FRANCES WHITING

“These holiday classics remind us that nothing is permanent”

There are legions of women – and I mean legions – who have never forgiven Alan Rickman for not giving Emma Thompson that damn necklace.

If you don’t know what I am talking about, then perhaps you’ve never seen the movie Love Actually or have never discovered that the one you love (actually) has been unfaithful.

The scene I’m referring to is where Thompson, as Karen, unwraps her Christmas present in front of her family, fully expecting it to be the gold necklace she had spied in her husband Harry’s (Rickman) pocket earlier, only to open a sodding Joni Mitchell CD.

And look, I love Joni Mitchell as much as the next girl, but frankly if Karen wasn’t depressed enough after discovering the necklace was intended for another, then listening to “Both Sides, Now” sure as hell wasn’t going to help.

I’ve always thought Thompson deserves some sort of special Oscar for that three minutes and 17 seconds of cinematic brilliance when she opens the CD, goes into her bedroom, has a quiet nervous breakdown, then rejoins the family with a bright smile that breaks the heart of anyone who has ever watched it.

And the chances are many of you have, because Love Actually is one of those movies in the summer holidays/ festive season stable, isn’t it?

One of those ones – like Home Alone or Back to the Future – that we gather together to watch each season, only to remember too late about the porno bit.

Yes, every year it’s the same thing; there we are all thoroughly enjoying Hugh Grant and his hair as the British Prime Minister, when suddenly those two people playing pornographic actors appear, and start having sex in various locations across London. Always a special holiday moment with the children.

The thing is I watched Love Actually again over the Christmas break, and what struck me, apart from Thompson’s tour de force performance (and also the late, great Rickman’s) is how things we once loved, or didn’t question, can change profoundly over time.

In Love Actually, for example, there’s the bloke who is meant to be filming his best friend’s wedding, but only takes close-ups of the bride, and then later shows up at her door, and makes her read a series of giant, whiteboard cards in silence. When this movie first came out, we all thought he was adorable; now, we all think she should call security.

Watching Home Alone 2: Lost in New York (look I have children; I’m not watching Metropolis in the holidays) reminded me of a time that now seems so much more innocent.

There was Donald Trump, striding through the lobby of the Plaza Hotel, before he turned into Dr Evil, and both Twin Towers in silhouette on the skyline, still standing.

All these holiday classics, watched by generations, season after season, reminding us that everything changes, and nothing is permanent.

But Emma Thompson’s shaking hands as she smooths the bed? Timeless.