“There’s nothing more chilling than a warm family gathering.”
A Flashback to the 1970s: ABC Movie of the Week:
Even now, when I hear that iconic theme music from the ABC Movie of the Week, I can’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia wash over me, like a warm hug from a long-lost friend who just walked in wearing bell-bottoms and a tie-dye shirt. It’s like my heart does a little happy dance, reminding me of those cozy nights I spent rapt by the TV, ready for whatever wild ride the network had in store.
Growing up in the 70s, I was drawn to its unique vibe; who wouldn’t get misty-eyed thinking about the sheer joy of watching a made-for-TV movie? Those were the days when that format was our portal to adventure, and that theme music was the soundtrack to our childhood dreams!
I often love reflecting on those days – the groovy vibes of the 1970s when the ABC Movie of the Week burst onto the scene, pulling you into its orbit. Launched in 1969 as a bold move to jazz up ABC’s lineup, this anthology series became a cultural phenomenon, delivering a fresh, funky mix of drama, suspense, and heartwarming stories that kept viewers like me glued to their couches.
With its vibrant opening theme and a mosaic of original films, the series kicked off with Seven in Darkness, a gripping tale of survival that set the tone for the creative magic to come. Each week brought a range of unique offerings, from the nail-biting tension of Duel, directed by the visionary Steven Spielberg, to the heartfelt camaraderie of Brian’s Song, which touched us on such a deeply emotional level.
The ABC Movie of the Week was more than just entertainment; it was a cultural touchstone that launched the careers of iconic actors and filmmakers, all while capturing the spirit of an era defined by bold experimentation and social change. With unforgettable stories and a flair for the dramatic, this series left an indelible mark on the fabric of television, making it a true classic of the 70s that still resonates today.
The landscape of 1970s television was rich and varied, featuring everything from soap operas and detective dramas to family sitcoms and supernatural thrillers. This era was characterized by a diverse array of genres, from groundbreaking sitcoms and gripping dramas to whimsical variety shows and thrilling action series. Shows like All in the Family, Mash, Columbo, and The Rockford Files captivated viewers with their clever plots and charismatic actors. They not only reflected the zeitgeist of the era but also influenced future generations of storytelling on screen.
The legendary Aaron Spelling contributed his vision to American television in a big way. He left a legacy as a producer known for creating some of the most unique made for tv movies chillers like Curtis Harrington’s How Awful About Allan 1970 and Satan’s School for Girls 1973 and iconic shows of the 1970s and beyond, including Charlie’s Angels, Dynasty, and Beverly Hills, 90210. With a career spanning over five decades, he holds the Guinness World Record for the most prolific television producer, crafting a staggering 4,300 hours of programming that defined the landscape of American pop culture.
Thanks so much, Gil of Realweegiemidgetreviews, for hosting this wonderful blogathon and giving me a chance once again to feel the groovy sense of nostalgia during my New York summer heatwave with this little chilly holiday tale of family fights and frights!
Originally aired on November 28, 1972. Home For the Holidays is an Aaron Spelling/Leonard Goldberg co-production that debuted as part of ABC’s long-running Movie of the Week series.
Home For the Holidays is a proto-slasher that predates notable slasher classics like Bob Clark’s Black Christmas (1974) by several years, marking it as a significant forerunner in the American slasher genre.
Celebrated as a cornerstone of the slasher genre, Bob Clark’s Black Christmas from 1974 rightfully garners much acclaim for setting off this sub-genre of horror films. However, it’s essential not to overlook the 1972 Home for the Holidays tele-slasher that paved the way for the ‘seasonal’ horror subgenre. Alongside it, films that shared the year 1980 Christmas Evil and To All a Goodnight contribute to this intriguing category, offering a delightful mix of low-budget charm, corny, splendid trashbin of clichés. And let’s not forget Silent Night, Deadly Night from 1984, which further enriches this eclectic collection of holiday-themed terror. For a Christmas tele-fright without snow, the film tends toward lightning attacks and histrionics. Conversations are marked by the roar of thunder and sharp screams.
In this heavy holiday setting, as the sisters reunite, the atmosphere is thick with unspoken tension and unresolved pain. Each daughter carries the weight of their shared history, shaped by the shadow of their mother’s tragic death and their father Benjamin Morgan’s cold demeanor. Now a frail figure, he seems to harbor suspicions about his second wife, Elizabeth (Julie Harris), whom he believes may be plotting against him. The sisters are drawn into a web of familial strife, where old wounds are reopened, and secrets threaten to surface.
In the atmospheric made-for-TV movie Home for the Holidays, the holiday spirit turns sinister when the wealthy patriarch, Benjamin Morgan, lies on his deathbed, summoning his estranged daughters back to their family estate for Christmas. The Morgan sisters reluctantly return to their childhood home for the reunion with their father. The four left home in the wake of their mother’s death.
The looming danger surrounding a collection of characters stranded during a storm has the feel of an Agatha Christie whodunit mystery.
After their mother’s tragic suicide, their father remarried a local woman, Elizabeth Hill Morgan.
As the sisters reunite, rain washes the world outside the Morgan estate; the once-cherished home becomes a crucible of tension, unresolved grievances, and dark familial discord.
All four daughters—each bearing the weight of their own troubled pasts—arrive, bringing with them a knot of emotions ranging from innocent nostalgia to bitterness. The eldest, a no-nonsense businesswoman, clashes with her free-spirited sister, while the youngest, still reeling from her recent heartbreak, struggles to find her place among the formidable personalities.
The holiday mis-cheer escalates into a suspenseful and deadly game as the sisters find themselves targeted by a mysterious killer, all while grappling with their complicated family dynamics and the dark secrets that surface during their holiday gathering.
