1907. If you’ve seen Die Hard then you’ve heard this song playing the moment when Gruber gets his one Christmas wish. The problem – the song isn’t about Christmas at all, but with the lyrics that speak about brotherhood, peace and uniting all mankind, the correlation is understandable.
During this article’s research, the most unexpected discovery was the sheer number of songs that belong to the Christmas genre. Ever listen to the actual lyrics? You wouldn’t believe the immense reduction in size the Christmas music genre would suffer if anyone started to scrutinize some “songs” in the same manner as films like Die Hard. A lot of them get the benefit of the doubt because of some sort of Santa clause; “Christmas” in the title.
But even if you are someone that despises Christmas music, this hardly justifies filing a grievance and besides few cases lodged against Father Christmas stand up in court. One reason you’d lose is that we tend to inadvertently, unintentionally and almost unconsciously associate music sung at Christmas time as having something to do with the church, religion and/or Jesus. However, as you just read, the hierarchy and timeline goes hymn then carol, and lastly song. So the potential is high that a few Christmas tunes made in the last two centuries fall into that particular music box. Even with older Christmas songs the material it covers – like the seasonally coordinated 12 Days of Christmas – eventually winds up coming across as secularly centered. And just as with films, even classical Christian musical works that weren’t Christmas oriented, are guilty of getting caught up in the spirit of the holiday. Beethoven’s final complete symphony, The Symphony 9’s final movement musically expresses the Frederich Schiller poem To Joy. Originally a German choral arrangement, Ode to Joy, composed between 1822 and 1824, years later it served as the inspiration for Christian songwriter Henry van Dyke to pen the hymn Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee in 1907. If you’ve seen Die Hard then you’ve heard this song playing the moment when Gruber gets his one Christmas wish. The problem – the song isn’t about Christmas at all, but with the lyrics that speak about brotherhood, peace and uniting all mankind, the correlation is understandable.
Ironically, what Christmas music illustrates is that the illusionary barrier that separates the secular and sacred versions of the holiday celebration vanishes upon hearing bells, horns and harp strings. Instruments commonly associated with the heavenly hosts, the angels that both Matthew and Luke proclaim sang and chanted at the Savior’s birth.
While neither Gospel speaks of his presence, the lullaby behind the 1951 song The Little Drummer Boy suggests the percussionist chose to play the gift of the Magi that night. Keeping the beat is one area that the music of Christmas night and movies – or any story for that matter – have in common. Consistency in pacing, a structural rhythm, and the adherence to a narrative flow. Ultimately, does it move with purpose, and if so, how does it move people?
Now if that interpretation of Die Hard is a bit too heavy philosophically or theologically for you to handle, then just consider McClane like one of the many other fictional characters from Christmas stories who deal with things like flight delays, insufficient toy inventory or any of the other million unlikely, yet still relatable, chaotic circumstance that attempt to disrupt – even completely derail – the Polar Express. Come to think of it, if Die Hard isn’t a Christmas holiday movie, how is Home Alone? After all, isn’t that film just a family friendlier version of Die Hard? Think about it, Kate McCallister’s won’t quit, I’ll be home for Christmas attitude exemplifies John’s journey to LA, while Kevin keeps watch by night of the homestead like Roy Rogers.
Viewed this way, isn’t it possible critics have shined so bright a spotlight on everything that prohibits Die Hard from being a Christmas movie rather than illuminate the reasons it should be embraced as one. No matter your beliefs, there is no denying that a huge part of this seasonal celebration centers on prophecies surrounding and proclamations of the birth of Jesus Christ. So, it is justifiable that in the midst of this look into what the Christmas holiday means to include some mention of Emmanuel. The majority of the Christmas holiday media provides little commentary on Christ’s arrival, yet the inclusion of other components of the miraculous moment, such as Bethlehem’s Star – a representation of which sits atop the trees in the majority of American homes, sit at the core of what we all collectively call Christmas. This metamorphic means of disseminating a message to the masses is reminiscent of Jesus’ famous method of utilizing parables. Which may provide one final chance to prove Die Hard relevant on a list that celebrates a religious day. This technique of taking an original – or familiar – scenario and substituting or supplanting certain components was to ensure the lesson was available for all whose “eyes” and “ears” were awaiting. Processes known in our present day world as the retelling or reimaging.
Walkie Talkie, Die Hard Mother &%$#!
