‘Happiest Season’ (2020) Review

Happiest Season Synopsis: A holiday romantic comedy that captures the range of emotions tied to wanting your family’s acceptance, being true to yourself, and trying not to ruin Christmas.

When her girlfriend Harper (Mackenzie Davis) invites her to accompany her home for Christmas, Abby (Kristen Stewart) soon finds out that Harper has yet to come out to her wealthy, conservative parents, and the entire family is under the impression that Abby is simply Harper’s roommate. Abby reluctantly agrees with the charade as Harper promises to tell her parents everything after the holidays.

Thus begins about 70 minutes of watching Abby awkwardly navigate Harper’s arrogant, rude family with very little help from Harper herself. The only saving grace of the bunch is Jane (Mary Holland), an aspiring author with a lot of love to give and is quite obviously desperate to fit in and be included.

I won’t lie; for most of Happiest Season, I just wanted Abby to call her friend John (an always excellent Dan Levy) to pick her up and take her home. Harper continually blew off Abby, not seeming to grasp that it’s an incredibly shitty thing to do to leave your secret girlfriend alone around a bunch of people she doesn’t know. Harper’s oldest sister Sloane (Alison Brie), is as outwardly bitchy as their mother, Tipper, played by Mary Steenburgen.

Harper’s father, Ted (Victor Garber), is obsessed with image and his candidacy for Mayor, leaving Abby with no one to really talk to but Harper’s ex-girlfriend, Riley (Aubrey Plaza). Given Harper’s crappy behavior and the chemistry between Abby and Riley, I was leaning toward wanting Abby and Riley to end up together. I couldn’t see how Abby could continue to love someone who was not ready for the kind of relationship and commitment Abby wanted. I couldn’t see how Harper could claim to love someone and then treat them so poorly.

Thankfully, Happiest Season didn’t ignore Abby’s painful dilemma or Harper’s cowardice. As John explains to Abby, his coming-out story differs from Abby’s, and Abby’s differs from Harper’s. Revealing one’s true self can be painful and scary, especially for someone who has been raised in a conservative household. This scene between John and Abby was one of my favorites in the movie and, by far, one of the most emotional.

Not only is John helping Abby understand Harper’s fear, but he’s also revealing a part of himself and how hard it was for him after coming out to his unaccepting father. John could have quickly become the stereotypical gay best friend, but he has depth and nuance, and it was such a joy to see.

Despite my intensifying anger at Harper and her entire family, sans Jane, I think Clea DuVall did a magnificent job writing and directing Happiest Season. While Harper’s family had some terrible moments, they weren’t simply one-dimensional antagonists meant to drive a wedge between Harper and Abby. Like John, they, too, had depth and felt like fully realized people. Despite her attitude, you knew Sloane wanted to feel worthy of her parents’ love again.

Harper wanted to make her parents proud. Jane just wanted to be acknowledged. Ted and Tipper were too obsessed with perfection and image to understand the damage they inflicted upon their daughters, intentionally or not. Of course, these issues are dealt with, and while it’s hard to imagine everything being fixed in one evening, you do understand healing and acceptance can happen. DuVall took what could have been unredeemable characters and made me sympathize and even understand them on some level, and that takes talent.

Happiest Season isn’t flawless, but it’s an enjoyable, endearing holiday rom-dramedy with wonderful LGBTQ representation.

Watched: 11/25/2020
Notable Song: Make You Mine This Season by Tegan and Sara