The ‘90s ‘Miracle on 34th Street’ Is a Luxe Christmas Classic

For a fleeting moment, the 1990s flirted with being the Luxe Decade, an era of total glamour unseen since the heyday of Hollywood. Grunge rose and fell, the lights faded on neon bike shorts, a generation outgrew their polkadot scrunchies, and–seemingly out of nowhere–pop culture was very into the put-together elegance of the 1930s and 1940s. You can see it in the debut seasons of Frasier, Friends, and NewsRadio or the Coen Brothers’ Hudsucker Proxy among many other places. They’re all pop culture artifacts from an era when blinding and busy prints were out and Earth tones were in–really in. But that moment passed fast, because pleather, animal prints, belly shirts, puka shells, and neon (you cannot kill neon!) were the true successor to the early ’90s aesthetic and we’d all ride that killer wave into the new millennium.

But that 18-month wave of vintage nostalgia gave us more than just Chandler’s frankly ridiculous art deco-inspired neckties and Jimmy James’ loosely tailored double-breasted suits. It gave us a remake of Miracle on 34th Street, one that brought all of the elegance of the 1947 original to life in living color, serving as a timeless snapshot of a truly unique moment in time. It’s been just over 25 years since the remake hit theaters, and not only has the film’s style aged gracefully, but so has the film itself. Miracle on 34th Street is a luxe Christmas classic that deserves to be revisited every single holiday season.

Now, am I biased towards Miracle on 34th Street because I saw it in theaters when I was 10 years old and rewatched it every year since, as the film immediately became my family’s irreplaceable Christmas Eve movie? Sure. But I’m also incredibly biased towards Christmas as a holiday, concept, and basis for one’s existence, and I wholeheartedly proclaim that 1994’s Miracle on 34th Street has never failed to deliver when I’m looking for a dose of Christmas cheer. Not only does the film boast quite possibly the greatest live-action Santa Claus of all-time, played with daffy authority and genuine warmth by the legendary Sir Richard Attenborough, it counts a pre-Practice Dylan McDermott, a post-Flintstones Elizabeth Perkins, and a post-Mrs. Doubtfire Mara Wilson among its stellar, star-studded cast. And, to get back to the reason for this seasonal article, they all look fantastic.

Perkins plays Dorey Walker, a mother who made the call to tell her daughter, played by Wilson, that there is no Santa Claus. While that parenting decision is questionable in the world of a Christmas movie, the way they’re styled and lit is unquestionable.

That family doesn’t believe in Santa but they believe in looking put together. You know who else is a stealth style icon in this movie? Santa Claus.

Santa–or rather Kris Kringle–ain’t no slouch! His beard is trim, his topcoat is right, he’s a vision of vintage perfection. But nothing compares to what the wardrobe department did to Dylan McDermott. Now, McDermott doesn’t need much, or really any, help being show-stoppingly handsome. But cast him as lawyer and incredibly presumptive quasi-boyfriend Bryan  Bedford?

Sweet Christmas! Before there was Chris Evans in Knives Out, there was Dylan McDermott in Miracle on 34th Street.

You have to give it up to the entire wardrobe department for these inspired and cozily chic choices, but the real star has to be cinematographer Julio Macat who makes literally everyone on screen radiate warmth, like a yule log wrapped in a cashmere cable-knit sweater. I’m sorry–can we just go back to McDermott for a bit? Because…

I’d ask “Who gave him permission?” but I know the answer is no one. It’s all Christmas magic.

But the real star of the entire movie isn’t McDermott. It is, rightfully so, Attenborough’s Santa. This isn’t a St. Nick that’s decked out in Party City polyester. No, he’s wearing what is without a doubt the best, most accurate (as accurate as a costume for a mythological figure that’s been reinterpreted across countries and cultures and centuries) depiction of the right jolly old elf that’s ever appeared on film.

I know that’s actually dino-crazy John Hammond in a Santa get-up, but this suit and Attenborough’s performance are enough to convince me that he’s the real deal. With every scene, from the ASL “Jingle Bells” moment to his courtroom outburst (“That’s! Not! True!”), Attenborough creates a Santa that is both inspirational and flawed. He feels, more than the deus ex machinas of other Christmas films, like an actual character–and all of that is enhanced because he looks so on the money. Also, if you’ve seen the 1994 Miracle on 34th Street every single year for the past 25 years like I have, then you’ll know why “on the money” is a pretty clever idiom for this post. You’re welcome.

My Sir Attenborough appreciation leads me to my larger point: beyond the beautiful look of this film exists some really beautiful performances. Perkins adds an internal warmth to her ice queen, and Wilson is at the peak of her precocious kid powers. There’s really an argument to be made that Wilson delivers the best kid performance of all time in a Christmas movie, as the script calls on her to do everything from land complicated laugh lines (“Would it please the court if I gave you your Christmas card? I probably won’t get another chance to see you, unless I get arrested–which is very unlikely since it’s Christmas Eve and I’m going to bed uncharacteristically early”) to convey the existential struggle playing out inside her heart over whether or not to believe in Santa. Much respect to Macaulay Culkin and Peter Billingsley, but Wilson’s got them beat.

The film even gives us one full minute of unfiltered Allison Janney, wherein she sinks her teeth into the role of “woman who tells the store manager that Santa is sending shoppers elsewhere.”

This role, literally a minute of screen time, was so powerful that it’s still what I think of when I see Janney today. As far as I’m concerned, that angry mom wanted a Barf Gun for Tonya Harding.

All of this, the well-rounded characters, scene-stealing performances, lovely lighting, and lush costumes combine to place the 1994 Miracle on 34th Street in the top tier of must-watch Christmas movies. It’s a beautiful cultural artifact from a generally overlooked period of the 1990s, but it’s also more than that. It’s timeless, an evergreen reminder of how great it feels to get lost in the Christmas spirit. It feels like as cozy as slipping into a cashmere sweater, as empowering as buttoning up a bespoke tweed suit, and as warm as your comfiest set of pajamas.

Where to watch Miracle on 34th Street