Benjamin Morgan’s longing for a male heir casts a pall over his daughters, an unshakable cloud of disappointment that seeps into their very names. Hidden within each sister’s moniker lies a masculine alter ego, a constant reminder of what could have been – Freddie, Jo, Alex, and Chris. This clever naming trick serves as a daily dose of guilt, a subtle but persistent nod to their father’s unfulfilled wishes.
Their reunion is overshadowed by their father’s ominous suspicions regarding his much younger second wife, Elizabeth, a woman shrouded in mystery and rumored to have a dark past.
Tensions rise when the daughters, now together again, consider the gossip surrounding Elizabeth, who had been previously accused of murdering her first husband.
As the festive decorations contrast sharply with the growing unease, and the family dynamics aren’t tense enough, the patriarch of the family, having remarried Elizabeth so soon after their mother’s suicide, drops a bombshell and reveals his chilling suspicion that she is gradually poisoning him.
Despite their strained relationship with him, Alex, the eldest sister, suspects there might be some truth to his claims and insists on staying to investigate.
The atmosphere lends itself to paranoia as the sisters struggle with the unsettling idea that they may be not only battling their own familial demons but also a potential murderer prowling within their midst. Tensions escalate when they uncover Elizabeth’s previous marriage, marred by tragedy and the local’s whispers of foul play.
With each passing hour, the holiday is eclipsed by a palpable sense of dread. What might have been a cozy Morgan gathering becomes frantic with verbal exchanges about trust and betrayal. As secrets unravel and alliances shift, the sisters must confront not only the specter of their father’s impending death but also the very real lurking threat.
Outside, a brutal winter rain storm howls, severing all lines of communication and stranding the family. As the storm intensifies, they find themselves hunted by a mysterious killer in a yellow raincoat and red wellies wielding a pitchfork, transforming their holiday gathering into a chilling fight for survival. All four women despise their father and ignore his allegations, yet Alex suspects there might be something to his accusations and persuades her sisters to stay and try to uncover the truth.
Before long, it becomes clear that a pitchfork-wielding psychopath is lurking in the shadows, intent on hunting down every member of the family. It’s a relatively taut thriller, as they realize there is nowhere to go, with all the roads washed out and the phone lines down. None of the sisters are safe from the menacing holiday pitchforker in yellow.
The gripping climax blends suspense with emotional revelations; for a simple tele-fright, Home for the Holidays explores the complexities of family bonds, the haunting shadows of the past, and the lengths to which one will go to protect their fragile psyche. As the storm demands to be heard, the sisters must decide whether to come together in the face of danger or let their fractured relationships lead to their ultimate downfall.
One of the distinctive motifs of Home for the Holidays is the killer who wears a distinctive yellow raincoat. This character is depicted as a shadowy figure, heightening the film’s suspense and horror elements. The menacing yellow rain slicker, along with red boots and gloves, is linked to Elizabeth, the stepmother, adding an intriguing layer of mystery regarding the identity and motives of the killer. The choice of a yellow rain slicker serves to create a striking visual contrast against the dark and stormy backdrop of the movie, symbolizing both innocence and the looming danger that threatens the characters throughout the story.
While Home for the Holidays can be appreciated as a harsh, familiar narrative infused with a grim sense of irony, at its core lies a poignant tale of a fractured family struggling to move on from the haunting aftermath of their mother’s suicide, and the daughters who have endured relentless emotional abuse from a heartless father. There is more of a ‘Christmas nightmare’ than a Yuletide blessing.
The Descriptive Power of Yellow:
The yellow raincoat in Home for the Holidays can be framed as a “cloak of paradox,” where its sunny hue belies the stormy turmoil within the story. It serves as both a shield and a target, a garment that promises safety yet heralds danger. The bright yellow color stands out starkly against dark and stormy landscapes. In many ways, the yellow raincoat becomes a character on its, the color connected to the whisper of innocence; here, as a symbol of menace, it signifies innocence lost and the lurking color that overshadows the story and threatens the unwary. As the rain rolls down heavily and the wind howls, the raincoat’s vibrant color cuts through the darkness, a vivid reminder of the fragile line between protection and peril.
A yellow raincoat is traditionally associated with children, symbolizing innocence and vulnerability. However, in horror contexts, it also signals caution and impending danger. This duality makes it a potent visual cue that something ominous is about to occur, drawing the audience’s attention and heightening the sense of unease. It acts as a beacon amidst the gloom, highlighting the character’s exposure and potential peril.
While the raincoat initially suggests protection from the elements, in horror films, it often subverts this expectation by cloaking the wearer in mystery. The raincoat can conceal hidden threats or intentions, adding layers of suspense and unpredictability to the narrative.
This low-budget teleplay, scripted by Joseph Stefano, who is known for his screenplay, adapted into Hitchco*ck’s Psycho in 1960, a transgressive psychosexual horror tale about the duality of identity, obsession, and an enthralling style of deception. Both stories feature a macabre sense of humor, but Psycho is particularly rich in its dark comedy, dripping with a wealth of unsettling wit.
He is also known for his work on the groundbreaking 1960s science-fiction/fantasy anthology television series The Outer Limits. His writing style of reflective intrigue and tension adds depth to this modestly budgeted television film. Stefano also churned out other tele-fright scripts such as A Death of Innocence 1971, Live Again, Die Again 1974, Snowbeast 1977, and Revenge! 1971 with Shelley Winters and Stuart Whitman.
Incidentally, coming up here at The Last Drive In, I’ll be covering Stefano’s eerie Shakespearean fever dream, The Ghost of Sierra de Cobre 1964. It’s a very atmospheric, trippy film starring Martin Landau.
Martin Landau in The Ghost of Sierra de Cobre 1965 written by Joseph Stefano
Home for the Holidays is directed by John Llewellyn Moxey, the renowned torchbearer of television horror movies who gave us some true made-for-TV gems.
