The Visible Magic of Asking "Why?"
A Contemporary History Approach to Klaus (2019)
[Contains spoilers]
Klaus (2019) – Contemporary History
Merry Christmas, my dear ones!
I am taking Christmassy creative license to review one of my all-time favourite Christmas films (if not films in general) and break out of the 20th century for a sec: Sergio Pablos’s Klaus (2019). The Review Roulette wheel also turned up Contemporary History again, and normally I wouldn’t do the same lens back-to-back, and it is a film from only four years ago, so the history is still our moment really, but I think there’s a truly important message to discuss here and I want to get to it. So super casual, short and sweet, let’s go.
I am going to try very hard not to spoil this film because I do think a lot of the magic is in having it revealed to you on screen, especially with this film. So, if you haven’t seen Klaus, I implore you to stop reading right now and go watch it. This review will be here when you get back.
[Intermission]
I expect you loved it and are overjoyed with the film, so giddy and emotional at the hand-drawn beauty in the film, the way Sergio Pablos actually animates magic, makes that magic visible. And you are reading this through blurry eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks, lip quivering. Or you’ve no interest and I am going to try to sell you on it right now.
Klaus is one of the only truly original origin stories about Santa Claus on screen. The Santa Clause franchise has an interesting spin on the origin of Santa but most films about the big guy glide over how he came to be Him. Klaus is entirely about it, creating one of the most beautiful and organic mythologies I’ve ever heard (and I have two degrees in Classics, MPhil thesis on mythological demons in the ancient Mediterranean world – I’ve read and/or translated a lot of them).
So, I want to focus on one particular aspect of the film that I think speaks to our moment and it’s the ways in which the film says repeatedly that education and children are the only way forward. The US is and has been in a period of anti-intellectualism, anti-education, and anti-expert for most of the 21st century at least. Our trust in science has declined, our schools have been astronomically defunded, and our children are being raised in extreme social polarisation driven by the political. These are not biased opinions; these are just factual observations of the trends in our schools in the last two decades.
What Klaus does is meet that moment and have a child practically say, to paraphrase, “actually, genuinely, be so for real right now, why are we so polarised?” Why are the two families living on the island at war? Why would these families allow their community to be polluted, their children to be raised with hate in their hearts, their homes to become dilapidated and borderline unliveable due to booby traps and constant attacks? A small, innocent child asks “why?” And in response, the head of one of the warring clans, Mrs. Krum (Joan Cusack), says “tradition”, “heritage”, it’s always been that way so don’t question it, just hate them.
And that’s not good enough for the child who has received a gift from Klaus (J. K. Simmons) and Jesper the postman (Jason Schwartzman). This kid has experienced a kind act for the first time in his little life because he expressed his emotions in the only way he knew how, by drawing himself locked in his tower-like home surrounded by sharp spikes and bear traps. He shared his toy and his kindness with other kids and encouraged them to write to Klaus too. The building of a new tradition grounded in children’s belief in things they had never experienced before, hope and joy and generosity, has ripple effects just like the traditions of hate and grudges.
As the mythology begins to grow about Klaus, the children of the island beg the schoolteacher, Alva (Rashida Jones), to teach them how to write their names. One little girl is in full awe of herself after writing her name and cannot contain her excitement when she begs to learn more. Eventually, this ripple inspires Alva, who had become a fishmonger as, in her words, she “took a teaching job at a place where people don’t send their kids to school” and was saving up to get off the island, to invest her savings in the schoolhouse and the children who are attending of their own volition.
These elements of the film point so rightly to the fact that our future is in the hands of the youngest generations and that it is up to us to foster the right environment in which they can flourish. They are the leaders of tomorrow, but they can also be the leaders of today if we allow them to tell us what they need, to express their perspectives, and to explore education to answer their overwhelming questions of “why is it like this?” In this current 2023 moment, Klaus is so painfully on the nose, even more so than in years past, as so many parents and school boards are deciding children should learn less or not even go to school for fear they might learn something that challenges the parents’ hateful ideologies.
There are countless examples of youth movements on all sorts of issues, most notably climate action but also gun control to stop school shootings, gender equality, and most recently a vast mobilisation of pro-Palestinian youths who are seeing the death and terror and trauma in the world and demanding that it stop. The children in Klaus reform the entire island and lead the adults by example, challenging them to be kinder to one another, forget the blood feud, and nurture a community of beauty, light, and prosperity. Many Christmas films use the trope of the innocence of a child or a child-like belief to make their points, but Klaus takes it a step further and says, “what if we didn’t belittle the child-like belief as a sweet, innocent, uninformed stance and instead educated that young person and allowed them to choose what kind of world they wanted to live in as inspired by their profound innocence?” These youngest kids hadn’t been fully indoctrinated into the hate, they didn’t embody the worst of their cultural heritage yet, so with some education and some encouragement to be good and kind, they completely transformed not only their young lives but that of every single person on the island too.
This doesn't start as altruism. There is an incentive (receiving a gift from Klaus) that sparks this movement to choose a more inclusive world, but once the adults start to change after taking the children's lead and everyone sees the kind of community they can live in by not blindly following a tradition of hate and anger without even a true cause, the better life becomes the incentive. The selflessness and kindness of the gift from Klaus were the catalyst for change. A sentiment repeated throughout the film is “a true selfless act always sparks another.”
Pablos gave us such a beautiful and timely gift in Klaus by empowering children and highlighting the importance of education, showing what horrible things can happen when there is none to speak of in a community and what beauty can come from learning. I really, really love this film, and I highly recommend it to anyone interested in a truly original, funny, aesthetically and emotionally stunning film for Christmas.
A Quick Christmassy Note
Thank you all for being here with me and spending 5-10 minutes a week reading my thoughts and reflections and critical assessments of films you may have never even seen. It truly means worlds to me, and I hope they bring a bit of joy or humour or emotion or intrigue to your days. I hope you have the merriest holiday seasons and, to those celebrating, merry Christmas! To those not celebrating, I hope you have a wonderful week and find a moment to embrace a loved one in whatever way that means to you.
Because I’m Never Done When I Say I Am
Formalist
This film is hand-drawn. We hardly ever get completely hand-drawn films anymore and it’s a travesty because 2D films can be so drop-dead gorgeous. A healthy mix of different animating styles would be a wonderful thing to invest in in the film industry. While deciding this film must be hand-drawn, Pablos was adamant that it would not be enough to return to 2D animation, as that had for some time been a vehicle for nostalgia (think the style in Disney’s The Princess and the Frog (2009) as purposely reminiscent of older Disney Princess films). He knew that Klaus had to be innovative to prove itself, so Pablos used volumetric lighting and colour (3D techniques) to enhance the 2D animation. Like a GENIUS. He stuck to his passion on this project and developed a beautiful film with exciting and extreme technical skill and we should all thank him regularly for giving us such a perfect story.