What are Spielberg's and Scorsese's kids doing in this Xmas flick?

In early December, a rather odd film appeared on a streaming platform: Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point. The title alone, which feels overlong and hardly captivating, suggests this isn’t exactly a film that naturally piques one’s curiosity.

But if you pay attention to the poster, you’ll notice two intriguing surnames: Scorsese and Spielberg. Of course, these aren’t the two directors we’re all familiar with; if they were producing this film, Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point certainly wouldn’t be languishing in near obscurity. Instead, these names belong to Francesca Scorsese and Sawyer Spielberg, who appear in the movie as cast members.

On some level, having them there makes sense. Sawyer isn’t yet known as an actor, but Francesca is a legitimate actress who had a significant role in Luca Guadagnino’s HBO limited series We Are Who We Are, delivering a commendable performance. So the film’s casting of them isn’t solely about capitalizing on their family names.

Moreover, the director of the film, Tyler Taormina, genuinely believed they were perfect for their roles, especially Sawyer. According to Taormina, his casting director suggested Sawyer, and from their initial conversations, he felt Sawyer’s dedication to acting was evident. Though Sawyer appears for only about five or six minutes in total, he spent about a week proactively discussing character details and interpretative approaches with Taormina. His professionalism clearly can’t be dismissed with a simple “nepo baby” quip.

Still, these facts won’t matter much in the court of public opinion. Objectively, recruiting two offshoots of cinematic royalty is bound to provoke a certain skeptical narrative: Are the creators leveraging these industry royalty connections to secure favor from the directors’ circles and thus land them gigs? Is this a manifestation of that old Hollywood story—cronyism and nepotism overshadowing meritocracy?

But that’s not exactly what the creators of Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point intended—at least not entirely. From my direct conversations with them, I’ve learned that as young filmmakers with no insider backing, they indeed hoped directors like Scorsese might notice their work. Perhaps casting his daughter or Spielberg’s son might be the only feasible way for them to catch the attention of the film world’s upper echelons, and it does provide some promotional value. Essentially, it’s an extremely humble strategy, not the coldly calculating, opportunistic nepotism their critics allege. The filmmakers understood they were entering a lose-lose scenario: cast these industry offspring and be accused of nepotism, or don’t cast them and miss out on a rare promotional hook.

So how did it turn out?

Objectively, it might have harmed the film somewhat. By focusing our attention on something extraneous—like the star-power of these young scions—less attention is paid to the film itself.

Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point may not be a top-tier masterpiece, but it’s a well-crafted, coherent indie production. It revolves around the varied emotions—happiness, yearning, sorrow, loneliness, struggles—that an entire family experiences on Christmas Eve, centering particularly on teenagers hungry for something unexpected or transformative in their small-town, stable but stifling life. They yearn for change, aware that it will cost them their innocence and familial security. After encountering a strange event and trying to return to normalcy, they realize nothing will ever be the same. With the pain and stimulation of growth, how will they face the future?

That’s the core theme Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point explores. It was explored more naturally and poetically in Taormina’s feature debut, Ham on Rye, but in this third feature, the theme feels less straightforward. Taormina is attempting to step into adulthood creatively, delving into the woes and doubts of older characters, but this evolution can’t be smooth. Like his adolescent protagonists, as a still-maturing director, Taormina must navigate growing pains in his cinematic journey.

Taormina is just one member of the creative collective behind Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point. He’s part of Omnes Films, a group/production company that embraces collective filmmaking: they assist in each other’s directorial ventures, provide input, and collectively crowdfund their films.

Director Tyler Taormina and cinematographer Carson Lund

When I spoke with three main members of Omnes Films, they emphasized their nostalgia for the U.S. film scene before the 1990s and their subtle resistance to contemporary cultural norms. Their cinematic heroes are Richard Linklater, Jim Jarmusch, Hal Hartley, and the Coen Brothers. They yearn for a pre-algorithm era of cinema, unconstrained by mega-corporations dictating what audiences should watch. Though their power is limited, they still strive to deliver their unique voice through their creations.

I agree with many of their takes on cinema and current culture. I like their films and believe their voice deserves a place in today’s media landscape. But the reality is: if you don’t leverage those top-tier industry names, you may never reach your target audience.

So, Spielberg or Scorsese—both are just tools for these lesser-known filmmakers to drum up a bit of attention. This may influence how we appreciate the film, but it might not. If it broadens your horizons, leading you to discover a film you never knew but now realize you wanted to know, then congratulations—to both you and these creators. In the attention economy, every strategy can be a gamble. Just this once, maybe it wasn’t a wasted effort.

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