Holiday movies are like girl scout cookies; delicious, filling, come ‘round once a year, and usually end with me spooning them in a bed of chocolate and regret. If you’ve never crysturbated to touching melodrama combined with humor, heart, and wit then you’re probably not me (and you’ve probably never watched The Family Stone)… Or been lifetime-banned from Build-A-Bear Workshops nation-wide. Whatever, “family-oriented” hipster douches, what the fuck EVER.
The Family Stone follows Sarah Jessica Parker as Meredith, an uptight, rigid, know-it-all who visits her boyfriend Everett’s (played by the ever-delectable Dermot Mulroney) home for the holidays and gets more than she could’ve ever bargained for as she embarks on a journey of ass, grass and pass (the gravy). Will Meredith have what it takes to survive in the family Stone? Will she triumph in the face of adversity and snarky banter? Will John Mayer ever stop making vaginas explode by his trouty pout alone?
Every one in this festive fiesta flick is a heavy-hitter and they’re not fucking around. The ensemble cast in The Family Stone is what made this movie work (with enough humor, wit, charm, and charisma to power a small fleet of vibrators through a week of heavy use). Orgasms are God’s apology for putting us within arm’s reach of both our family and alcohol during the holidays. But I digress.
There’s not a moment wasted in this Ode to Joy (DID YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE BECAUSE CHRISTMAS) and of all the talent dropping tears like Holiday Hiroshimas, Diane Keaton is an A-List A-Bomb of powerhouse skill and purposeful precision. Keaton lights up the screen with her grace and depth of emotion and could pull tears out of the hardest hearted bastard ever to cock, I mean walk, I mean cock the earth. I mean, I’m about as emotionally constipated as a tiny Kenyan child who’s never seen a vegetable and The Family Stone chokes me up, without fail, every time, like a bondage BDSM shot straight to the heart-place.
I’m almost at a loss for words as to how to describe the resonating feelings that this film drags out of me, and, for a wordy bitch like myself, that’s saying something; considering it usually takes a ball gag and previously-agreed-upon hard limits to achieve the same effect. There’s humor mixed with tragedy mixed with hope and a dash of deviously delightful irreverence, shaken-not-stirred in a yuletide tumbler, and served on a crushed bed of pussy. Because if there’s anything that gets lady-engines revving on all cylinders, its romantic dramedys. And Ron Swanson.
Squeeze a tear or two out and beat those emotionally-charged beavers off with a dick, I mean stick, I mean dick; also, a nod to S.J.P and Rachel McAdams for two of the most genuine and believable character arcs in the film. Keep an eye on Seabiscuit’s hair, Boozers, the looser it gets, the looser your favorite horse-faced hussy gets, too. The Family Stone is the perftit holiday date movie, girl’s night in, or excuse to crysturbate while rubbing Rocky Road on your tits. Allegedly. Writing for a friend.
This film has a clever script, masterfully brought to life by a stellar cast, is everything you could want in a cinematic experience, and is accompanied by a soundtrack that hits all the right notes in all the right places. The Family Stone brought characters I actually gave a fuck about together and perfectly balanced lighthearted fun with the deeper richness and clarity of reflection that the best films inspire in us long after the credits have rolled.
Not only would I fuck The Family Stone, I’d bring it home to mom and chain it in the basement of my heart. Two holiday nips way, way up.
Take a Drink: for every embarrassing, awkward or excruciatingly tense moment. Bring a backup liver.
Do a Shot: each time Seabiscuit puts her hoof in her mouth.
Take a Drink: whenever you have the overwhelming urge to buy Claire Danes a goddamned headband for those bangs.
Take a Sip: for every bathrobe, tear, or clam-digger cough.
Do a Shot: anytime you spy with your little eye a family photo.
Shotgun a Beer: if you get choked up during “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas”. Shotgun Two: if you don’t.