This made-for-TV movie is rooted in the classic trope of an ‘Old Dark House’ style mystery set in a more modern-day setting. Actually, it is the same house used in Crowhaven Farm in 1970. With its palpable sense of dread and claustrophobic atmosphere created by one of the masters of made for tv chillers as well as a prolific career with feature thrillers, including (City of the Dead aka Horror Hotel, Circus of Fear 1966, The House That Would Not Die 1970; A Taste of Evil 1971 The Night Stalker 1972; Where Have All the People Gone 1974).
Moxey’s other works also include Nightmare In Badham County (1976), No Place To Hide, and Killjoy, both released in 1981. Here with Home for the Holidays (1972), is an unexpectedly dark and suspenseful thriller set against a sparsely propped Christmas backdrop.
Home for the Holidays also features some suspenseful camerawork by cinematographer Leonard J. South and is accompanied by a stylish and melancholy score from George Aliceson Tipton, who worked on Terrence Malick’s Badlands 1973 and was nominated for an Oscar for his additional score for Phantom of the Paradise.
Classy productions indeed, it wasn’t a rare occasion when made-for-TV movies featured a stellar cast. It doesn’t get better for this suspenseful tale of family intrigue and murder than boasting the likes of Julie Harris, Eleanor Parker, and Jessica Walter, not to mention Sally Field and Jill Haworth.
Eleanor Parker is the serious eldest sister in this deeply troubled family. The family includes Frederica, an edgy, pill-popping lush portrayed by Jessica Walter, and Jo (Jill Haworth), who has indulged herself in multiple marriages. And then there’s Christine, the naïve and sensitive sister played by Sally Field.
Sally Field and Eleanor Parker had played estranged mother and daughter in the Movie of the Week – Maybe I’ll Come Home in the Spring 1971.
Eleanor Parker plays Alexandra (Alex) Morgan, a pivotal character whose actions drive much of the plot’s suspense. Parker’s portrayal of Alex is marked by a blend of charm and underlying menace, which becomes crucial as the story unfolds.
Parker, the eldest sibling, Alexandra (Alex), portrays remarkable self-control and embodies a sinister, nurturing presence as the narrative unfolds. Parker’s transformation stands out as a key element in this darkly engaging TV movie.
The vital element is undoubtedly Parker (who turned in an incredible performance in John Cromwell’s Caged 1950, as Marie Allen, a tender-hearted, unsuspecting 19-year-old widow who is also pregnant, finds herself gradually crushed by the ruthless criminals and brutal guards surrounding her.
Eleanor Parker in Caged 1950
This isn’t the only horror/thriller that Eleanor Parker flirted with in her career. She also starred in The Mysterious Doctor in 1943, The Woman in White in 1948, Eye of the Cat in 1969, and She’s Dressed to Kill in 1979. Parker seems to genuinely enjoy embodying the role of big sister Alex, serving as a steadfast source of emotional support for everyone around her. Unfortunately, her unwavering dedication may be misjudged and underestimated by those who fail to see the true impact on her life.
Jessica Walter, always a compelling presence, plays the flamboyantly wounded drug addict, unflinchingly revealing her deep sorrow over her mother’s death. She delivers an all too short performance as the troubled, substance-abusing sister still grappling with her sense of loss.
Jessica Walter is perfect for portraying the boozy pill-popping Frederica (Freddie) Morgan. Walter’s performance captures Freddie’s complex personality, something she is no stranger to, given her outrageous, captivating enigma of unhinged stalker Evelyn Draper in Play Misty For Me in 1971. In Home For the Holidays, she drowns herself in alcohol mostly, but no one bemoans their Bourgeois angst quite like Walter. Think back to Walter’s repressed Libby in the 1963 film The Group, based on the explosive novel of sizzling social issues by Mary McCarthy. Walter’s tele-frights include Women in Chains 1972, Vampire 1979 with Richard Lynch, and She’s Dressed to Kill that same year.
Jessica Walter in Play Misty For Me 1971
Elizabeth Hall Morgan, the stepmother suspected of foul play, is portrayed by Julie Harris. Harris delivers a performance that keeps audiences guessing about Elizabeth’s true intentions.
In a wonderfully detached yet subtly menacing younger second wife of the wealthy Benjamin Morgan. Harris injects Home for the Holiday with an effective air of ambiguity. Is she the ruthless murderess or just scandalous? In the type of ‘suspected killer’ role so prevalent in the ’70s and ‘80s slashers.
Julie Harris in Robert Wise’s The Haunting 1963
In The Haunting, Julie Harris delivers a portrayal of Eleanor Lance that is both repressed and eerily detached. Harris’s performance captured the complexity of a woman grappling with her own inner turmoil while navigating the eerie dynamics of Hill House, making her role memorable and central to Wise’s taut masterpiece. And it’s worth mentioning her role in the series that features that underestimated underdog Lt. Columbo – In Any Port in A Storm starring Donald Pleasance as the How Catcha murderer, Harris plays an ‘iron maiden’ who gets her blackmailing claws into Pleasance. In that episode, she is more steely and less neurotic than Eleanor Lance.
Joanna (Jo) Morgan, played by beautiful British actress Jill Haworth, who had become something of a minor scream queen, featured in roles such as The Outler Limits episode The Sixth Finger. At this point in her career, she had appeared in It! 1966 starring Roddy MacDowall, Haunted House of Horror 1969, and 1972’s Tower of Evil.
Jill Haworth and David McCallum in The Outer Limits ‘The Sixth Finger’
Sally Field plays the wide-eyed innocent Christine (Chris) Morgan, the youngest of the four daughters called back to the family home. Field is known for her versatility and emotional depth. with her youthful charm, shines in a pivotal role that bridges her time on Gidget and The Flying Nun with her groundbreaking Emmy-winning performance in Sybil in 1976. In Norma Rae, Sally Field gives a striking performance as a resilient factory worker in rural America who rises against oppressive labor conditions, ultimately becoming a passionate advocate for unionization and workers’ rights.
