Nativity: Wholesome Trilogy or Horror Show?
Image Credit: Jonny Hughes via Flickr
December rolls around: hot chocolates are poured, you huddle under blankets, and settle in for a Christmas movie. One of the most beloved festive films for the British Gen-Z has to be Nativity - the story of a junior school class led by an overly enthusiastic and (seemingly) innocent teaching assistant, who encourages them to perform a Nativity play.
In reality, however, the Nativity franchise follows a middle-aged man who likely should be in jail and certainly shouldn’t be allowed within 100 feet of children. Each year that I sit down to begin my annual rewatch, I grow increasingly horrified at the behaviour of the adults in all three films. One begins to wonder whether safeguarding even exists in this world.
Of course, with every film there is an element of suspending one’s disbelief, which is why I let it slide that the class has an age variation of around 10 years and that a donkey can travel from England to New York, but, personally, I draw the line at teachers suspending children (by wires) from the top of Coventry Cathedral, lying to literally everyone they encounter, and stealing children, animals and plane tickets.
Remarkably, throughout all this turmoil, the parents remain unconcerned. For instance, in Nativity 2: Danger in the Manger, a girl takes her baby sister on an unplanned trip to Wales, nobody knows where they are as they trek through the mountains and not once do we see this baby fed: the mum’s reaction? A deadpan delivery of: “They might have a baby…my baby.” By the third movie, all pretence of parents even caring is lost, as the children have a sleepover with a random man before jetting off to New York. It seems the Nativity Cinematic Universe is one in which DBS checks and Safeguarding training don’t exist.
Potentially most frustrating is the franchise’s pattern of gaslighting any and all reasonable teachers that enter, until they are just as delusional as their nepotistic classroom assistant, Mr Poppy. David Tennant’s character makes a valiant effort to deter the trip to Wales, having to be physically restrained by the children so he doesn’t call a responsible adult. Yet only a handful of minutes pass and his reluctance in travelling via inflatable boats is solely due to his fear of them, not the fact that they are stolen property, or that the rapids are incredibly dangerous for children to navigate.
Despite Mr Poppy continuously putting the children at risk, upsetting everyone around him, and committing various crimes, everyone seems to accept that he’s part of the school. Let’s be clear: he is a terrible role model, encouraging disruptive behaviour (telling the children to attack Mr Shepard) and lying to authority (What song for Christmas?). Educationally, he has nothing to offer them either, as he demonstrates the mental age of his pupils.
Despite this trilogy undoubtedly being a safeguarding nightmare, it’s impossible to ignore the charms. Each year as I’m slandering it, I’m also wiping away tears as Oli spots his mum in the audience, Tommy speaks for the first time since his dad left, and Lauren begs her Dad to remember her. Also, let’s face it, the songs will be stuck in your head for weeks.
So, maybe we really do just have to ignore all the illegal acts of child endangerment and embrace the absurdity of Nativity for what it is: three very ridiculous but equally sweet Christmas classics that are sure to add a little ‘Sparkle and Shine’ to your day.