Since we have already discussed Christmas and spoken on carols, why don’t we use Charles Dickens’ timeless classic – A Christmas Carol – as an example. Society tends to reserve the term classic for those artistic expressions that are now engraved upon the tapestry of time. Works with relevance extends from olden days and into the future. Due to this literary distinction, and the fact Scrooge’s story fails to meet one crucial feature of the format – follow up stories – there has never been a logical reason to reboot, or remake, the novel. Nor does the reboot really carry much weight in this discussion, as a retelling of the Die Hard legend would only lead us right back here – the same “setting” – with nothing settled in favor or against any Christmas subgenrefication for this 80’s action flick.
Moving on to retelling, attempts at this using A Christmas Carol have given audiences many exceptional Ebeneziers, from a media mogul portrayed by Bill Murray to Michael Caine’s miser surrounded by Muppets, with neither of these altering the seasonal aspects and instead focusing on characters and small plot details, something this technique has in common with remakes. This allows an astute mind to identify the discrepancies between the various entries to attain the true meaning.
If we were to apply the same approach to Die Hard, very few films come to mind, with one standing out for its emphasis on the John McClane franchise catalysts two major components: hostages and the December holiday. While featuring Geena Davis dressing up as the Missus for a Christmas parade, The Long Kiss Goodnight has nothing to do with mommy kissing Santa Claus.
Like the original Christmas carol, Ghosts of Girlfriends Past didn’t receive an overwhelming positive response upon arriving, so is it possible there was a message provided that wasn’t immediately apparent to all. Although, as previously stated about Thanksgiving, it is in the same vein; spirit. You might already notice that while Scrooge, and the Scrooge’s of the world, are unwilling to give charitably – or only in self servicing circumstances – with Connor we witness someone unwilling to embrace love; who fails to act compassionately. Yet, when you stop focusing on all the obvious differences between Connor and Scrooge, from the centuries in which they lived to their lifestyles, something else becomes clear. As mentioned previously about songs, the film allows audiences to finally see that depending on your definition, other than as a setting, Dicken’s 1843 novel has very little to do with “Christmas” at all. This comes courtesy of one key scene from the romantic comedy that mirrors the classic: defending their relative’s behavior. Here we see how both Ben and Fred ask nothing more of their respective relatives than their time and companionship, which admittedly according to our modern world are worth money, and yet each has their request denied. Even still, they exhibit the greatest human capability as exemplified by Christ: unconditional love.
The scripture most biblically significant to this particular message comes from Corinthians – taught during the days of the early Christian church by the sheppard Paul and famous for its use at weddings. But even the lesson the original miser learned doesn’t occur in the book of Matthew until ages after joy to the world. It is unfortunate that Ebenezer and Mead’s humane deficiency, the work’s true subject matter, gets obscured by the messages relating to the grander celebrations taking place in each story. Which also brings up the question, if Die Hard is out, since the lesson from the novel relates to Jesus ministry, should we re-evaluate what genre A Christmas Carol belongs in?
Meanwhile, the movie industry has kept the solo protagonist against hostage holding terrorists synopsis so evergreen that it is practically a genre itself. Which is good as this allows an opportunity to determine what a Die Hard without Christmas would look like. The plots of films such as Air Force One and White House Down come to mind. If these two feel overly American and patriotic, then you can also add another Christmas in July movie when John McClane proves you can take the Ho, Ho, Ho out of Die Hard in the franchise’s fourth installment. However, he does still get a machine gun – plus c’est la meme chose(?) – as the movie’s holiday focus moves to the 4th of July weekend.
Now, exactly how do the endings, the final act, or any other film you might imagine fits within this “genre”, make you feel? Was there anything in them comparable to the weight of the world moment John experiences once he fully sees the road ahead and what walking it required. This realization, so overwhelming, he immediately asks a solemn vow of Sergeant Al Powell to find Holly after the situation is safely resolved? For anyone who has ever watched Dogma, you heard something similar coming from the voice of the late Hans Gruber actor Alan Rickman in the film when the angel recalls a brief moment when Christ felt the same way saying “I don’t want this.”
For the non-religious, traditional audience, what about a good ole fashioned, down home, heartfelt moment, like when little Lucy McClane preciously paraphrases the refrain from one of the most impassioned Christmas song pleas: come home. Years later, watching the college aged Lucy held hostage by cyber terrorists in Live Free or Die Hard doesn’t seem to bother anyone as much as the film’s premise highlighting the vulnerability of individual digital identity. And even though the film indicates records show the McClane’s are divorced at the time, Die Hard ends with John experiencing the gift of the Magi. Not to mention some mistletoe and holly.