Sally Field in Martin Ritt’s Norma Rae 1979
In Home for the Holidays, Field brings a sense of vulnerability and innocence to the role, making her a sympathetic figure amid the chaos. She is a character caught between loyalty to her family and the fear of a lurking danger.
Walter Brennan plays their father, Benjamin Morgan, the ailing patriarch who summons his daughters back home. Morgan primarily serves as a prop to create suspicion surrounding his wife, Elizabeth, which fuels the movie’s central conflict. Having begun his acting career in 1925, this was one of Brennan’s final performances before his passing in 1974 from emphysema.
Together, these actors create a gripping narrative that explores themes of trust, betrayal, and familial bonds, all set against the backdrop of a tense and stormy Christmas gathering.
Critics have noted the film’s atmospheric tension, achieved through its claustrophobic setting and the use of rain to enhance the mood, as a good old-fashioned Christmasy snow was not feasible due to budget constraints. The performances, especially those of Julie Harris and Eleanor Parker.
In Home for the Holidays, as the new wife of the ailing patriarch, Harris embodies a quietly sinister presence. Her character remains consistently reserved, reflecting an unsettling depth that is very recognizable in many of Harris’s roles.
During Christmas, Benjamin Morgan’s estranged daughters gather together at their family home for the first time in many years. The eldest daughter, Alexandra, is the first to arrive. After decorating the tree, she cautiously enters her father’s room, where Morgan, in declining health, is confined to a ground floor within their remote country estate.
Anxiously, Morgan demands to know where she is before insisting she head to the airport to pick up the others. Although a recent storm has temporarily passed, Alex finds the road ahead flooded, blocked by a fallen branch that Local doctor Ted Lindsay (John Fink) is attempting to clear away.
Upon their reunion, Ted comments on the nine years that have passed since Alexandra’s last visit home. She drives home the message to him that her trip is solely for the holiday season and that she is on her way to pick up her sisters.
One gets the sense that Ted is asking after one sister in particular, though it is not openly acknowledged at the time. And while Alexandra brushes off his sarcastic remarks, he manages to get in a jab when he wonders if she’s still ‘mothering to death’ the other sisters.
As they approach the house, the rain begins to fall once more, but Joanna ‘Jo’ is unwilling to go inside until Alexandra explains what the “family crisis” is.
Within the darkness, while the storm temporarily rests, before the four Morgan sisters reach the family estate, Jo stands her ground before she enters the house, demanding to know why Alexandra has sent for all of them, in spite of their shared vow never to come back home. Frederica is already a little dipped in alcohol, much to youngest sister Christine’s ‘Chris’ distress. Christine is also anxious about their father’s deteriorating health, which prompts Alex to quietly reveal that he is dying.
Jo, who is the most bitter and unforgiving of their father, doesn’t feel that his dying is a good reason to be called home, but Alexandra shows them a letter that their father has sent her, proclaiming that his wife is slowly trying to poison him. Alex tries to plead the case that no matter what he’s done in the past, they should not allow ‘that woman’ to get away with murder… again.’ Referring to the questionable death of her first husband.
Once inside the house, Alex feels the weight of urgency as she attempts to usher her sisters toward their ailing father. However, Frederica ‘Freddie,’ who has taken up heaving drinking since her mother’s tragic death, lingers, pleading for a drink before proceeding with a reunion with her cruel father. In the face of Freddie’s and her other sister’s reluctance, Alex remains resolute, guiding the others toward their father’s converted bedroom.
Just as they are about to enter, they are suddenly aware of a presence lurking on the dimly lit staircase— Elizabeth Hall Morgan, their stepmother, watching from the shadows. We find out that none of them had ever met their stepmother before, though the public gossip was infamous about her. Understandably, the sisters are wary of this woman. Scornfully, Freddie remarks, “When I think about her sleeping in the same bed mother died in…”
Elizabeth hopes that Morgan’s daughters will at least be civil to her, though she knows they are resistant to the idea of her, even though she feels she’s learned a lot about them from their father. She also tells them that he has been hoping to see them again after all the years that have gone by, infusing it with subtle criticism as she tells them they have finally come to see him.
After Elizabeth departs, Freddie (Jessica Walter) mournfully laments the loss of their mother, claiming that Elizabeth has usurped her place. She holds their father to blame, accusing him of being the true architect of their mother’s death. Jo, unfazed, bluntly counters that their mother took her own life. Alex steps in, reminding them that he is still their father, before delivering her sisters to him.
The camera captures each of the sisters’ at their first meeting with their father which is fraught with tension and leaves a bitter taste, making it an intensely unpleasant experience. Except for Chris the most sensitive of the bunch, Morgan is hostile to the others.
While at his bedside, there are a lot of uncomfortable interactions as they trade small talk, and this exchange unveils the family’s history. He shows a touch of warmth to his youngest daughter, Chris, who is in her first year of grad school. But the tone shifts as he turns to Jo, mocking her for her romantic escapades and numerous marriages. He moves on to Freddie and her addictions. “You keep taking those pills, and one night, you’ll go like your mother did!”
Morgan cuts through the girls like a sharp blade before he reveals his suspicions that Elizabeth is trying to poison him, yet he does not want the sheriff involved. Jo attempts to warn everyone to lower their voices, as Elizabeth is most likely listening in on their conversation.
“That woman has ears that can hear sunshine.” and “If she hears one word of this, your lives won’t be worth a red cent!”
Feeling intensely uneasy, Chris drifts away from her father’s bedside to stand by the window. As a flash of lightning illuminates the night, followed by a rumble of thunder, she catches sight of Elizabeth striding across the lawn toward the barn, clad in a bright yellow raincoat and muted red Wellington boots. She immediately tells the others about Elizabeth’s mysterious trip to the barn.
