THE HOLDOVERS - Mark Reviews Movies

The Holdovers, Focus Features

Follow on Facebook | Follow on Twitter | Become a Patron

Review by Mark Dujsik | November 2, 2023

A chilly New England in 1970 is the backdrop of The Holdovers, a comedy about three lonely people stuck together at an elite boarding school over the winter holiday break. There's a degree of antagonism here, too, because one of those residents is the school's most hated—and seemingly hateful—teacher, while the other is the best student in the teacher's ancient history class.

The kid manages a high B on the final exam of the semester, which is better than the barely passing or outright failing grades of his classmates. However, it probably gives one a sense about why even the most successful student in this guy's class wouldn't be too pleased to have to spend extra time with him.

All of this is to say that the film appears to be about cold hearts, made colder by the weather and, more importantly, by proximity to each other, and that's certainly the expectation set by the fact of its director. Alexander Payne regularly seems drawn to outcasts and the misanthropes they can become, and Paul Hunham, the history teacher played with cutting precision by Paul Giamatti, seems right up the filmmaker's alley in that regard.

Here's a guy who seems to possess no patience for anyone under the age of 18 and only a little for those above that age. We all likely have known at least one teacher of the category to which Paul belongs. He's an educator who's clearly knowledgeable and passionate about the subject at hand. He's also one who seems bitter to the core that all of that knowledge and passion has found its end in the classroom, filled with year after year of disinterested kids.

Wisely, Giamatti doesn't play this character like some curmudgeonly archetype, though. He's intelligent and more than a bit sad, and if those traits lead him toward having a caustic attitude around just about everything and everyone, that's probably because he's not just teaching at any school. Paul is teaching at this boarding school for kids and teenagers whose parents either have had enough or expect that this elite educational institute will give their privileged kids some kind of confirmation of that privilege. The students might hate Paul because of his reputation and manner (mocking him, in part, for a glass eye that, amusingly, becomes indistinguishable and maybe even interchangeable with the real one). He, though, can't stand them for the same reason, as well.

Paul's the central figure of David Hemingson's screenplay, and he's a great character, played by a great actor who, here, shows an innate sense of how to balance Paul's foul mood with the simple fact that he's also more than a bit pathetic. Watch his awkwardness around Lydia (Carrie Preston), an administrative assistant at the school, when she brings him a plate of Christmas cookies and points out that she only baked them for certain, special faculty members. A guy this innocently overwhelmed by such attention can't be all bad, and as simple as that sounds, the idea becomes the surprisingly warm heart of a film that touches with an equal degree of surprise.

Most of that development belongs to the other two people with whom Paul is stuck at the school. They're Angus (Dominic Sessa, in a startlingly confident debut performance), that B-level student in Paul's class, and Mary (Da'Vine Joy Randolph), the school's head cook. Angus comes across as one of those privileged kids, and he very well might be, if his mother and stepfather's plans for a tropical vacation over the holidays say anything. Like Paul, the teen also has a bad attitude and a biting wit to accompany it, but more importantly and unbeknownst to Paul, Angus is still grieving the death of his father. A teenager going through this, particularly one who helps a younger student through the agony of homesickness and the embarrassment of wetting the bed, can't be all bad, either.

Mary is grieving, too. Her son, an alumnus of the school, was killed in Vietnam this year. None of the condolences or memorials can change how devastated she is and how intrinsically unfair it is for her to be catering to boys whose privilege means their parents will likely never have to worry about their son being in the position in which her own found himself.

In the equation of the dynamic of these characters, Mary serves as a grounding force—a constant reminder that these little conflicts and battles of wits mean nothing in the grand scheme of things. She's also compassionate toward Angus, because she just sees a lonesome kid without his family over the holidays, and Paul, because he's one of the few at the school who bothers to talk to her—a Black woman in this place and at this time—and actively stand up to displays of ignorance and outright prejudice when they're in front of him, in the face of all of this. One has to dig a bit to find such a quality in Paul and Angus, but in Randolph's to-the-point and exposed performance, it's right there from the start.

The film does dig, because, to its great credit, it simply exists to allow us the time to get to know these characters on a deeper level, to witness how these relationships—especially the teacher-student one—evolve with the growth of understanding between them, and to watch these actors uncover all of the nuances within their performances. As unlikely as it may seem at the start, we also grow to genuinely like these people, despite and because of their flaws, weaknesses, and, above all else, aching humanity.

On an almost subconscious level, the period setting helps a lot—not only because there aren't any of the modern distractions that might hinder the material, but also as a reminder that simple comedies about complex characters, not gimmicky premises and outlandish situations, were once more commonplace. The Holdovers is quite funny, as some minor mishaps and misadventures reveal more and more about who these characters are, but the real shock is how genuinely tender and disarmingly warm-hearted it becomes.

Back to Home

Buy Related Products