The Holdovers review: An affecting tale of heartbreak, and quest for healing
Alexander Payne’s film, which won two Golden Globes and is up for five Oscars, shows how culturally diverse, trauma-inflicted individuals become a family over the holiday season
Set in 1970s England, The Holdovers opens with an old logo of Universal Pictures in a 1.66:1 aspect ratio, followed by the opening credits which roll on a grainy screen, typically seen on the cathode ray TV sets popular at the time. Cinematographer Eigil Bryld recreates the ’70s aesthetic with unerring accuracy and inch-perfect set design that looks so deceiving that one feels the film really is set in the ’70s.
A grumpy-looking yet adorable Paul Giamatti plays Paul Hunham, a strict History teacher at England’s Barton Academy. Paul is a man of principle; a staunch advocate of discipline and integrity who wouldn’t dismiss the class a few minutes early even on Christmas. His grades start from C- and go up to D+ (there is even an F+ for those who manage to irk him with his answers).
Paul is so firm in his beliefs that he even failed the son of an influential trustee which drew him the ire of the headmaster. ‘Are we just supposed to let these boys skate by as long as daddy builds a new gymnasium?’ Paul asks the headmaster as he is accused of not favouring an entitled, rich brat.
A home away from home
Come Christmas break, Paul is asked to supervise the students who couldn’t go back home on Christmas break — the holdovers. The five original holdovers are soon down to one, Angus Tully (Dominic Sessa), who couldn’t go on a ski trip with the four kids because his parents couldn’t consent to it. Tully is forced to spend the rest of his break with Paul and Mary Lamb (played by Da’Vine Joy Randolph), the lunch lady whose son died in the Vietnam War.
Each holdover has their own story, ambitions and tales of heartbreak. They’d rather be with someone they love and enjoy a warm Christmas dinner in their comfortable homes than stay in the school infirmary. Much like a 1970s cliché Christmas movie, one would expect The Holdovers to show how these culturally diverse, trauma-inflicted individuals become a family over holidays. But the film isn’t just limited to that.
Paul, Angus and Mary find support in each other — a home away from home, a family not related by blood, but the shared trauma of an adverse situation. We also see each of them pick up pieces of themselves over the Christmas break and nurse their broken hearts.
A meditation on grief and hurts
As the trio spends more time with each other, the skeletons in each of their closets start coming out. Mary is struggling to find happiness on a Christmas break which comes shortly after the death of her 19-year-old son Curtis in the Vietnam War.
The photograph of Mary’s son appears on the screen multiple times at regular intervals; punctuating dramatic scenes; breathing melancholy into an otherwise cheerful narrative. Much like Mary’s grief which gets more pronounced with each scene, Curtis bleeds into each frame almost as if he is asking us not to forget his dream of going to college. His dream is left unfulfilled — a stark reminder of the racial injustice and the wealth disparity in 1970s England.
Randolph embodies Mary’s angst and grief to near perfection. I dare you to hold back your tears when she screams, “He’s gone!” at a Christmas party or when she opens up a box and sets up Christmas stockings for her sister’s baby — his middle name, you ask? Curtis.
The Holdovers accurately portrays the holiday season grief. Navigating the season of cheer when you are hurting while those around you celebrate and expect you to celebrate can be traumatizing. Randolph hits every note possible in her symphony of emotions — sadness, anger, grief and gets you to grieve her loss.
So does Angus Tully, the sole holdover left at the school because his mom is away on honeymoon with his stepfather. It is revealed much later that Angus is struggling with depression and is prescribed Librium for the same. Angus’ biological father is confined to a psychiatric hospital because of his mental health issues.
United by the shared trauma
In a gut-wrenching scene, we see Tully visit his father at the psych ward for Christmas. “They are mixing something in my food,” says his father, who is struggling with paranoid schizophrenia. The look on Angus’ face when he hears those words is devastatingly painful — to see one’s parents lose themselves to mental illness as they slowly become unrecognizable is arguably the most painful thing a child can experience.
“I think she [my mom] sees him when she sees me. What if I end up like him?” Tully asks Paul in a pivotal scene, implying that much like his father, he too could end up with mental illness and he has. It is at this moment that she sees a grumpy-looking Paul Giamatti comfort Tully like a father figure. The two bond over beer, bowling and play father-son to each other.
The film ends with Paul, the teacher who wouldn’t allow a trustee’s ward to pass the exam, lying to protect Tully from getting expelled and losing his job in the process. With a runtime of over 133 minutes, The Holdovers encapsulates the trauma of its three principal characters while also making a case for compassion and solidarity — as each of us suffer and endure the pain of existence, must we suffer in isolation? Must we walk through the dark woods alone?
As the trio heads in different directions post the Christmas break, they aren’t completely healed but somewhat at peace with themselves. Perhaps, that is what The Holdovers is about — finding people who would help you heal parts of yourself over a short Christmas break as you continue your journey through life.
The Holdovers is playing in theatres