Jo’s sarcastic dismissal of her father’s anxieties provokes the ornery man to insist that he is being poisoned: “Is that so hard to believe?” She dispatched her first husband in a similar manner, after all.
Morgan tells them that everyone knows she murdered her first husband, but still, he can tell that his daughters are skeptical. However, Alex does agree with him, making the point that she would not have come home if she didn’t think it was true. Elizabeth has been told that he called them all home so that he could plead for their forgiveness and that they had agreed, but only because they were after his money. They are shocked when they find out that he has directly accused Elizabeth of killing her first husband; he is met with her defiant challenge, calling him “a senile old fool” and offering to call the sheriff herself.
Freddie suggests they might be better off involving the sheriff, but her father’s firm “No!” leads Jo to sardonically note that he’d prefer the risk of being murdered to becoming the town’s laughingstock. “The people of this town have been waiting exactly ten years for something like this to happen.”
Morgan regrets his earlier conviction of Elizabeth’s innocence and acknowledges that he made a mistake. It was a decade ago that Elizabeth Hall allegedly killed her husband, and nine years now that the sisters had left home. The question is, when did the first Mrs. Morgan commit suicide?
Morgan broods over the mistake he made once having faith in her innocence amid the scandal surrounding her first husband’s death, warning them that they might also be in peril if she uncovers the real motive behind his summoning them home. Jo, with the sharpest edge to her voice, questions how they are meant to prevent her from succeeding in murdering him; Freddie, too, demands to know what he wants them to do if not go to the police. Morgan wants his daughters to dispose of Elizabeth. He grimly asserts: “Kill her!” before she can kill him.
Despite being supposedly stuck in bed, Morgan has his ear at the crack of his bedroom door while his daughters debate his astonishing request. Alex argues that they shouldn’t take his words seriously, suggesting that he merely emphasized the dire state of affairs. Jo, however, remains unconvinced. Meanwhile, Freddie is preoccupied with drowning her troubles in booze, which urges the fretful Chris to instead make her some coffee.
After Alex heads off to bed, Chris contemplates taking Ted up on his earlier invitation to call him, but, the storm has knocked the phones out. Chris hears a sound coming from the kitchen, where she finds Elizabeth warming up milk with honey.
Chris finds herself in the kitchen, where a pair of damp rubber Wellies rests beside a chair draped with a yellow slicker. Elizabeth is busy at the counter, clumsily peeling vegetables while wearing rubber gloves the same color as the drab red boots. Set against the turbulent and thunderous storm, Elizabeth is humming ‘Silent Night’ in a cheerful tone that she somehow makes sound creepy.
Chris hesitates for a moment, but Elizabeth greets her with an almost exaggerated warmth, inviting her to sit by the stove to warm up while she brews the coffee. She quickly shifts the raincoat to make space for Chris. As Chris takes a seat, she studies Elizabeth; as Chris settles in, she studies Elizabeth, attempting to make sense of this friendly woman in contrast to her father’s grim description.
Elizabeth mentions that she had made some for her father earlier but suspects Alex would never have let him take even a sip to his lips.
She doubts Alex actually allowed him to drink it, though she offers some to Chris. There is an awkward, loaded silence as Chris struggles to find a polite way to say no, ultimately relying on the most straightforward answer. She has no trouble sleeping.
To keep the conversation flowing, she asks about Mrs. Kelly, who has remained employed by Mr. Morgan, but has been ailing of late. Mrs. Kelly did complete the preparations for the Christmas dinner the day before, anticipating not feeling well enough to come back again for the holiday. Elizabeth expresses her amazement at how Mrs. Kelly makes her way through the woods between her own home and the Morgans’, confessing, “They scare me to death!” So, Elizabeth is herself finishing the cooking for their Christmas dinner. “It will be a while,” Most likely because you can’t cook a major feast while wearing unwieldy rubber gloves.
At first, Chris reacts defensively to Elizabeth’s remarks about the risks of Freddie mixing alcohol with pills but eventually admits that Freddie’s drinking is a problem. Elizabeth then brings up Mrs. Morgan’s death and questions whether Freddie still blames her father. She adds that perhaps indulging in alcohol is one way of dealing with her sense of loss instead of “going a little mad,” She also hints that she lost her mind after the late Mr. Hall died, intimating that he, too, had committed suicide. This revelation leaves Chris stunned, wondering if Mr. Hall may have also taken his own life. Now that the coffee has finished brewing, Chris thanks Elizabeth and leaves, puzzled by the unexpected realization that she finds herself actually liking this side of Elizabeth.
As Freddie uses the coffee to sober up, she offers her angle on Chris’s thoughts, suggesting that their mother may have taken her own life after she stumbles onto the affair between their father and Elizabeth.
Freddie’s thoughts aimlessly wander, her voice trembling with emotion, insisting that if their mother had really taken her life, why didn’t she leave behind a suicide note? and that she died of a broken heart. She laments that no one except her mother has truly loved her since.
Chris tries to comfort Freddie, encouraging her to come to dinner, “I’m having my dinner,” she tells Chris, reaching for her glass again.
Meanwhile, Chris and Jo decide to dress up and head to the dining room, where a beautifully festive table is laid out for them.
Chris: “How Christmasy!” Jo: “You’d think we really were home for the holidays.”
As Elizabeth enters, she catches Jo’s comment about her being “our intended victim,” but she doesn’t react as she takes her seat and suggests they all say grace. Alex joins in, but Chris steals glances at her stepmother.
