Kringle Time feels like Marielle Heller’s A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood on crack. It's an eccentric yet poignant behind-the-scenes look at a small town, live-action children’s show about a magical snowman named Kringles.
Director Matthew Lucas and writer Zan Gillies unite biting dark comedy and emotional gravitas in this surprisingly ambitious story of workplace sexism, legacy, and facing your fears.
The film opens with a young Jerry Perkins (Jeremy Whitehead) who uses the bouncy children’s show “Kringle Time” as an escapist refuge from his parents’ domestic disputes. All of his familial tension melts away when he is hypnotized by the jovial singing and dancing on screen.
But Jerry’s childhood wonder evaporates when he grows up to become the station manager of his small town’s public access channel, where "Kringle Time" is still a children’s television staple. As the elder Jerry, Benny Elledge delivers a phenomenal performance that captures his emotional meltdown with an affecting authenticity.
The ensemble cast of station workers are eccentric and memorable. There’s Herb Kelly (a crusty Vernon Wells), the man behind Kringles who is a bitter drunk that drives away all of his interns, a high-strung executive director from corporate named Daphne (the uproariously manic Alyssa Keegan), and a group of theatre kids who serve as the showy chorus on “Kringle Time.” These satirical performances highlight Lucas’ absurdist framing of the backstage happenings.
“Kringle Time” is thrown into chaos when Herb suffers a heart attack live on air. Jerry gets to live out his dream by stepping into the snowman suit, but his vision for the show as a genuine educational platform comes into conflict with his boss. Unlike the Mr. Rogers children’s program which teaches children about the harsh realities of life, corporate wants “Kringle Time” to completely sanitize Herb’s on-air demise by openly declaring that death doesn’t exist. The sequences of the young wide-eyed, slack-jawed children watching the show at home are absolutely adorable and cement the idea that their young minds are impressionable and the media should carefully consider what they present to them.
Jerry’s disillusionment with everything surrounding “Kringle Time” worsens when he discovers Herb’s terrible secret and he must struggle with the idea that his childhood hero was an abusive tyrant, as well as whether or not he should reveal that information. Lucas dives into Jerry’s panicked subconscious throughout various surrealistic and nightmarish sequences. Inside his psyche, Kringles transforms into a spooky, Jack Frost-esque figure that forces him to confront the bleak truth of what really went on at the station. These fantasy scenes that wade into horror genre territory give the audience a strong sense of the deep inner turmoil that haunts Jerry.
Lucas’ inventive and vivid directorial choices compliment Gillies’ pitch-perfect script that is a potent combination of devilish cleverness and genuine, heartfelt pathos. The writing is superbly brought to life by the spirited cast. Kringle Time is a quirky treasure that marries broad, side-splitting comedy with hard-hitting cultural relevance, particularly the #MeToo movement. It boldly dares audience members to reject childhood nostalgia and recognize the imperfection and toxicity of their idols.