It’s the 22nd of December – Christmas eve eve eve and gravy day’s boxing day.

Yesterday – Gravy Day – was a day I cherish annually the relief of a Christmas carol that surrenders the bells and tinsel for just a second. It embraces mess and humanness to the poignant and wrenching backdrop of what we always strive to make sure is such a happy time. Paul Kelly’s How to Make Gravy gives us a Christmas Story that isn’t quite Tom Hansky, Tim Alleny or Macauley Culkiney. It’s honest and gritty and impels us to hold our family close – if not in so many words, maybe just in our imaginations – no matter the disfunction and chaos that may sometimes get in our way.

And I tell you what, I’m a sucker for the suggestion of Christmas as a backdrop. A movie or a song that is Christmas adjacent, a little more subliminal in the way it floods you with a surreptitious eggnoggy warmth.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas-with-a-capital-C-movies as much as the next person. I’ll quote Juju’s line about angel wings every time I hear a bell ring from late November. I’ll buy someone a shitty present and tell them, “One man’s trash is another man’s pot pouris… I don’t know, some kinda soap,” with my very best Grinch impression. I’ll weep over Both Sides Now as Emma Thompson pulls herself together to take the family to the school’s nativity.

But I am a huge fan of that slow and sinking feeling into the most wonderful time of the year: a story where believing in something hard to grapple with takes a backseat and we get to enjoy some honest to god, subtle truth and warmth. Over the years I’ve curated some festive classics that are perfect for the warm up or cooling off days surrounding Christmas when the tinsel of it all is feeling just a little intangible. Here’s a stocking filler sized selection of them for you. Enjoy!

The Apartment (1960)

Billy Wilder – or Daddy of the Modern Rom Com – is responsible for this instant classic, starring Shirley MacLaine and Jack Lemmon. The drama unfolds at a godless Christmas party in an era of the American dream when all top dog men were executives and they all had NYC corner offices and secretaries (read: mistresses). It’s the story of the sweet underdog Jack Lemmon, a workhorse at the bottom of the ladder, who has fumbled his way into a complicated scheme to buy himself some favours. The script is delicious and intoxicating, and the charm from these two leading cinematic greats will make you fall in love again every time. It’s refreshing to see a 1960 heroine so vulnerable and self possessing at the same time, in a story so delicately peppered with the comedy two people can honestly share between them as they fall into trouble and into love.

For lovers of carnations, booths at tiki bars, the utility of a tennis racket, and secrets, this movie is best paired with a game of gin rummy by the firelight with hearty homemade spaghetti meatballs.

All of The Bear but crucially for The Fishes: flashback episode to a family Christmas years earlier. (2022-)

The Bear is a remarkable achievement, and its magnum opus is the Berzatto Family Christmas special. We get brilliant cameo appearances from John Mulaney, Bob Odenkirk, Sarah Paulson, and Gillian Jacobs who help us flesh out the already magnificently woven tapestry of the Berzatto Family Traumas with dialogue that errs from caustic and aggravated to jubilant and intimate. But I gotta say, it’s all elevated by a breathtaking and heartbreaking performance from Her Majesty Jaime Lee Curtis – showcased in her true prime. Every wrinkle within every wince from her raw, messy and volatile performance evoked something painfully familiar. She plays the nuance of someone who aches both loudly and quietly, who is both seen and neglected. The Bear’s brand has been food and chaos centric since its inception, and it feels like the snapshot outside of regular programming – a feast in of the Seven Fishes inside a home of lost-and-found-family – is what it’s been building toward. The writing is pregnant with subtext, answering questions about things we’ve always wondered without saying much and with plenty of yelling; many of those dialogues built of the misapprehensions that boil over in a family crucible when the pressure gets to be too much. There’s food on the floor, there’s sauce on the stove and there are tablespoons of butter under Jamie Lee Curtis’s acrylic nails. It’s wild, breathless, vibrant and violent and it’s a heroic attempt leaving its characters feeling more or less understood.

For lovers of seven different types of seafood in one sitting, always having room for dessert and taking incremental breaks from a family occasion outside in the cold on the stoop. Best paired with a shiraz that you plan to share with a ragu, and the new year’s resolution to unpack your family trauma with a therapist.

