‘Love the Coopers’ Is A Holiday Horror Film Worth Seeing

Diane Keaton’s character from ‘The Family Stone’ has come back to haunt a new family!

Not since Charles Dickens in “A Christmas Carol” has one writer so boldly hinged an entire Christmas story on the spirit world, but that’s just what Steven Rogers’s done in his sequel to The Family Stone — Love the Coopers. Remember The Family Stone? What a wonderful film and instant classic starring Diane Keaton and a whole host of others who together are supposed to make up a “wacky” family home for the holidays. It was so wonderful that Rogers decided to make the same exact movie as it’s sequel, except this time things take a dark turn.

Rogers wisely skips referencing the (spoiler) passing of Diane Keaton’s character, Sybil, at the end of The Family Stone and gets right to setting the scene: Diane Keaton has returned as a ghost in human form to haunt a new family just in time for Christmas, and if they refuse her as their matriarch she will unleash the horrors of the undead onto the entire world.

And you thought you were stressed during the holidays!

If you’re wondering why Diane Keaton didn’t come back from the dead and haunt her own family the answer is simple: she’s a ghost — not a monster! Indeed, the Stones have been through enough, and another white family who considers themselves dysfunctional even though literally their only problem is a single divorce needs their retribution.

Gone is Sybil Stone who wears men’s button ups with scarves under housecoats. Charlotte Cooper wears men’s button ups under more men’s button ups! This is subtle screenwriting at its finest. A wink at the audience if you will. Oh, you won’t? Fine by me!

Charlotte finds a new earthly husband in Sam Cooper played by John Goodman. Another burly, successful sitcom actor from the ’90s? A little on the nose, Diane. Then there’s Ed Helms as their son, Hank, Olivia Wilde as their daughter, Eleanor, the appropriately aged choice of Marisa Tomei as Diane Keaton’s sister, Emma, and Alan Arkin as the grandfather, Bucky, who pretty much no one cares about. There’s such a lack of consideration for Alan Arkin’s character in relation to the family that for most of the movie I thought he was a weird neighbor who showed up all the time and eventually they just rolled with it.

The unnamed character in this movie is, of course… New York City. No, it’s the anticipation you feel wondering when the fourth wall of their current nightmare will be broken. Except Rogers masterfully navigates 106 minutes without even a hint from the Charlotte’s family that they are being held hostage by an entity that’s not their real mother but a spirit intent on opening her throat to release the sound of a thousand screams should anyone suggest otherwise.

The closest we get to any answers is an ominous flashback at the beginning of the movie that would explain how Sybil entered the family at the expense of the youngest Cooper — Charlotte’s daughter died years ago as a child, and the life force that left her body was likely intercepted by Sybil Stone.

Diane Keaton as Charlotte Cooper walks the line between manic pixie grandma and seductive dark lord mistress with such grace that you realize you’re watching one of the greatest actors of our time. The marriage between Charlotte and Sam is collapsing, the facade they put on for their children cries out INCEPTION, and while Charlotte entertains Sam’s threats to leave, she knows he won’t.

She even goes as far as taunting John Goodman’s character with several lines that repeat the sentiment that she doesn’t know who she is anymore and that she’s lost her old self, almost daring him to acknowledge the truth out loud. Truly chilling.

Olivia Wilde’s character Eleanor is so disturbed by her sinking position in the very loose net that holds order from chaos that she hangs out in an airport on purpose. She meets a Christian, republican, military man in uniform, and somewhere a straight woman in Tennessee just fainted from me even typing that phrase. In no way would Eleanor—who is depicted as this rogue modern woman—be like, “Wow, chill guy,” under normal circumstances, but with fear ever-present, the audience is treated to scenes of the two straight up just sitting in a terminal bars, walking on the moveable sidewalks, going up and down escalators, and sitting in food courts.

In this way I believe Rogers is paralleling this airport world where Eleanor pretends her new family doesn’t exist to a living hell — something she will experience later if she tries to act foolish at their family’s Christmas dinner.

Eleanor’s not the only one doing anything and everything in their power to postpone the inevitable. Emma, the 30 years younger sister, goes to the store and on a whim decides to shoplift by putting a giant burette in her mouth, which is the move of a woman who’s got nothing to lose.

The final showdown at Christmas dinner is not for the faint of heart. The way Charlotte regales her family around the fire with the cunning art of song eventually hypnotizes them into joining along with her, their faces washed with betrayal at the release of each note. Whose tongue is this if not mine?

The Christmas cheer doesn’t last long as slowly, each one begins to crack under the pressure. Charlotte can feel her perfect meal, her perfect family, her perfect Christmas slipping out from under her. She weirdly tells her family to “shut up and eat,” and when they don’t, she screams.

Darkness. As promised, they exist in it with her now.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Erin Sullivan is a writer on the internet. Find her at Autostraddle or Twitter.