Don't Tell Santa You're Jewish! (2010)

Don't Tell Santa You're Jewish! from The Juki Museum on Vimeo.

Jody is a lonely Jew; she's apprehensive about the things that mark her out as different from her peers and she'd sooner not be drawing attention to herself when there are Christmas festivities afoot.  When her domineering mother pushes her into sitting on Santa's lap in order to get a present at her hockey club's Christmas party, Jody is fearful that Santa will expose her as a fraud, but instead she finds solidarity from an unexpected source.

Don't Tell Santa You're Jewish! is the work of Canadian independent animator Jody Kramer, and tells the charming story of a perceived outsider struggling with the sting of not fitting in during the festive season.  Jody's anxieties about meeting Santa and having to conceal her Jewishness are depicted in a manner that's instantly relatable, no matter what your religious or cultural affinities, while Kramer's soft but squirmy pastel-coloured art style captures a sense of childhood angst that's by turns squeamish and beguiling.  Owing largely to Jody's uneasiness about being forced into the Christmas festivities, the film's take on the holiday is refreshingly non-sentimental; indeed, there's a wry underpinning throughout in how Christmas is predominantly represented as a time of great self-interest and material gain, as exemplified by the girl who beleaguers Santa with her ridiculously long list of wants.  To the majority of party-goers, the tradition of sitting on Santa's lap is not regarded as anything other than a means of getting one's mitz upon a free present, the real joy and excitement of Christmas day being in finally getting to rip the paper off the damned thing.  Jody cares far less about such things that she does about trying to make it through the day with her social dignity intact, and we sympathise with her in having to traverse this crass little wasteland for the sake of a box with chintzy wrapping, the contents of which, we suspect, aren't actually all that amazing in the first place. 

In many respects, Kramer's film is a subversion of the traditional coming of age story in which a child is forced to confront the reality (or non-reality) of Santa.  Here, it's the destruction of Santa's mystique - the peeling away of the beard to reveal a mere human hiding behind a bulky suit - that makes him accessible to Jody.  For much of the film, Jody's view of Santa is as the embodiment of everything that makes her feel different and isolated in the world, but her anxieties subside the instant that she's able to see past that and identify with the man underneath.  She walks away with a newfound confidence, lifted by the realisation that she's not so alone in trying to get by in a world that's not intrinsically understanding or sympathetic, and maybe not as bound by labels or convention as she always assumed.  Jody's social unease also seems to have lessened by the end - compared to the sneering suspicion of the two girls who confronted her in the queue, the two girls who greet her post-Santa seem much more accepting (perhaps because Jody is now holding a present and can be safely recognised as one of them), leading to a humorous exchange in which Jody, awkwardly but more self-assured than before, attempts to return their seasonal greetings using her own more inclusive vernacular.

Notably, Jody leaves the party with a freedom which would surely make her the envy of her impatient, present-craving peers, in that she is not bound by any tradition which forbids her from opening her gift before Christmas day.  Only we know that this isn't really important to Jody, and it's no surprise that the the tangible present doesn't even come up during the final scene showing the ride home.  Instead, Jody's mind is elsewhere - now much more open to the notion that limitations can be challenged and, no longer feeling inhibited by either her religion or her gender, she ponders if she too can assume the role of Santa one day.  This sureness in her own adaptability is the real gift that Santa (ahem, Adam Steinbauer) has bestowed on her, and Jody's desire to inspire those same feelings of support and solidarity in others has a gentle wholesomeness that far transcends the commercialism unfolding around her.  Ultimately, it's a joyous ode to the simple human connections that remind us that we always belong in the world, no matter what kinds of barriers it seems intent on erecting, and that we can figure out how to survive and play our part in it.

Happy seasonal holidays, everyone.  And be sure to check out Jody Kramer's official website.  She has some really neat stuff tucked away in there.