Chicago, November 10, 1990. Home Alone debuted, quietly sneaking its way into Christmas tradition. That night, while some were out shopping, others were watching what would become a holiday classic, and I was still sleeping in my crib. But it wasn't long before I, like so many others, would discover Home Alone as more than just a film; it would become a mirror of who I am.
Directed by Chris Columbus, whose later hits include the Harry Potter films, Mrs. Doubtfire, and Stepmom, Home Alone stands as his breakout moment. Coming off lighter fare like Adventures in Babysitting, Columbus hit his stride here, thanks to a script from the legendary John Hughes, who clearly chose the right filmmaker to bring his holiday vision to life.
At its center is Macaulay Culkin, a young star already familiar to audiences, facing off against Joe Pesci and Daniel Stern as two bumbling robbers. Culkin’s Kevin McCallister, left behind in a massive family mix-up, seizes the moment, imagining himself as the King of Christmas—until he realizes he's got intruders to contend with. The ensuing chaos of slapstick traps and pranks is unforgettable, but it’s easy to overlook the film as just another holiday comedy.
Home Alone goes beyond slapstick; it taps into something deeper. Haven’t we all, at some holiday or special occasion, felt ignored or underappreciated? That’s where Home Alone shines: Kevin's journey reflects the universal need to be seen and loved. Even today, 34 years later, the film resonates, stirring feelings that make us think, “Yeah...he earned that paint bucket to the head.”
This might be a short review for such an iconic film, but perhaps that’s fitting. Holiday movies, after all, are about capturing a feeling in brief, warm moments, and that’s precisely what Home Alone has done for decades.
Jacob Scheer