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“Looks, talent, brains, Hartnett’s got it all!” reads the poster, which has seemingly been ripped from a Teen Beat. None of the men are remotely recognizable, save for one large central photo of 1998’s hottest bachelor, Joshua D.
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The tour concludes in Harper’s old bedroom, where her kooky sister, Jane (Mary Holland), wrenches open Harper’s closet door to reveal a series of pasted-up photos of various nondescript hunks. Early on, Harper’s uptight mom (Mary Steenburgen) is showing Abby (whom she believes to be Harper’s “orphan roommate”) around their home, the sort of stately redbrick manse that is a requirement for all Christmas-movie families. But there’s one (arguably, but not actually … you’ll see) low-key gay moment that struck me as particularly inspired on DuVall’s part. Most of Happiest Season is high-key gay in that it centers on two lesbians making out in a basement in secret. Even he would be like, “… okay, NICE.”īut I digress. I don’t care if your dad is a megachurch pastor. I don’t want to minimize anyone’s struggle, but I have to believe there is no family on earth that would be upset to learn one of its constituents is dating Kristen Stewart. In the process, she nearly alienates Stewart. My only real quibble with the film is its central plot point: Davis’s Harper is too scared to tell her conservative family that she’s gay and dating Stewart’s Abby. Which is why I was relieved when Happiest Season turned out not only to be cute and heartwarming but also to feature Kristen Stewart in a low-cut tuxedo and an undone tie and let her walk around drunk for a while.
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As a queer Jewish woman obsessed with both Christmas and Kristen Stewart, this movie felt tailored to me specifically its failure would, not to be gay, ruin my life. Which is why I was equal parts terrified and thrilled when I heard about Clea DuVall’s Happiest Season, an attempt to elevate the genre by doing what everyone should have been doing all along: making it gay and centering it on a bleached-blonde Kristen Stewart desperate to propose to her tall girlfriend, Mackenzie Davis. For every The Holiday, there is a Holidate for every The Family Stone, there is a Love the Coopers and so on forever. Its innumerable entries fail far more often than they succeed, usually in attempts to re-create the rare triumph of a predecessor. The Christmas rom-com is a delicate genre. Photo-Illustration: Vulture and Getty Images