While You Were Sleeping (1995)

This movie is a quiet triumph that spotlights Sandra Bullock at her most charming. A rewatch of this film feels like the pull of a big old cardigan around your shoulders. It’s essentially a story about loneliness, and nothing highlights that quite like the holidays. When an earnest Sandra Bullock finds herself in an almost harmless web of lies, and spending Christmas with the first family who have ever welcomed her in, an inconsequential friendship burgeons between Sandra and Bill Pullman, the brother of the man in a coma to whom Sandra purports she’s engaged. The lofty premise aside, the movie is stitched together like a quilt of soft, everyday, comfortable moments juxtaposing the little life she’s got in Chicago against some dreams of travel that just might never happen for her. I watched this at a sleepover recently and the viewing experience was littered with squeals of delight, and I more than once teared up at a shot of Sandra just being a little lonely or kind. It stokes the fire of the importance of family without any philosophical or reaching references to angels.

For lovers of public transport infrastructure (you’re welcome, Dulcie), a thoughtful family secret Santa game, and the grandfather figure in your life. Best paired with your grandmother’s homemade crocheted rug on a generations-old estate-sourced well loved couch.

Bridget Jones’ Diary (2001)

Bookended by two softly Christmassy scenes – starring a reindeer jumper and then a kiss in the snow at either end – Bridget Jones is verifiably meant to be watched in December (and also every other month of the year). It’s the warmest hug: a woman feeling inadequate and like she’s running out of time, chronicling her hopes and goals in a diary that spends the year filling itself with the humdrum wonders of London life. Embarrassing jobs that lead to meagre acclaim, boozy dinners with a troop of best friends in clouds of indoor cigarette smoke, tedious mandatory family occasions, and the love triangle of the century. After watching this again last week, I was astonished at how tight the screenplay is: every witty retort, every background shot of a running joke threads together some characters who are open to being known and loved by us. That’s the Richard Curtis magic, I guess, and it’s perfect for when the elevated proclamations of Love Actually have become a bit too predictable because you’ve watched it too many bloody times.

For lovers of marmalade, Celine Dion, mini breaks out of the city and suburban Greek restaurants. Best paired with an ensemble of ride-or-die friends who each hold a distinct role in your dynamic, a bottle of wine you plan on finishing after opening, and an omelette thrown together with whatever’s left in the fridge.

Dash and Lily (2020)

While this is very on-the-rudolf’s-red-nose, something about the retelling of a story I loved SO MUCH in its book form as a teen, seems to take us out of the conventional Christmas spaces and tropes we’ve grown so familiar with. It takes a Christmas lover and a cynical contender growing into themselves and growing up during an emotionally pungent holiday that neither of them can seem to bear the loneliness of. This adaptation enjoys New York and lovingly mocks the city’s frivolousness, decks its soundtrack with offbeat classics (this is how I finally fell head over heels for the Pogues), and spends ample of its adventure-style narrative diving into alternative festive traditions – Japanese ceremonies and underground Jewish raves. The show is a mature yet whimsical look at teenagers, young love and learning to understand yourself, embracing themes of belief that have been refreshingly separated from tired tropes.

For lovers of dares, friendships with decades long age gaps, drag queen guardian angels and quirky op shop finds. Best paired with intrepid experiences in your home city, and psyching yourself up to wear the sparkly party dress you’ve always been too embarrassed to try.

Something From Tiffany’s (2022)

This one surprised me – I watched it last year expecting to not last thirty minutes, well aware of how straight-to-TV-Christmas-rom-coms are produced for fickle and lazy audiences. But this Amazon and Hello Sunshine collaboration caught some of that Reece Witherspoon magic – if not across the board, it set alight some few key elements to let me fall almost completely in love. The clunky switch up premise is handled deftly, as the movie moves at a “catch your breath” pace through moments that would have otherwise been heralded as capital T Twists. The heart of the story is knitted together by two protagonists with a love for the magic of NYC reminiscent of the way Norah Ephron writes about the Apthorp, and I can’t help but suspect that naming the Jewish baker protagonist Rachel with a religious relationship to cornettis is any sort of coincidence (ahem, heartburn). The script sometimes feels overblown and overexplained but it’s handled with charm by Zoey Deutch’s breezy charisma and quintessential beauty, fleshing out the performance with more story than the writing sometimes offers. The style is heavenly, with thoughtfully designed photography, set decoration and costume elevating the scrumptiousness (with another self aware nod to a Christmas sweater that mimics Mark Darcy’s almost exactly…). The last thing that seems to tie it together so neatly is the soundtrack – slick and meaningful without any obvious nods to the December holidays balancing the Temptations with LCD Soundsystem.

For lovers of Italian desserts, Tiffany blue and the New York City skyline. Best paired with a brand new cookbook into unchartered culinary territory, and someone else to do the washing up.