All I Want for Christmas is to be a Credit to Capitalism
'Tis the season for those feel-good holiday movies.
You know, the ones where Fate arrives in one form or
another to teach us a lesson. Often this lesson
involves time travel: the otherworldly facilitator
shows us the future, illuminates our past (i.e.,
points out when and how we blew it), or better, allows
us the ultimate fantasy of reliving our past. And
since we get to relive it with the benefit of
foresight -- or maybe hindsight -- we do things right,
we become better people, and we end up happy. Or
happier. At any rate, the result is always the same
warm and fuzzy feeling that all could be well with
the world. Such is the way of Brett Ratner's new film,
The Family Man. It's sort of A Christmas Carol
meets It's a Wonderful Life which means it's not
exactly groundbreaking material. But even though the
plot is a bit worn out, it's hard to complain about
two hours of Téa Leoni's adorableness and the
thankfully-not-over-the-top-this-time quirkiness that
is Nicolas Cage. And yet...
The film opens in 1987. Jack Campbell (Cage) and
girlfriend Kate (Leoni) are saying goodbye in an
airport. Kate is starting law school while Jack is
heading off to London for a year to intern at
Barclay's Bank. When he gets back, they'll kick off
their life together. Suddenly, Kate is overwhelmed
with dread and begs Jack to "do something great" by
throwing the plan overboard and winging it with her.
"I choose us," she says, teary-eyed. Jack boards the
plane anyhow, believing, it seems, that nothing much
can change in a year.
Cut to Christmas Eve, thirteen years later: Jack is
president of a Wall Street investment firm, living a
life of luxury, and hooking up with Amber Valletta
(okay, she's not playing herself, but the point is
that she is one of the luxuries in his life along with
penthouse apartments, Ferraris, and $2000 suits). Kate
is history and it's apparent that one year changed
everything for Jack. A better dressed, less grumpy
Scrooge, Jack heads in to the office perfectly happy
to work on his latest mega-merger straight through the
holiday with few qualms about having his staff do the
same. He is a willing, living sacrifice to
capitalism, with a work ethic from hell and plenty of
corporate plunder to occupy his down time. When his
assistant (Mary Beth Hurt) brings him a message from
the now-long-gone Kate, Jack considers returning the
call but decides against it, convinced that she is
calling out of loneliness, pining after the one that
got away. Instead, he heads home to his empty
apartment, stopping in a convenience store on the way.
Here Jack meets Cash (Don Cheadle) when he tries to
diffuse a confrontation between Cash, in full
thug-life regalia, and the Korean store owner (it's a
pretty gross scene, this confrontation between two
totally overblown stereotypes). Jack ends up
dispensing condescending pat advice to Cash about
cleaning up his act, getting into a "program," etc.,
declaring finally that "everybody needs something."
Cash turns the question back on Jack, but Jack firmly
believes he has everything he could ever want.
And that's where the "fun" begins. Jack goes to sleep
in his penthouse but wakes up in a crowded house in
Téaneck, New Jersey, as husband to Kate and father to
two children, Annie (Makenzie Vega) and Josh (Jake and
Ryan Mikovich). Completely disoriented, Jack flees the
house in the family minivan (isn't that funny? he used
to drive a Ferrari and now he's driving a minivan!)
and heads back into the city where he runs into Cash
(guess who's driving the Ferrari now?). It seems that
Cash is an angel of some sort, sent to offer shallow
but well-meaning folks like Jack a "glimpse" at what
their lives might have been had they made different
choices at critical junctures. For Jack, that means
seeing how things turned out had he not gone to
London. But he can't get back to his "real" life until
he figures out the lesson the glimpse has to offer, so
Jack returns to New Jersey and tries to fill in
thirteen years' worth of blanks.
The Family Man offers plenty of laughs as Jack
stumbles awkwardly through his newfound bourgeois
existence, though we've seen most of the gimmicks
before. Sure, it's kinda funny to see someone
downshifting from Armani to Penny's, hanging out at
the Bowl-o-Rama instead of a Vail ski resort, or
running Big Ed's Tires instead of a Wall Street firm.
I have to say though, I have never seen what is so
funny about a man who can't figure out how to hold a
baby or, worse, who practically needs counseling when
confronted by a poopy diaper. And anyhow, we saw all
this in Mr. Mom. But for all the goofy stunts, Jack
completes his mission. But just when he figures it all
out -- realizes he still loves Kate after all these
years, decides he loves his new life, his house, and
being a father -- the glimpse of what might have been
ends. After all, Cash explains, "A glimpse, by
definition, is an impermanent thing."
So Jack ends up back in the penthouse, saddened by his
loss and determined to make that "glimpse" a reality.
He sets off to find Kate, who has been the perfect
woman inside the glimpse: a super-mom, non-profit
lawyer, spontaneous, laid-back, sexy, goofy, and fun.
Outside the glimpse, without Jack, she's a powerful
lawyer for an international law firm who gives her
assistant Prada bags for Christmas and is relocating
to Paris. Basically, she's the girl version of the
Jack that was, only less of a jerk. We can't help but
feel a little disappointed in Kate for moving on and
hope she'll follow her own advice from 13 years ago
and throw it all away to be with Jack. We get sucked
into the wish easily enough. After all, the film did a
great job of making their life together with the kids
seem like something worth having. But then again,
isn't there something wrong with seeing her as somehow
incomplete without Jack? She had once been willing to
make the leap of faith and he had not, so why should
we be made to begrudge her her success and apparent
happiness? The letdown we feel concerning Kate, even
if it is only fleeting, is indicative that, like Jack,
we believed, at some level, that she was still waiting
for him. Or that she should be.
Like most holiday movies, The Family Man is meant to
have a very positive message, but it's a message that
is troubling too. We know from the start that Jack
will wind up having everything he wants and needs in
life. His reward for learning that he has wants and
needs at all, that being rich but lonely isn't all
it's cracked up to be, is that he discovers his
capacity to give and receive love, but without the
inconvenience of being broke. And if his aversion to
the middle class is a
bad thing, how come he gets to take the good part of
it (wife, kids, dog, friends), but leave the tacky
behind? Worse, why should he get a second chance at
Kate when really, he threw her over for his career
ambitions years ago? Jack may have had to rough it for
a few weeks in New Jersey, drinking jug wine and
wearing flannel shirts, but other than that, the
selfishness that led to him losing Kate and thereby
the future he saw in the glimpse, has no consequences.
This film might tout "family values" at one level, and
a pro-middle class message, but on another level,
there is no cost and no sacrifice for Jack. His
willingness to work through Christmas in the beginning
of the film earns him the dubious compliment that he
is a "credit to capitalism." In the end, though, he
appears to deserve that honor even more emphatically.
Jack is truly a credit to capitalism only when he
really has it all: wealth and power, yes, but an
adoring, beautiful wife and the promise of kids to
complete the package, further accouterments of his
success.