The dinner includes a conversation laden with even more discomfort than imagined. Elizabeth whinges at their father’s absence while Alex asks about the doctor’s prognosis of his condition. She hushedly insists that shes been forbidden to summon the doctor for any reason, which opens the door for Jo to share her bitter observations about men, husbands specifically. She muses on how much a wife can endure, adding with a wry smile that she can only be expected to “take so much,” at least she could always count on Alex, which spared her from having ever to contemplate something as drastic as murder.
Elizabeth cuts through the veiled implications and confronts the reality surrounding her husband’s questionable death. An awkward Chris, feeling the weight of the moment, tentatively follows up on how Elizabeth alluded to the idea that Mr. Hall might have taken his own life.
Elizabeth replies with a tone of irony: “You’re the first person who’s considered that possibility…aside from the Grand Jury.” She tells them that she hardly thinks about it anymore.
Though cleared by a grand jury, Elizabeth’s life was ruined by the people in the town who constantly reminded her of the questions surrounding her husband’s death.
She reveals the haunting echoes of her past—her harrowing days confined in a prison cell, the isolation of being branded the town’s outcast, and the relentless battle she faced in trying to get a job. Each memory is a reminder of the stigma she endured and the scars that shaped her present, yet she speaks of them with a surprising detachment, as if they belong to someone else.
But these memories no longer haunt her as they once did. She recalls a time when she awoke screaming in an asylum, a vivid reminder of her trauma. If she were ever to face such accusations again, she concludes with a chilling calmness;
“I will tell you this…if a nightmare like that should ever happen again…if for some reason I’m ever accused by anyone of killing…the next time, I will not be the one who wakes up screaming.”
Right on cue, Freddie’s piercing cries echo from the sewing room. Her sisters rush to her side, realizing she’s retreated to the sewing room, assumedly a space that once belonged to their mother.
Inside, they find the distraught Freddie in a state of utter hysteria, her wrists bleeding from cuts made with a shattered whisky glass. She is sobbing over a painting of her mother.
She cowers away from them, gripping the glass like a knife, her finger trembling as she points at a portrait of their mother. “So beautiful!” she repeatedly cries, fixated on the image of the woman who bears her likeness. As they grapple with Freddie’s fragile state, desperate to pull her back from the brink, she breathlessly rants about death and murder; her sisters attempt to reach her, each in their own way: Chris pleads, “Please, let us help you!” Jo commands, “Drop that glass, Freddie!” Alex warns, “You’re going to bleed to death!” The tension in the room escalates as they grapple with Freddie’s fragile state, desperate to pull her back from the brink.
As Freddie falls to the floor, sobbing over the portrait of her mother, she catches sight of her stepmother in the doorway; her screams erupt once more. Alex and Jo struggle to pull her away, as
With a low, simmering growl, Alex scolds Elizabeth for her negligence in keeping that room locked at all times, questioning how Freddie managed to get in.
Elizabeth feigns ignorance but then notices Chris watching her with a look that suggests she has reverted to her original judgment of her stepmother.
With a heavy heart, Elizabeth retreats, leaving Chris alone to contemplate the portrait. Freddie’s emotional outburst has left a vivid mark— a bloody smudge on the canvas.
At this point, Jo starts packing, and Alex once again brings up the argument that he’s still their father. Jo isn’t having any of that. She reminds Alex that it was she who convinced them to abandon him in the first place.
Jo admits she doesn’t give a damn about him dying; she absolves him of any responsibility for their mother’s death. “Legally or morally,” she asserts, she grew unhinged from the moment Chris was born—“Just as batty as poor Freddie is now!” Alex says, “What a charming way to talk about your family!”
Frustrated, Jo snaps at her, telling Alex to stop treating her like a child and to quit playing the role of the “Big sister.” But then she hesitates, recalling a conversation with Chris. Jo tells Alex, “I once told Chris I felt we were your emotional prisoners,” and she said, ‘Wouldn’t it be funny if it was the other way around?’”
Alex dismisses the heavy implications of Jo’s insights, apologizing if she ever made her feel trapped and pleading with her to stay. “We need you!”
Jo is taken aback, realizing that Alex genuinely fears their father is in real danger. Not for a moment did she think their father’s letter wasn’t merely a ruse to lure them back home.
She questions why Elizabeth would want to harm him. It wouldn’t be for financial gain, especially since they all stand to inherit his fortune. After all, the four sisters are still in his will, and Elizabeth will not inherit the entire estate.
Is she the archetypal poisoner often associated with female murderers? Alex suggests, circling back to Jo’s prior dig, “Emotional prisoner?”
Regardless of the risk her father faces, Jo remains resolute that she wants out of there and asks for the keys to Alex’s car so she can drive herself to the train station. She feels overwhelmed at the thought of confronting Freddie while she’s emotionally wrung out and practically catatonic.
Jo attempts to say goodbye to Freddie, but she does not respond.
Alex realizes that Jo’s leaving is inevitable and tells her the keys are in the car and encourages her to say her goodbyes while she takes her suitcase downstairs. Alex assures her that she’ll deal with their father herself.
Chris leaves Freddie and silently makes her way downstairs to say goodbye to Jo, who begs her to leave, too. But Jo trusts her instincts, telling Chris, “Don’t you be the one who wakes up screaming!”
She tells her, “Oh, Jo! Don’t start spooking me with your eerie feelings!”
Jo steps out into the rain-drenched night; she makes her way swiftly to the barn now used as a garage. As she crosses the threshold, through the eye of the camera, the lens shifts, revealing she is not alone. A true proto-slasher moment. The perspective shifts, and the atmosphere is transformed by the sense that there is a presence watching her. She is not alone.
As she crosses the threshold, the atmosphere shifts—the music transforms, and the camera angle reveals that she is not by herself. With her back turned as she loads her suitcase into the car, a figure emerges from the darkness. Dressed in a bright yellow raincoat, complete with the reddish rubber gloves and Wellies, the mysterious intruder bends down before rising, wielding a pitchfork in their creepy gloved hands… With her back turned, she is brutally impaled, and her body is then dragged away.
