A Christmas Shining.
Alexander Payne’s The Holdovers is a quietly moving and profoundly human story about connection, loss, and the ways people can find family in the unlikeliest of places. Set in 1970 at Barton Academy, a prestigious New England boarding school, the film unfurls over the Christmas break, when a handful of students are left behind for the holidays. What emerges is a poignant and often unexpectedly funny exploration of loneliness and redemption, beautifully anchored by Paul Giamatti in one of the finest performances of his career.
Giamatti stars as Paul Hunham, a cantankerous and deeply unpopular teacher tasked with supervising the “holdovers”—the students who, for one reason or another, aren’t going home for Christmas. His main charge is Angus (Dominic Sessa), a bright but troubled boy struggling with the recent loss of his father and the weight of his own insecurities. Over the course of the break, the pair are joined by Mary (Da’Vine Joy Randolph), the school’s kind-hearted head cook, who is grieving the loss of her own son. Together, this unlikely trio forms a bond that cuts through their shared grief and mutual exasperation, creating something quietly transformative.
Giamatti delivers a masterclass in subtlety and complexity as Hunham. His portrayal balances the character’s sharp wit and gruff exterior with glimpses of vulnerability, revealing a man whose cynicism masks deep regret and unfulfilled potential. Newcomer Dominic Sessa matches him beat for beat, bringing Angus to life with a mix of teenage bravado and raw emotional vulnerability. Da’Vine Joy Randolph’s Mary provides the film with its emotional centre, her warmth and resilience a counterpoint to the prickliness of her companions.
The screenplay, penned by David Hemingson, deftly blends dry humour with heartfelt drama. The dialogue crackles with wit, capturing the rhythms of sharp-tongued banter without ever feeling forced or contrived. At the same time, the script allows room for moments of quiet introspection, letting the characters’ silences speak volumes.
The setting—a snow-covered, nearly empty boarding school—lends the film an atmospheric intimacy that feels both timeless and nostalgic. The cinematography by Eigil Bryld is understated yet evocative, bringing to mind Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining in its use of the vast, empty spaces. However, where the Overlook Hotel’s isolation carried an ominous and corrupting presence, here the emptiness fosters a more benign and ultimately benevolent transformation. Bryld frames the vastness of the school’s Gothic architecture against the smaller, more personal moments unfolding within its walls. This contrast mirrors the characters’ journeys, their private struggles set against the backdrop of larger societal changes in the early 1970s.
What makes The Holdovers truly special is its ability to balance themes of grief and loneliness with a genuine sense of hope. Payne’s direction imbues the film with warmth, refusing to shy away from the messiness of human relationships but never letting despair overshadow the story. By the time the credits roll, The Holdovers has delivered a narrative that feels both deeply personal and universally resonant—a reminder of the connections that can sustain us even in the darkest of times.
The Holdovers isn’t a film that’s aiming for grandiose drama or sweeping catharsis. Instead, it finds beauty in the quieter moments: a shared meal, a hard-won smile, an unexpected act of kindness. The Holdovers feels like the cinematic equivalent of a well-worn novel you return to again and again—rich in detail, brimming with heart, and quietly life-affirming. It’s a gift of a film, one that lingers long after the snow has melted and the holidays have passed.
