First off, my name is Kevin. When Home Alone first came out, I was 9-years-old. Kids told me “Kevin, you are such a disease”, and “Kevin, you are what the French call les incompetent” six to seven times a day. And when that didn’t happen, someone would just yell, “KEVIN!” and everyone would laugh, because, you know, that’s also something people said in Home Alone. So basically, what I’m trying to tell you is, this movie is great because it reminds me of when I WAS A STAR.
But aside from the personal gains, it’s really the perfect childhood fantasy: your parents go away, you can eat all the pizza and Crunch Tators you want, you get to jump on beds, go shopping for various sundry items, and when thieves come to rob your home and murder you, fool them with a series of Rube Goldberg-esque contraptions, plus a spider, and, when all that fails, a series of violent interactions with an old man’s shovel. No other holiday movie teaches children about the highs and lows of living on your own, of petty shoplifting crimes, and of forcing your Mom to pawn her jewelry and ride in a van with a preeminent polka band. No other holiday movie really identifies that cheap uncle everyone has, or the dynamics of having a bullying older brother with an ugly girlfriend. And no other movie made me, for just a fleeting moment during Christmas of 1990, feel so damn famous. Suck it, White Christmas. - Kevin Alexander, executive editor, Food & Drink