Christmas morning arrives under the weight of a relentless rainstorm. From her room, Elizabeth gazes out the window as a small car pulls into the driveway of the Morgan house. —it’s clearly Ted’s car. Chris approaches the front door, her attention momentarily caught by the soft click of her father’s bedroom door as it closes. When she opens the door, she finds Ted standing there. Pretending to have come to wish them all a Merry Christmas it is Chris that he has come to see. He even surprises her with a gift: a charming silver locket. As they chat briefly, they reminisce about Chris’s infatuation with Ted long ago and the fact that she’s still single. With a wistful smile, she admits her tendency to “scare them off” by “needing too much.”
Ted checks the time and realizes he should be going, aware that Elizabeth has been instructed to keep him away. Chris suspects this is more Elizabeth’s doing, but Ted clarifies that he overheard her father giving those instructions.
Struck with a sudden impulse, Chris asks Ted if he can tell what’s wrong with her father “Just by looking at him.” She hopes to sneak him into his room under the pretense of wishing him a Merry Christmas. But Chris’s plan is derailed when Elizabeth appears, curtly informing them that he is sleeping.
Chris is then stunned when Ted lets on that he has some ideas about her father’s illness, but without his consent to further lab tests, he is powerless to help. Another curious revelation is how it was Elizabeth who actually asked him to pay a visit to the house about a month ago when her father first accused her of poisoning him. In Chris’s mind, this points toward Elizabeth’s innocence. Perhaps, as Ted remarks, “Or clever,”
He then suggests they might go for a drive the next day, though he cautions that it might not be possible due to the rising river and the risk of the roads being washed out. As Ted leaves, Chris moves to the kitchen to make some coffee and tackle the dishes, the final frame lingering on her as she puts on a pair of those red rubber gloves…
That evening, Alex slips into her father’s room to check on him, finding him seemingly asleep. However, the moment she leaves, he sits up abruptly, fear etched across his face.
Alex turns her focus to Chris. Attempting to offer some comfort, she reveals her decision to ask Elizabeth to leave the house the following morning. Chris reacts with shock, arguing that Elizabeth could very well be innocent. But Alex is struck with disbelief at her younger sister’s wearisome naivety: “Don’t you ever get tired of being so childish?”
Though Alex softens, her cruel words linger as she explains, with resigned breath, that the weight of responsibility always seems to rest on her shoulders—while Freddie has her pills and Jo has her social life. “I’m still here,” Chris assures her. The simultaneous crash of thunder might hint that her baby sister’s support isn’t enough to hold off the looming danger.
As it turns out, the warm milk is for Freddie who is indulging in herself in a bottle of vodka. is intended for Freddie, who is currently indulging in her bottle of vodka. There’s a moment of uncertainty between the two women before the scene shifts to Freddie, lounging in the bath—vodka bottle close by and a generous glass in hand. There is no trace of the milk and honey.
By nightfall, Freddie is in another one of her drunken stupors. While taking a bath with vodka in one hand, In an intoxicated haze, she shifts restlessly in the water, only to be suddenly yanked forward by two rubber-gloved hands gripping her ankles and pulled underneath the water by the killer and drowned.
The following morning, Chris stumbles into the chaos, her horrified screams bouncing off the walls and summoning the others to the scene. Alex’s gaze sharpens into a dagger aimed squarely at Elizabeth while Morgan’s voice rises from below, demanding to know what’s going on. With a protective arm around Chris, Alex swiftly ushers her away, leaving Elizabeth to bear the grim burden of delivering the news. Alex insists it was a suicide; she adds a half-hearted suggestion that it could have been an accident—after all, Freddie had been cavalierly mixing barbituates with vodka despite her well-meaning but ignored warnings. It seems that in this house, the link between tragedy and farce is as connected as the lightning and thunder scattered throughout Home for the Holidays.
Morgan and Alex seize the opportunity to convince the girls that Elizabeth had been in Freddie’s room, leaving behind the warm milk. Ruffled, Elizabeth admits it openly but quickly clarifies that Freddie didn’t touch it; instead, she herself drank it, and the remnants of the glass sit conveniently by her bedside, should anyone wish to analyze its contents. She also informs them that the phones are out of service so it won’t be possible to call the sheriff. With the roads most assuredly washed out, they can all plan on remaining stranded for quite some time. Alex calls down from the upstairs landing. There is nothing on Elizabeth’s bedside table to check, and no pills in Freddie’s room.
Alex and Chris head to the kitchen, where Alex lays out her theory of how and why Elizabeth would want to kill Freddie and the rest of them. She argues that Elizabeth’s motive isn’t greed for money or property but rather a desperate desire to protect her safe haven from being taken away.
Chris, however, isn’t buying it. If Elizabeth wanted them all out of the picture, why did she let Jo slip through her fingers? She can’t just sit still and do nothing; she suggests that she go for help.
She would never make the ten-mile walk into town, but she might be able to make the mile trek through the woods to Mrs. Kelly’s house, hoping that her phone might actually work. Chris heads out in the night, though it is noticeable that she is not wearing her yellow raincoat or red Wellies. Both Alex and Elizabeth watch her as she disappears into the trees. It’s not long after Chris’s first journey into the woods that she hears the sound of approaching footfalls trailing behind her. She bursts into a wild run; coming into the frame is the shadowy figure clad in a yellow slicker and red boots, Gripping the pitchfork with a fierce determination to claim another victim.
Chris finds Jo buried in the barn.
Chris now finds herself running and hiding, her heart racing as she darts between the shadowy trees, finding some cover sheltered within their massive tangled roots. The stalking pitchfork finds its way, piercing the ground, nearly stabbing her before they move on, continuing on the hunt. As night begins to fall, Alex focuses her attention on her father. When she glances out the window, she notices Elizabeth outside, wearing the recurring element—the bright yellow slicker—as she appears to be frantically searching for something or someone.
