Nothing Like the Holidays: Review By B. Alan Orange

I hate the stated screen presence of John Leguizamo in just about everything he touches. His persona is damaged goods, and for some unspeakable reason I can’t stand the man. He rubs me the wrong way, and I think it may be his teeth. And the tripped-up way he delvers his lines. These off feelings have been welling up inside of me ever since I first saw him in Casualties of War. His cheeky demeanor grates me like a block of federal housing cheese, and whenever I see his name attached to the top of a movie poster, I head for the hills with my eyes down, fists out. So, imagine my surprise when his latest film had me cheering for the man. Like some creepy Christmas miracle, Alfredo De Villa’s latest family dramedy actually allowed me to except him as a character and an actor. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like bolting upon sight of his schreeky mug. And that says a lot for the film itself.

Sort of.

Nothing Like the Holidays is another turgid slog through someone else’s Christmas vacation. Don’t take that the wrong way. The film is essentially a well-written family drama with a lot of good humor and a touch of earned heart. It’s just become the norm in Hollywood to have your so-called Holiday movie wrapped up in the sorted kind of realism that confronts us all. There is no magic or fantastical story telling elements to be found here. Its three steps away from being a docudrama, and reminds me of every single Christmas had back home. The whole experience is rather tiresome, and it makes me want to skip out on the flesh and blood repeat that will be heading my way sooner than later this year.

Call it the Déjà vu Flu. It makes me want to bite through my bottom lip, and dig my dirty nails deep into the flesh of my palms. Why am I being forced to suffer through the Rodriguez family trials and tribulations when these same diacritic moments await me for real somewhere else in the world? I want stories about Santa Claus and the Grinch. I want Michael the Christmas Crack Donkey and Will Ferrell as an Elf. Last year gave us too many family home vacation-ary tales of debunked anti-wonderment. And this year is doing the same. Nothing Like the Holidays is perfect for those poor, lonesome souls that will be spending the winter months alone, far removed from friends and family. It will give them a sense of closure and warmth, and allow them to vicariously live through what could be the most depressing part of the year. Maybe that’s why they’re built from the ground up with realistic overtures of passion. To give the less fortunate something to crow about.

There is nothing particularly extraordinary about the Rodriguez family. They could be any Puerto Rican clan anywhere in the United States. A few days before Christmas, Edy and Anna are visited by their three children. Mauricio is the oldest. And most successful. He is married to a nice Jewish girl with a business-oriented mind. Mom doesn’t like her because she hasn’t produced a child yet, and has no intentions of doing so any time in the near future. Jessy has just come back from the war with thoughts of taking over the family business, and Roxanna, the youngest, is a floundering actress just in from her tour of duty out in Hollywood. There’s also Ozzy, the street thug that is in love with Roxanna, Marissa, who is in love with Jessy, and Johnny, the crazy uncle/nephew that owns an electronics store. They’re certainly an average bunch. And they do the same things we do around the holidays. Cook food, hang out together, get drunk in the attic, and attempt tree removal.

Each actor is given a nice little piece to play with. Leguizamo shines as a husband trying to balance his faith with his wife’s, played by a misplaced Debra Messing. And the drama culminates with the impending death of their father, played by Alfred Molina. It seems a divorce is in the works for him and his long in the tooth wife. Mrs. Rodriguez thinks that Edy is having an affair. He’s actually seeing a nurse because he has cancer. He doesn’t want to tell anybody because he wants one last perfect Christmas. Its goofy, but it works in selling home a few tears. You’ll almost feel like part of the family by the time all is said and done. And you’ll feel like you’ve had your celebration. Any home cooking is just going to seem like warmed up leftovers after you sit through the bulk weight of Nothing Like the Holidays.

It’s like any family drama, really. Quite, disinfected, charming, sometimes quite funny. Having its wallpaper wrapped in red and green is what kills its effervescence. I don’t need to spend my holidays with anybody but my immediate family. Paying twelve bucks to watch someone else’s relatives sip eggnog and slog through the cold snow is emotional overkill. I don’t want it. I don’t need it. For being a proficient and well-crafted slice of pragmatic entertainment, it gets a Whoop-doo! But for being another boring family affair Christmas this close to my own homespun adventures, I give it a Boo! I think I’ve said enough about it. Now, go forth and make your ticket purchase, you lonely Puerto Rican savant.

(All of B. Alan Orange’s reviews are based on the Boo! or Whoop-doo! evaluation system.)