By Travis Trombley | |
Let’s start with a little audience participation. Raise your hand if you watch Die Hard at least once a year? Keep that hand raised if at least one of those viewing traditionally occurs around this time of year, along with other seasonal classics like Scrooged and National Lampoon's: Christmas Vacation?
Now put your hand down - you look ridiculous.
If you’re like me, then every holiday season you have to justify Die Hard’s categorization as a Christmas movie. That the film takes place on Christmas Eve or that John McClane’s wife is named Holly doesn’t seem enough to convince the doubters. And, let’s be real, a coincidence of timing alone does not a Christmas movie make.
Fortunately for us believers, among the many cultural and genre critiques housed within this action film classic rests a subtle commentary on Christmas consumerism that can, once and for all, allow us to claim with certainty this proud holiday tradition. It’s a commentary embodied by the film’s chief antagonist, the delightfully swarmy Hans Gruber, played by the late Alan Rickman, aka Severus Snape.
To quickly recap, Hans and his band of German terrorists commandeer an office Christmas party at the Takegami cooperation under the auspices of teaching them “a lesson in the real use of power” as a consequence for their “legacy of greed around the globe.” In his introduction to his hostages and us, Hans presents himself as a radical - an international terrorists operating in the name of an ideology.
But of course, this is just a front. As Holly later points out, despite all his posturing and speeches, he’s nothing more than a “common thief” chasing a big score. The only offense Hans takes at this indictment is the word common: “I’m an exceptional thief,” he says. Hans adopts the extremist mask as a ruse to later fool the FBI. To buy time and sew confusion, he demands that certain “revolutionary brothers and sisters” from various extremist groups from around the world “be released from their captors.”
Now put your hand down - you look ridiculous.
If you’re like me, then every holiday season you have to justify Die Hard’s categorization as a Christmas movie. That the film takes place on Christmas Eve or that John McClane’s wife is named Holly doesn’t seem enough to convince the doubters. And, let’s be real, a coincidence of timing alone does not a Christmas movie make.
Fortunately for us believers, among the many cultural and genre critiques housed within this action film classic rests a subtle commentary on Christmas consumerism that can, once and for all, allow us to claim with certainty this proud holiday tradition. It’s a commentary embodied by the film’s chief antagonist, the delightfully swarmy Hans Gruber, played by the late Alan Rickman, aka Severus Snape.
To quickly recap, Hans and his band of German terrorists commandeer an office Christmas party at the Takegami cooperation under the auspices of teaching them “a lesson in the real use of power” as a consequence for their “legacy of greed around the globe.” In his introduction to his hostages and us, Hans presents himself as a radical - an international terrorists operating in the name of an ideology.
But of course, this is just a front. As Holly later points out, despite all his posturing and speeches, he’s nothing more than a “common thief” chasing a big score. The only offense Hans takes at this indictment is the word common: “I’m an exceptional thief,” he says. Hans adopts the extremist mask as a ruse to later fool the FBI. To buy time and sew confusion, he demands that certain “revolutionary brothers and sisters” from various extremist groups from around the world “be released from their captors.”
His rhetoric appears convincing, but Hans has no affiliation with the people he mentions. His duplicity is made clear when his colleague questions the identity of one of the groups listed, and Hans quietly responds, “I read about them in Time.” Unlike Gary Oldman’s similar take on the swarmy, extremist villain in Air Force One, Hans uses the terrorism schtick as a means to money. His goal is simple: to “sit on a beach earning 20%.”
In this deceit rests Die Hard’s Christmas commentary. One could read it as an indictment of the consumeristic culture that defines, for many, the holiday season. Beneath the altruistic wrapping paper is a gift materialistic in nature.
One could argue that, despite the pomp of charity, our consumerist culture has twisted the entire month of December into a frenzied celebration of “stuff.” Specifically, the giving and receiving of “stuff.” Or more specifically than that, the giving of stuff to merit the reception of stuff desired.
Few would be able to deny the hedonistic calculus that can go into Christmas shopping: “How much can I spend on each person with the hope of getting a return on that investment?” Or how about the feeling of disappointment you may feel upon opening an underwhelming gift, or not unwrapping something you wanted. That disappointment is the result of expectation, and that expectation betrays mindset.
Some might say that. I recognize that I’m stretching here, people.
It's into this climate that Die Hard presents to us a villain who embraces his greed while recognizing the benefits of playing the game, and in so doing represents the dual nature of Christmas: charity and materialism, the former a facade for the latter.
But of course, we know how this ends for Hans, bested by a shoeless cop with the gall and wherewithal to put up with a night of Hans’ bullshit. It’s telling that he isn’t an altruistic superhero, but a cop in tough spot doing what he can to keep his wife safe.
Maybe there’s something there for us, too. The secret to Christmas isn’t nobility, but gritting your teeth, stepping on some glass, and talking to yourself a little bit until it’s all over.
Yippie ki yay and merry Christmas.
In this deceit rests Die Hard’s Christmas commentary. One could read it as an indictment of the consumeristic culture that defines, for many, the holiday season. Beneath the altruistic wrapping paper is a gift materialistic in nature.
One could argue that, despite the pomp of charity, our consumerist culture has twisted the entire month of December into a frenzied celebration of “stuff.” Specifically, the giving and receiving of “stuff.” Or more specifically than that, the giving of stuff to merit the reception of stuff desired.
Few would be able to deny the hedonistic calculus that can go into Christmas shopping: “How much can I spend on each person with the hope of getting a return on that investment?” Or how about the feeling of disappointment you may feel upon opening an underwhelming gift, or not unwrapping something you wanted. That disappointment is the result of expectation, and that expectation betrays mindset.
Some might say that. I recognize that I’m stretching here, people.
It's into this climate that Die Hard presents to us a villain who embraces his greed while recognizing the benefits of playing the game, and in so doing represents the dual nature of Christmas: charity and materialism, the former a facade for the latter.
But of course, we know how this ends for Hans, bested by a shoeless cop with the gall and wherewithal to put up with a night of Hans’ bullshit. It’s telling that he isn’t an altruistic superhero, but a cop in tough spot doing what he can to keep his wife safe.
Maybe there’s something there for us, too. The secret to Christmas isn’t nobility, but gritting your teeth, stepping on some glass, and talking to yourself a little bit until it’s all over.
Yippie ki yay and merry Christmas.