Feeling a sense of urgency, Alex throws on her own thin rain poncho and heads outside to find out what she’s up to.
Chris, having turned back after almost being at the other end of the pitchfork, barely makes it past the barn before she stumbles over Jo’s lifeless body, emerging out of the soggy earth loosened up by the rain, exposing her shallow grave. “Christine!” cries Elizabeth, “I was so worried I wouldn’t find you!”
The traumatized girl runs in terror, trying to reach the house. Once inside, she calls out to Alex as she tries to lock one door after another—except for one, which she has forgotten: the storm cellar.
Chris, in a state of rushing panic, searches for Alex within the house, which has been thrown into darkness by the raging storm.
In her desperate hunt for safety, she hears footsteps echoing from below, and overwhelmed with fear, she retreats into a closet.
Meanwhile, Elizabeth appears out of the cellar in a voice surprisingly calm given the circ*mstances.
She calls out for Chris, though it’s unclear whether she’s aware of the grim reality lurking in the shadows or if she’s even seen Jo’s dead body in the garage.
She persists in her search, calling out for Chris, but eventually makes her way back outside into the storm. As she hears the door slowly creak open, Chris cautiously abandons her hiding place and heads to the staircase, though, in her haste, she accidentally grazes the Christmas tree, causing a shower of ornaments to jingle and clash.
Heart racing, she rushes into her father’s room and bolts the door behind her. But when she turns to her father for comfort, she finds that he is dead.
From behind Chris, Elizabeth’s tearful voice breaks the silence, revealing the grim truth. Chris runs off into the night once again, ignoring Elizabeth, who desperately pleads with her to come back to the house. As Chris races down the road, a car pulls up beside her—it’s Alex.
Breathless and panicked, Chris spills out her jumbled story: their father’s death, Elizabeth having murdered Jo, and her own narrow escape. “I know,” says Alex. “I knew you’d come to me. You always came to me…” Chris trembles, “She—would have killed me if I hadn’t gotten away,” “She wouldn’t have killed you,” Alex replies, her voice steady.
Alex emerges from the car, her Wellies squelching the soaked earth beneath her. All these years, Alex has felt like a long-suffering dumping ground for her sisters.
“Alex!” Chris whispers, her voice filled with painful confusion. “Why?”
“I want to be free of all of you,” Alex replies, her voice tinged with choking on years of resentment.
Chris, searching for words, reaches for reasons why Alex didn’t just leave. But to Alexandra, leaving wouldn’t have meant the end of it, at least not the emotional threads that don’t fray. “Your helpless little faces would have followed me wherever I went,” She speaks with a blend of anguish and bitterness. “Sooner or later, I’d’ve come running back because somebody needed me…”
As Alex raises the tire iron high, swinging it down with brutal force, it delivers a fierce blow, sending Chris spiraling down the steep hillside and crashing into the debris below.
Frustrated, Alex grabs the flashlight and shines it into the shadows, trying to determine if her weapon hit the mark.
The flashlight’s glow settles on Chris, and Alex hesitates, contemplating whether to descend for a closer look. Just then, another car approaches—it’s Ted. In an instant, Alex transforms herself into someone who has narrowly escaped danger. He is shocked. Alex
“What!?” Ted gasps with disbelief as Alex, through her tears, reveals the grim news: everyone is dead. “Mrs. Hall killed them all,” She explains -except Chris, whom she last saw running from the house into “Those godforsaken woods.”
Ted volunteers to look for Chris, suggesting that Alex head into town to alert the sheriff now that the main road is clear. He quickly jumps into his car and speeds off toward the house. After a brief pause, Alex decides it’s time to go for help.
The following morning, Alex accompanies Sheriff Nolan (Med Flory) and makes their way to the Morgan residence. The storm has passed, and the sky is clear. Alex rides with the sheriff while a deputy trails behind in her car. As they approach a particular bend in the road, Alex glances toward the woods with a hint of curiosity, though the dense trees reveal nothing. A flicker of mischief dances across her lips as if they hold a secret joke that only she understands.
They are met by Elizabeth, who peers down from the upstairs railing with a somber expression. Alex has already informed the sheriff about her father and where they can find Jo. Alex takes them to see Freddie. Yet, she can’t resist a sly glimmer in her eyes as Elizabeth catches it, knowing that she has orchestrated a perfect deception.
Just as Alex is about to enter Freddie’s room, Ted comes out of one of the other bedrooms and informs them that Chris’s body has been put in there, letting the sheriff know to call the coroner.
Ted and Alex exchange looks. Alex once again has a knowing smile. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself to project a convincing facade of sorrow, determined to ensure that no one suspects her true intentions and the reality of what happened to Chris. “Oh, Chris!” she sobs loudly. “Oh, my poor baby!” Alex seems to possess pure satisfaction at being able to pin the blame on Elizabeth. Chris lies in bed, her body arranged as if for a final goodbye. Suddenly, her eyes open wide, and Alex realizes that Chris is very much alive.
Alex is in shock as she backs away, a wave of dread comes over her as the truth sinks in: all her plotting and her cherished freedom are unraveling with the reality that Chris is still alive.
In a moment of pure panic, she lets out a scream. The sound lingers, a mix of terror and disbelief, even as the sheriff and his deputy are poised to arrest her. A queer grin overcomes her; it’s a strange reaction to this unexpected turn. With all her efforts, she has failed.
A visibly shaken Chris is carefully escorted downstairs by Elizabeth, who also carries her suitcase. The two women share a brief embrace before Ted steps in to take Chris away. Elizabeth watches them drive off, no longer under a cloud of suspicion, a sense of finality settling over her as she retreats back into her personal haven.
