The final shot of The Family Stone is meant to devastate you. As the titular family decorates the Christmas tree in the epilogue, the camera slowly zooms in on the photo hanging on the wall of their late matriarch, Sybil (Diane Keaton)—a scene that warrants tears every time. But this year, which marks the film’s 20th anniversary, those final moments are all the more poignant and emotionally brutal, given the loss of Diane Keaton this past October.
Over those twenty years, The Family Stone has slowly cemented its place as a holiday classic—despite certain plot quirks that, on paper, might seem preposterous. “Prodigal son” Everett (Dermot Mulroney) bringing his soon-to-be fiancée Meredith (Sarah Jessica Parker) home for Christmas, only for them to split up and start dating each other’s respective siblings, is admittedly out there. But that sprinkle of absurdity is part of the fun of this Christmas farce, which culminates in a madcap, Strata-filled chase around the house set to The Nutcracker’s “Trepak.” If you can suspend your disbelief for every Christmas movie that takes us to the North Pole, you can deal with a strange sibling switcheroo.
The true heart of this movie, however, is Keaton. As matriarch Sybil Stone, she is, simply put, at her most Diane Keaton. She does just about everything that you want to watch her do in a movie: She’s warmly maternal and effortlessly cool, she screeches and cries, she grits her teeth in annoyance, and she even wears a crisp white button-down shirt to bed.
As the film progresses, we slowly find out that the real driving force at play is that Sybil is sick. While she’s trying to keep that from her children to give them a happy Christmas, she’s also trying to make sure they’re all on the right path, because soon she won’t be there to help them. She worries that Everett’s proposal is misguided and tells him, “Tough shit!” when he asks for her mother’s wedding ring. She conversely butts in to encourage Amy (Rachel McAdams) to rekindle things with an old flame. And when her gay son Thad’s (Tyrone Giordano) sexuality becomes a topic of conversation, she tearfully assures him, “You are more normal than any other asshole sitting at this table.”
The Family Stone celebrates its 20th anniversary this December, just two months after Diane Keaton died at the age of 79.
Rather than just being the film’s matriarch in a broad, generic sense, the relationship she has with each child is distinct, giving the feeling that this family existed long before the movie started. Those lived-in bonds give the Stones authenticity and depth; they’re loving yet share a cool, sardonic sensibility that keeps things from ever drifting too saccharine or trite. And what really highlights those bonds? Facing a common enemy.
Enter Meredith, Everett’s uptight, throat-clearing girlfriend, whom the laid-back family rallies against before she even walks through the door. When it comes to movie villains, there’s the Joker, Hannibal Lecter, Darth Vader…and Meredith Morton. At least, that’s what you’d think based on how everyone treats her—particularly Amy, the “mean sister,” who gleefully revels in torturing this outsider, whether it be with snarky asides or blatantly accusing her of racism during charades.
Meredith’s arrival for the holidays brings out the Stones’ family bonds.
Watching Keaton and McAdams wage psychological warfare on Parker, to me, is what Christmas is all about. The movie understands that there’s genuinely no better holiday tradition, and nothing more sacred and joyful, than talking shit with your mom in the kitchen about someone’s annoying plus-one. While they express their contempt differently—Sybil trying and failing to be warm, Amy breaking the Geneva Conventions to torture Meredith—their shared feelings highlight their mother-daughter bond. Commiserating with an ally over someone else’s presence is perhaps the strongest love language there is. Sure, some might argue that Meredith did nothing wrong, or that being annoying isn’t a crime. To that I say: Yes, it is.
Parker’s Meredith perfectly juxtaposes with Keaton’s laid-back Sybil.
But still, a conflict like this has to walk a very fine line—and the movie triumphs at pulling it off. The film has to justify the Stones’ disdain for Meredith while leaving enough wiggle room for her (and her relationship with the family) to be redeemed in the second act. Her obnoxious quirks and faux pas give the rest of the relatives permission to complain, but by keeping those offenses largely subjective (with perhaps the exception of her accidental homophobia at dinner), there’s room for these relationships to be repaired. After all, they’ll have to be if she starts dating the other brother.
Parker’s performance is pivotal to striking that balance. She understands when to lean farcical (for example, her slapstick delivery of “I DIDN’T KNOW” when informed about Everett’s mushroom allergy) and when to lean into Meredith’s more conservative, pent-up nature. Those qualities perfectly juxtapose Keaton’s laid-back, chill take on Sybil, so much so that their incompatibility would be palpable from body language alone.
Keaton, Tyrone Giordano, Claire Danes, Craig T. Nelson, and Dermot Mulroney in The Family Stone.
These characters, and the way in which they either torture or love each other, are just one element that makes audiences return to The Family Stone each year. But the true key to rewatchability (a must for any holiday film) is creating an atmosphere that the viewer wants to visit over and over again. The Stones’ warm, lived-in New England home, covered in snow and overflowing with family members, is exactly the kind of place you’d want to spend an hour and 45 minutes every Christmas season, especially when Sybil is at the head of the table.
Falling in love with Sybil Stone is so easy because it’s Diane Keaton we’re looking at. That built-in adoration the audience has for her amplifies the film’s impact, and this year, makes the ending all the more heartbreaking as we’re forced to say goodbye to her again. After the Stone family’s hectic Christmas comes to an end, with feuds repaired and siblings appropriately paired up, we flash forward to the next year, when there’s an absence in the house that, even in that short epilogue, feels gaping. Not just because it’s Sybil we’re missing, but because it’s Diane.
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