"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way..."

Do you also hear this sound of jingling bells, this scent of mistletoe and sweets, these voices of children celebrating? If yes, as I hope, then you too are immersed in that "magical" period called... yes, you know what it's called.

Therefore, being in the time of the mythical "sol Invictus" prompted me to revisit this masterpiece by maestro Monicelli, set precisely in the period of Santa's red and the elves' green.

The plot is quickly recounted, as slender as it is: four families gather for the December holidays at the parents' house; and everything seems to go well until the aforementioned parents have the idea to propose to the children to move into one of their homes.

Thus, arguments break out among the four families, and long-buried resentments, sordid jealousies, and shady betrayals come to light until... Until the good men and women who make up these affectionate nuclei have the brilliant idea to gift a nice gas stove to the parents and ensure it explodes precisely on New Year's Eve, sending those dear and never-too-praised parents sky-high.

There aren't many dull moments in the film, except perhaps the ending, with the New Year's Eve party analyzed too precisely.

It's a bitter film, nonetheless, that nails us to our emotional responsibilities: whether we are children, parents, or grandparents, it doesn't matter. What matters is trying to be as "human" as possible with our relatives, even if we don't like them or find them too different from us.

Paolo Panelli's performance is extraordinary, especially when the grandson tests his English by asking: "What is this?" and he responds, from the heights of his grandparental wisdom: "mo' te do no schiaffo!"

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