by Ali Mozaffari
Set in the Christmas of 1970, which hints at the atmosphere of this period (Vietnam War, hippies, civil rights movements, soon followed by a collective distrust in the government), it introduces us to its world by showing the year-end ceremony of an all-boys boarding school, the steppingstone to prestigious universities for many seemingly demotivated young men there. The atmosphere of the times is even more emphasised by using 35mm celluloid to shoot the film to reach the look and tone of films made in the 1970s.
One can even spot the scratches on celluloid in the opening titles if looking closely!
There are several angles we can analyse films from, narratively or stylistically. Yet, The Holdovers is first and foremost a character-driven comedy-drama, so we’re going to focus on the main character(s) of the film and analyse how the script masterfully shapes the plot around the major turning points of its two main characters and what patterns it used successfully in doing so.
This is the insightful introduction we get to our main character, Paul Hunham: A middle-aged man sitting in the corner of a clustered room marking exams, his first words are: “Philistines. Lazy, vulgar, rancid little Philistines.” Paul’s work is soon interrupted by someone knocking at his door. A very enthusiastic lady is on the other side of the door, telling him the schoolmaster wants to see him while offering him Christmas cookies. He accepts them reluctantly without a touch of recognition for the flirtatious warmth coming from the woman and shuts the door. It gives us everything we need to know: He’s a strict and sarcastic teacher who doesn’t approve of his students, doesn’t seem interested in people around him including women, and seems to only care for one true love in his life: History. A keyword and topic that soon becomes a great device for the plot and the character’s turning points.
David Hemingson, the screenwriter of the film mentioned in an interview that initially he wanted to focus the story on Hunham’s character arc, but after discussing it with his director Alexander Payne, they decided to add Angus’ character as his arc would be much more interesting to follow. We will discuss how important this shift was to form a great dynamic for the value charges in the story, which help the story keep unfolding. When I say ‘story value’, I’m borrowing from Robert McKee, the great screenwriting guru as he puts it: ‘Story values are the universal qualities of human experience that may shift from positive to negative, or negative to positive from one moment to the next.’ And ‘A scene is an action through conflict in more or less continuous time and space that turns the value-charged condition of a character’s life on at least one value with a degree of perceptible significance. Ideally, every scene is a story event.’
It seems that the script focused on this main value for its protagonists: Connection and Friendship between them through revealing their life secrets and understanding each other’s histories (i.e. past). And through this story value, the script creates a deep change and arc the characters’ view of life from a negative to a positive. I’m going to number the turning points of the script as we go along to demonstrate how it unfolds the story throughout the plot.
Now, back to the film. In the next scene, we see Hunham in his element, handing over the terrible marks he’s given to those ‘Philistines’ he was moaning about. Just when the disappointed students think it can’t get any worse, he starts this last session of the semester by teaching new material. This is where he’s confronted by Angus for the first time (he is the young, selfish, and arrogant student we get introduced to in the students’ dorm). He’s the only one who dares to speak up and question whether he should be starting a new chapter just before the holidays. As a result, Hunham dismisses the class, informing them that he expects them to learn this chapter he just skipped but promises a make-up exam to help them have better chances of getting into college. The conflict between these two characters is set up. The connection value charge between Hunham and Angus has started on a negative. (One)
The inciting incident of the story comes when Hunham is forced by the headmaster (who’s one of his very own old students, which hints at Hunham’s ‘history’ in this school and suggests he’s been ‘held over’ in this role for a while) to supervise five students left on campus during the holiday break, including Angus, whose family trip back home is cancelled by his mother so that she can honeymoon with her new husband. So, Angus is now forced to spend time with Hunham. Besides these ‘Holdover’ boys, there is Mary, the cafeteria manager who has lost her only son and an ex-student of this college to the Vietnam War (a clever choice given the story era and Mary’s son being a black blue-collar kid).
Now, the film continues to masterfully exploit all the traits set up for Hunham’s character in the first 10 minutes: he makes choices out of his tight principles that don’t allow the already homesick boys much relief and even pushes them to exercise in the cold and study for hours in the library while the whole college is on holidays! This creates conflict among the boys, and we get to know each of them, mostly Angus, a bit deeper by showing his other dimensions and surprisingly his vulnerable side (when he tries to console his Korean roommate). The film does it all by adding a touch of situational comedy brilliantly performed by Paul Giamatti and his supporting cast. This goes on until one of the boys’ rich dads comes to his rescue and all the other boys manage to get their parents’ permission to leave with them for the family’s skiing holiday except for Angus, who can’t even get his parents on the phone. This event takes us into the second act where it’s ‘Hunham vs. Angus’, so to speak, and the script brings in Mary as a great moderator between the two.
