Bob Clark’s A Christmas Story is one of those holiday classics that I don’t typically revisit every year, allowing the film to feel fresh every time I do watch it. This tends to let me appreciate new things about the film without ever settling into that familiar rhythm that often occurs with films the you watch over and over again out of habit or tradition. On this viewing, I appreciated the economy of storytelling – especially evident in the bullying subplot. We’re introduced to the bullies in one scene, we’re given manic and sped up encounters throughout the rest of the film, and then we’re shown the final confrontation. It’s a stroke of genius, using these simple cinematic tricks to effectively build up to the final showdown, without letting the entire film get bogged down needlessly by the weight of multiple encounters. This time through, I also loved the relish with which the adult performers throw themselves into the childhood fantasies, and the ways in which the “real life” sequences are tinged with elements of the surreal, showing us this Christmas memory from the vantage point of childhood. There are definitely moments that date the film and show it to be a product of its time, but there’s also a subtle feminist undercurrent that is striking. It’s a charming film, imperfect, but charming nonetheless, and it’s one I’m glad to revisit every few years.