Does “Home Alone” and its sequel still hold up as well as ever?

The answer seems obvious, although over the years, subsequent generations seem to approach both productions with less sentiment. Of course, the most iconic one is Home Alone. Home Alone 2: Lost in New York built upon that legend, expanding the story to encompass the entire big city, which wasn’t as groundbreaking since the plot model remained the same. Many sequels followed, but none were truly noteworthy. What remains are those two installments, especially the first one, which contains everything that has endeared Home Alone to audiences for years. Its main strength lies in the fact that it isn’t just a flat holiday comedy about bizarre ways to spend Christmas. It’s a blend of comedy and a social drama about loneliness experienced at the most unexpected moment, where the only way to cope is a kind of fight—for oneself, for one’s place in relationships with siblings, in a large house where one feels very small, and ultimately with the burglars, who are a living, physical, and metaphorical testament to how difficult the holiday season can be for some, amplifying year-long issues in the psyche of Western culture. After all, the holiday season is supposed to be a time for togetherness, joy, and general happiness. Kevin found a way to that happiness, and we can learn from it.

Over the years, Home Alone has gained a richer educational dimension in my eyes than I initially thought. I watch it annually along with its sequel, and I still enjoy this child’s adventure in an adult world. Years ago, however, I watched it as typical entertainment, and Christmas was a time free from school, a period when one expected jokes, adventure, and a light atmosphere from films—overlooking all the layers on which these “entertaining” productions were far more than that. In popular opinion, Home Alone is precisely such a lighthearted comedy, not a Mariana Trench-deep psychological portrait. That’s true. If it were otherwise, Kevin wouldn’t have become a Christmas icon. But that doesn’t mean the film lacks deeper levels, nor does it mean these layers didn’t work on viewers in a way that made it a holiday hit. Viewers simply weren’t aware of it. That was the case for me, too; initially, I only noticed the purely entertaining aspect of the production. Over time, which took many years, the other layers became apparent.

Thus, Home Alone (and its sequel) is a multi-genre production, and that’s where one should begin. The story takes place during the holidays, with the central theme being Kevin’s solitude during this time. He must deal not only with loneliness, fear, and the absence of his parents but also with direct threats. Among these, the main issue isn’t turning off the water or removing a pan from the stove but the two burglars, Harry and Marv. They torment Kevin both in Chicago in the first film and in the sequel set in New York, following essentially the same formula. Kevin’s family home is replaced by an abandoned townhouse in the sequel, where the protagonist must confront the antagonists. He does so using every available means, many of which would likely have resulted in the deaths of Harry and Marv—but not in this convention. Here, everyone survives and gets their comeuppance so that the audience can grasp the story’s meaning.

At the outset, I mentioned that these two criminals are a metaphor for holiday adversities that ordinary people often face. Kevin’s family never deals with such problems because they are wealthy and treat Christmas rather instrumentally. There is no sense of unity among them, as one might expect in line with the symbolism of the holidays. Kevin senses this even before his parents forget about him twice. He must face this loneliness alone, which becomes personified in his encounters with Harry and Marv. On this level, Home Alone is most interesting, aside from the brilliantly acted confrontations with the burglars, who seem nearly indestructible. Fortunately, Kevin is surrounded by ordinary people—the homeless pigeon lady, the elderly neighbor yearning for his family—who help him in his most challenging moments, showing him and his parents the way forward. Paradoxically, encountering this 8- and later 10-year-old is also a significant turning point for them. It may not radically change their lives, but it allows them to survive Christmas—just this one—but crucially, as success in this year might pave the way for solutions in the next.

The story of Kevin thus holds symbolic as well as entertainment value. Beyond that, it is an incredible adventure. Holiday films often focus too heavily on the celebration of Christmas itself and its symbolism rather than expanding the story. Chris Columbus and John Hughes, specialists in adventure comedies, structured the action so that Christmas serves merely as a backdrop. The plot unfolds intensely outside the rituals, whose elements are used mainly for aesthetics. Holiday aesthetics, however, have the advantage of creating a fantastic atmosphere, and the production design in Home Alone is excellent. There are also shifts in tone from festive to darker. The mysterious neighbor, the many faces of the city—including its sinister, criminal side—a substantial dose of violence presented humorously, John Williams’ timeless music, and even references to broader cultural elements all contribute to positioning the first two Home Alone films as works not just for children but for adults as well. Adults can find countless situations that they may have experienced themselves, albeit in a slightly different fictional world.

Thus, I hope that after December 23rd, I’ll get to see at least one of these films again, realizing that the holiday season isn’t objectively the best time to watch it. After all, one of its points is to encourage good deeds not just during the holidays, because doing so only at Christmas is exceptionally hypocritical.