I adore movies, every year I eagerly watch the classics like The Holiday and The Muppets Christmas Carol as well as new releases.
Watching as I open my new pyjamas and hide our little cardboard Grinch somewhere in the tree. I am far from a Scrooge when it comes to the festivities.
Every year, festive movie rankings declare ’s Home Alone is at the top of Brits’ must-watch list but until this year, I had managed to dodge it completely.
A whopping 33 years after its release, I finally embarked on a mini-marathon of both Home Alone and Home Alone 2: Lost in .
Aged 26, I sat down to watch eight-year-old Kevin McAllister defend his home – and then a toy store – against the Wet Bandits as he is left… wait for it… home alone.
I hated every second.
Honestly, I’m a little gutted I didn’t like it more given all the years worth of hype around this film. Saying you don’t like Home Alone seems to be on a par with admitting you enjoy kicking puppies.
I can feel the outrage as readers prepare their indignation but ask yourself, what is it you actually love about this film?
Rather than Christmas cheer, my overwhelming feeling was concern as I watched Kevin get bullied by every single member of his family for no apparent reason.
Why does everyone hate this little kid so much?
He asks for help packing – since he is, as he points out, only eight – and his family fob him off onto someone else or just hurl abuse at him.
Giving up on his efforts to do as his mum asked and get his things ready for the holiday (a ridiculously large family holiday to Paris! Why?), he goes downstairs for food only to find his horrible brother has eaten the entire cheese pizza.
When he complains, he is once again yelled at or straight-up ignored until this poor kid snaps and lashes out, angering his entire hideous family.
His dad stands in silence as his nasty uncle calls him a ‘little jerk’ for trying to defend himself before his ever-so-loving mum, played by Catherine O’Hara, shoves him into the attic.
To add to the Christmas fun, poor Kevin is then forgotten by his family as they rush out their huge mansion in the morning and left thinking he is responsible because he wished they were gone.
I can’t blame Kevin for being happy they’ve seemingly vanished; imagine being told you’re worthless your whole life and suddenly your bullies disappear – a righteous cause for celebration.
And that’s just the first half hour, with the rest of the film focusing on this tiny child outsmarting some seriously idiotic burglars.
I enjoy well-timed and well-done physical comedy and there’s no denying that Joe Pesci and Daniel Stern do a fabulous job but over an hour of Tom & Jerry-style antics became a little mind-numbing.
There’s only so much slipping over and paint cans to the face I can take and, clearly, my tolerance is less than these indestructible men – one of whom has several bricks dropped on his face from a considerable height in the sequel with no major injuries.
To make matters worse, the heartwarming reunion with Kevin’s family apologising (having miraculously rushed back on a nine-hour flight from Paris to Chicago) is totally negated by Home Alone 2.
In a strong start, his still-horrible brother humiliates him in front of the entire school with even the parents laughing at this now nine-year-old boy – seriously what did this kid do to earn such hatred?!
I couldn’t find a single compelling reason to make me watch Home Alone again, even the lonely old man subplot couldn’t defeat my distaste for everything else.
Beyond the storyline failing to grab my attention, for a generation that has only really known economic crashes and is unlikely to own a home that large unless I win the lottery, I find it hard to sympathise with the plight of these terrible, rich people.
With his generational wealth backing him and his clear wits, I imagine Kevin will do quite well for himself and probably manage to leave his abusive family behind once he secures his Wall Street career reserved for rich men in suits.
I’m left unsure of how to feel about our hero other than worry about his seemingly Kardashian-level wealth but with nobody to teach him what it means to be a kind, caring person other than his random old neighbour and a pigeon lady.
I would wager I’m not (home) alone in these feelings of distaste for his family or even Kevin himself. Maybe Gen Z are simple too woke to take pity on the McAllisters?
Maybe it’s far less existential than that and I simply didn’t connect with it as a child, since the original would have already been seven years old when I was born – the same year as the much less revered third movie.
Or maybe it’s because I can’t relate as I was raised in a more child welfare-focused era, although my parents did also manage to leave me home alone at age six, albeit only for an hour.
Quite possibly, Home Alone is simply representative of an American dream that Gen Z missed thanks to a slew of disastrous changes including economic, societal and aspirational.
Either way, the Home Alone fanatics can keep this one for themselves I will be snuggling up to watch literally anything else this year.
Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals.
