Name: Happiest Season
Genre: Romance, Comedy
Released: 2020-11-26T00:00:00+00:00
Cast: Kristen Stewart, Mackenzie Davis, Mary Steenburgen, Victor Garber, Alison Brie

The scene where Kristen Stewart’s Abby stands in the Caldwell family kitchen, her smile tightening as she’s introduced as “Harper’s orphan friend,” is the film’s most quietly devastating moment. Clea DuVall’s Happiest Season (2020) isn’t just a holiday rom-com; it’s a sharp, painful dissection of performative heterosexuality and the emotional labor LGBTQ+ people endure for family acceptance.

DuVall, co-writing with Mary Holland, crafts a story that feels achingly personal—a semi-autobiographical take on her own experiences. Stewart delivers a performance of controlled vulnerability as Abby, the girlfriend asked to play the straight roommate. Her discomfort radiates in every forced smile and stilted conversation, particularly when she’s forced to endure Harper’s exes circling like vultures. Mackenzie Davis, as Harper, is equally compelling, oscillating between guilt-ridden anxiety and denial. The supporting cast—Mary Steenburgen as the perfectionist mom Tipper, Victor Garber as the campaigning dad Ted, and Alison Brie as the sister Sloane—add texture to the family dynamic, though some characters (looking at you, Dan Levy’s John) feel underutilized.

The film’s strength lies in its authenticity. DuVall doesn’t shy away from messy emotions or unresolved tensions. The Christmas Eve party scene, where Harper’s secret threatens to explode, is a masterclass in tension, culminating in Sloane’s unexpected outing of her sister. But the resolution feels rushed, as if DuVall couldn’t decide whether to end on a hopeful note or a realistic one. The final act leans into sentimentality, with Harper declaring her love for Abby in front of the family—an emotional payoff that might feel earned but lacks the nuance of earlier scenes.

The film’s originality lies in its subversion of genre tropes. It queers the formulaic holiday rom-com, turning it into a story about allyship and self-acceptance. The humor is sharp (Abby’s deadpan reactions to the family’s absurdities are golden), but the tone shifts abruptly between comedy and drama, sometimes jarringly.

Happiest Season isn’t perfect—its pacing stumbles in the third act, and some supporting characters feel one-dimensional.