Hunham’s strict rules and being left alone at Christmas pushes Angus to the edge. He tries to book a motel to escape the frustrating discipline, but he is stopped by Hunham, who is too smart to be tricked. This creates the second verbal conflict between them, which escalates when Angus challenges Hunham to follow him physically, but it ends up with him dislocating his shoulder. The characters’ value of connection is at a further negative now and this could mean Angus or Paul getting expelled from the school. (Two)
With Angus’ sensitive side established in the scenes with other boys, the script gives the young man his first noble action. When Angus realises that Hunham could lose his job if they use the school’s insurance for his shoulder injury and report this, he lies to the nurse and introduces Hunham as his divorced dad (a choice that we later realise has some truth in Angus’ life) and saves Hunham out of this trouble. It is a great surprise to both Hunham and the audience and a turning point in their relationship. For the first time, the value charge of their connection turns positive, and the script beautifully brings them a bit closer by sharing this secret. (Three)
David Hemingson also mentioned that by ‘putting the characters on the same side of a lie’, he brought the characters closer to each other, since sharing a secret creates more intimacy among characters. On top of that, the script avoids sentimentalising this action and Angus immediately hits back at Paul with his wit that ‘he owes him now since he lied for him.’
The dynamic of their relationship continues very cleverly: To unwind from their eventful day, they decide to eat out at a bar where Angus gets into trouble with two tough guys due to his arrogant nature and is saved by Hunham’s intervention. (Another positive value charge for their connection.) (Four)
But not only that, the script brings in Lydia the secretary from the beginning of the film who works at the bar to Hunham’s surprise. This results in the pair getting an invitation to her Christmas party and, Angus noticing Hunham’s interest in her and his low self-esteem with women, which is yet another reveal about Hunham’s character. Now that the characters have come closer together through sharing a secret and getting each other out of trouble, the next turning point comes at the right time when Angus finally dares reveal to Hunham that his body smells, which to his surprise Hunham admits and discloses is due to a condition in his body. Which in turn makes Angus mention that he goes to a shrink. This secret revealing happens at the right time and after characters have been through a major event together. And with this, the value charge of connection has swept a few levels to the positive again. (Five)
To make the characters’ relationships even more dynamic, Mary is written to be the completing element of this brilliant duo, turning it into a dynamic trio. The script takes her from a side role and makes her a bonding element between the two men.
Robert McKee teaches in his Character book that if you want to reveal different traits and dimensions of your protagonist, you have to surround them with a different cast, so each cast member draws out a specific aspect of your protagonist(s). This is why Mary’s character is so essential to the Hunham-Angus dynamic and their other dimensions. She brings a maternal energy to this masculine duo. Hunham bonds with her over their solitude and lets us see his more vulnerable side and his unfulfilled ambitions, since he respects Mary and she questions his lonely lifestyle and strict ways. On the other hand, she balances Hunham’s strict side to Angus with her maternal presence, especially since she has lost a son Angus’s age (the script cleverly mirrors Mary’s son with Angus and the possibility of him being sent to war if he gets expelled from the college) and she defends Angus where Hunham is too tough on him.
In Robert McKee’s words, stories should unfold and go effortlessly from one scene to another, and this film does exactly so. With the seed of the party planted earlier, we get one of the climaxes of the film as the trio and Danny, the janitor, go to Lydia’s party. Great scripts do not use cheap surprises and connect any surprising actions to the characters’ core that they built for us. So, at the party, all three characters have decisive moments: Angus kisses the host’s niece and for the first time feels this ‘holdover’ holiday is working for him, while on the contrary, Hunham finds out Lydia has a boyfriend which subverts our expectations and shows us his unlucky strike with women that was hinted before. Mary finally has an emotional breakdown over the loss of her son, which makes Hunham asking them to leave the party. When Angus disobeys him, Hunham harshly admits that he doesn’t even like spending time with him and references Angus’s father, which makes Angus reveal his father is dead. Mary scolds Hunham for his unsympathetic behaviour and we get another turning point that surpasses the previous ones in its emotional weight and our characters’ value charge of connection shifts to negative. The script still follows the same pattern of revealing a new secret and exposing the characters’ past/history, which in turn affects their connection. (Six)
To make up for his behaviour, Hunham arranges a Christmas celebration where Mary once again acts as the moderator between our two characters, convincing Hunham to take Angus to Boston as a ‘Field trip’ to grant his Christmas wish. This takes us to what Robert McKee would call the Crisis in the story. Mary’s arc is completed by departing from them on the way to Boston to join her sister where she gives away her son’s baby clothes, coming to terms with her loss.
