And to all, a good night
On a Christmas special that remains an enduring classic. To me, anyway
One of the downsides of the streaming world is that companies release a new series or movie, which then gets pushed down its various pages and screens as more stuff is released or acquired, and it gets somewhat lost to history. These things end up like weird relics that might get turned up at the bottom of a lengthy scroll or tacked on to the end of a category like British-Sounding American Films of the 90s.
Some years back I stumbled across one of these finds: a Bill Murray Christmas special made for Netflix in 2015. I have since tried to watch A Very Murray Christmas every year, mostly because I feel like it is important to signal to someone at Netflix that is is Good Content. And maybe even to Bill Murray himself. As this is a year-end post with warm and fuzzy feelings, I would like to think that Bill is checking the receipts every December and giving a little fist pump when he sees that a few people are still checking this extremely odd production out.
A Very Murray Christmas is co-written by Murray and Sofia Coppola, and directed by her. The pair worked together on Lost in Translation, which was a huge hit, and I like to think that the two of them were sitting around having cocktails when someone called Murray and asked if he would be willing to do a Netflix holiday special. Then the pair of them cooked up this idea and assumed there was zero chance Netflix would greenlight it. But in 2015, Netflix approved everything, and so A Very Murray Christmas was born. A different kind of immaculate conception.
I don’t want to sell this thing very hard, because I am cognizant of the fact that it is weird. I love it, and it always hits as a blend of touching and hilarious, but, look, you people all have busy lives and I don’t want you to spend an hour watching this thing and resenting me.
The story, such as it is, sees Murray, playing himself, about to host a Christmas special that is being filmed at the legendary Carlyle Hotel in Manhattan. But there is a huge storm, and New York City has been shut down. Murray, despondent, opens by singing Christmas Blues, with Paul Shaffer (of Letterman fame) on the piano. Some desperate attempts are made to stage the special without an audience, and eventually Murray ends up wandering around the hotel lobby and encountering various celebrity guests, some of whom play themselves (Chris Rock) and some of whom do not (Rashida Jones, Amy Poehler, Jason Schwartzman). Songs are sung, and Murray, who is not what you would call a classic vocalist, seems at times to be several drinks in at karaoke night. (I speak from experience on this matter.) At one point Maya Rudolph pops in to belt out Baby (Please Come Home), a version very much close to the Darlene Love classic, in which Rudolph is on the verge of blowing out vocal chords. She really goes for it. Jones and Schwartzman, as a couple whose wedding has been cancelled because of the storm, do a version of Todd Rundgren’s I Saw the Light, which is definitely not a Christmas song, but what the hell.
With everyone having a fun time at the Carlyle now, the gang breaks into Fairytale of New York. Murray then hits his head and there’s an extended dream sequence of sorts with George Clooney and Miley Cyrus. For real. This happened. There is a strong possibility that Clooney lost some sort of wager to Murray, which is how he ended up in a Christmas variety special.
Is there a message in any of this? Not really. I suppose the point might be that people can enjoy themselves on the holidays even if everything doesn’t go to plan, but mostly I think the idea was that Netflix offered Murray a certain amount of money to make a holiday special and he brought some friends along and knocked out some Christmas classics.
And you know what? Good call. Cheers to Bill, and Merry Christmas, everyone.