The Holly and the Ivy

A fine play in a 1950s screen version, wonderfully cast - Ralph Richardson is the parson who has bred a dysfunctional family (daughters Celia Johnson and Margaret Leighton, son Denholm Elliott).

When the family comes together at Christmas, with the two maiden aunts - the holly and ivy represented in human form? - secrets tumble out, the family comes together, and peace and understanding comes to pass as it should in the festive season.

Leighton's flighty daughter with the grief of a loss in the war hanging over her; Johnson's tired and emotionally drained woman in love (with John Gregson, about to emigrate for his work); Elliott's Army private bristling against authority at all levels - all these characterisations are spot-on.

But the film belongs to Richardson - quietly watching and waiting for his moment in the sun, a long speech to his daughter - although he is saddled with a slightly odd accent.

The Holly and the Ivy is a heartwarming fable of Christmas and should be much better known than it is - can we have a television showing this season?