See, although there are many films that imitate, even surpass Die Hard, in terms of their portrayal of the against all odds plot elements that define this genre, but none do it while also recreating crucial portions of the classic films ambience. Perhaps that is because Die Hard, unlike other films, came, even if unbeknownst to its co-creators at first, to make Christmas magic. Think about it, for years, only cookie cutter copycat films were considered as acceptable television programming for the holiday season. By now hopefully you’ve started to recognize how these faux profit off our insistence of only wanting one thing for Christmas. Thankfully, like with the pagans, a nonbeliever is here to help audiences embrace the message that is the cornerstone of Christmas.
With the title A Mort Well Lived sounding sort of like It’s A Wonderful Life, the 2nd episode of season 6 of Rick and Morty already subtly hinted it might be some sort of Christmas special. However, as anyone who has ever watched the Adult Swim show will inform you Rick and Morty rarely do things simply or sensibly. Or spiritually, so A Mort Well Lived never outright establishes a biblical stance. Nor on the surface does it appear anywhere remotely Christmas-worthy, that is until you recognize the episode’s Die Hart variation that shows a group of alien terrorists have taken over an intergalactic arcade establishment known as Blitz and Chips and are holding everyone inside – including Rick, Morty – hostage, leaving Summer to do a Die Hard. Yeah, the show isn’t known for subtlety either, though by revisiting an arcade game known as Roy, viewers experience a different vantage through this merging of Die and Hard and A Wonderful Life.
As Summer maintains the hilarious Die Hard parody, the alien hijacker makes an interesting statement. Every civilized culture eventually develops a Die Hard – The Nakatomi Paradigm. Well, couldn’t the same thing be true about Christmas. Do you trace the tradition of gift giving all the way back to Bethlehem, the Yule tradition or England before becoming part of American consumerism. Is it Saint Nicholas, Santa Claus or Satan Claus? Is Winter supposed to be a Marshmallow World or a Wonderland? And should a Christmas song really contain a line asking what’s in this drink?
Distilling anything – be it a seasonal celebration, a cinematic work or a creation – down to only one or two details allows for the manifestation of multiple types of discrimination. It implies a purity that can both prohibit some individuals rightful participation or – as shown with the Pharisees – provide a means and opportunity for phony replication.
Rather, as A Mort Well Lived’s other plot points out, the story the showrunners are really telling is yet another instance of cartoon imitating life – on many levels. During the hijacking, Morty becomes stuck inside the simulated world and splintered amongst the billions of non playable characters, NPCs, that gamers often encounter in open world video games such as Roy. Trapped, fractured into unique, yet basically similar personalities – none of which maintain a memory of his “true self” – Morty’s only hope is Rick. Entering the game as the playable character Roy, Rick uses this life to share a message with the multiple variant versions of Morty of an escape from the illusion. But in order to accomplish this, Roy must confess something that Rick is very reluctant to admit. Not content with the logic that salvaging even 92% of the game’s population is sufficient, the NPC’s require a price that by calculations only one has been willing to pay – All.
Far be it for anyone to call John McLane a savior, or even a saint. But, I bet even Sister Teresa would have nothing but hosannas to heap upon the detective for his heroism and sacrifice. Now, briefly suspend your disbelief, once something imaginably much easier during Christmas for some of you reading this, and reflect on John’s story in Die Hard. A stranger, no one knew him, a fact pointed out by Gruber once he realized his adversary was neither a Nakatomi employee or a security guard. When you think about it, John could have chosen to remain hidden, to act in service of no one except his own best interests, but instead he unselfishly acted, interceded and offered his life as ransom for others. This a pretty good summation of the Die Hard’s plot, so honestly does adding it to the Christmas subgenre – even if you might feel this plot explanation only superficially applies – actually cause the “body” any loss.
Look, it might not be the lost sheep, but if McClane’s mayhem in Die Hard is the fates way of allowing another way to connect people during the holiday season, then do we have to use this season to obsess over and judge the messenger and methodology? Couldn’t we at least wait until Easter to do that?
Because, although it’s been said many times, many ways…
Yippee Ki-Yay….Merry Christmas
Off The Top Of My Head And Out Of My Mind 
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