With our protagonists alone together at last, the script peaks their connection in multiple layers in the ‘Boston sequence’: Hunham takes Angus to a museum where he makes him interested in history through an ancient erotic vase that ends up with Angus sharing another secret with him that ‘All teachers and students hate Hunham’ and encourages him that he can make history and himself interesting. This scene is remarkably paralleled when Angus teaches Hunham bowling, and the teacher reminds him that everybody hates Angus! (Seven)
Then when we expect it the least, comes the biggest reveal of the script for Hunham. They run into one of his old classmates from Harvard where Hunham lies about his life to him, and Angus plays along. Claiming once again that Hunham owes him now, (like in the hospital scene), he confesses to Angus that he was fired from Harvard for a plagiarism accusation and hitting his classmate with a car. This only raises Angus’ respect and admiration for him, and it feels that their connection is at its most positive when Hunham announces that his classmates are ‘not entitled to know his story’, which means he now trusts Angus with his most private secret in his ‘history’. Once again, the same strategy continues: revealing Hunham’s biggest secret and trusting Angus with it that forms a deeper level of intimacy between them and elevates their friendship to a father and son like relationship. (Seven)
But this brilliant script has even more in the bag for us. Just when we established the peak of their relationship, Angus bails Hunham in a cinema (where they ironically watch a scene from ‘Little Big Man’ between a ‘father and son’) and seemingly betraying his trust. Hunham catches him again of course, but he surprisingly asks him to join in meeting his supposedly deceased father. This is where we get the great reveal that Angus’ father is alive but kept in a mental hospital. With this, Angus’ history is fully revealed to Hunham and during their stay he even discovers that Angus is using the same antidepressants as him, revealing that they both suffer from depression; another shift to positive for the two men’s connection, which now the script is cleverly suggesting they seem to mirror each other in two periods of their lives. (Eight)
The whole ‘Boston sequence’ is a brilliant lesson in screenwriting, on how a writer wastes no possibility and takes any chance-meeting or event to turn them into a meaningful action in line with the plot progression and the characters’ objectives in the scenes, which in turn prepares the third act of the script for a well earnt resolution in its finale.
It’s worth considering that the script could have ended with their return from Boston, which would be a decent up-ending story on its own, but the writers chose to exceed themselves once again.
Upon their return, our now deeply bonded holdovers celebrate the new year, and as the College soon reopens, it seems the worst is behind them until Hunham gets a surprise call from the headmaster’s office where he‘s confronted by Angus’ mother and stepfather for allowing Angus’ visit of his mentally unstable father against their permission. The attention to detail is brilliant, when we find out a snow globe Angus was playing with briefly earlier in Boston, is the film’s Chekov’s gun and is the only thing that gave them away. This is also the ultimate test of character for Hunham, since Angus’s mother and stepfather threaten to withdraw Angus from the college and send him to military academy as punishment. So Hunham chooses to lie and take responsibility to defend Angus and instead, he gets fired from school. The value charge of connection not only peaks but now elevates to devotion and brings the Hunham-Angus relationship to a full circle. (Nine)
It’s remarkable to note that the script does not leave any of its devices unused: Remembering his quote from Cicero in the same office, we realise Hunham has just fulfilled that quote with his final choice: “Not for ourselves alone are we born.”
The final scene gives us a perfect ending to these two men’s story, where we realise there was another theme going on in the film all along; with all the emphasis on the role of history in Hunham’s life and the ‘histories’ revealed of the two men, it’s as if Hunham was seeing his own past in Angus’ present and saving Angus’ future without even realising it up until the memorable farewell scene between them. This is an ironic ending (both positive and negative in its value charges) where Hunham leaves his home and workplace and setting to an unknown destination (a strong negative professionally), whereas his worldview went on an arc from a negative (antisocial strict loner) to a positive (standing up for someone else to save their future to the point of losing his job and status), which also means changing Angus’ arc to a meaningful positive. After all, “Not for ourselves alone are we born.”
Ali Mozaffari is a Melbourne based emerging filmmaker, freelance film critic and full time cinema buff and art enthusiast. He finished a Foundation Film & TV course at VCA in 2018 and been making short films and video essays ever since and often muses on the cinematic form and write on it.
