(Credit: Netflix)

There are two types of Christmas movies out there: those that scream “CHRISTMAS” the whole time and those that don’t but still feel like they were made for this season. Klaus belongs to the second category. This animated classic does not have over-the-top snowball fights to make you feel something. It has a story so solid that it fills you with Christmas spirit without trying too hard.

Now, Klaus doesn’t come in with sleigh bells and sugar cookies. It starts with this spoiled postman, Jesper, who gets sent to the most miserable town you or anyone has ever seen. People there literally cross the street to avoid talking to each other. It’s cold and angry. No one writes letters. No one smiles. Basically, it is the last place you’d expect a story like this to unfold.

But that is kind of the point. Because slowly, and without turning it into a lesson, the story becomes something warmer. Jesper comes across Klaus, who is a tall, quiet man living alone in the woods. He is surrounded by wooden toys that he never gave away. They struck up a strange deal. Klaus gives the toys, Jesper delivers them, and suddenly, the kids in town start sending letters. That is how it all begins. Just letters. And that’s enough.

What works so well with Klaus is how it treats kindness. And the best part is that it is not performative. It happens in these small ways, like someone helping out without asking or letting go of a grudge without making a show of it. That’s what makes it hit you so hard. The people in the town don’t change overnight. They resist it. But it’s those small efforts that chip away at the bitterness, little by little.

Also, Klaus is gorgeous. The animation doesn’t feel like anything else you have seen lately. The speciality of this animated movie is that it is hand-drawn but has this softness to it, almost like everything’s been lit by candlelight. You can even see texture in the snow. Nothing feels rushed or thrown in for effect. And that’s the beauty of it.

Even the humour is gentle. There’s a bit of sarcasm, especially from Jesper in the beginning, but it never turns into a gag fest. You don’t get distracted, which is the core aim of the movie.

By the end, you are not crying because the movie told you to feel something. You are just sitting there, realising how far the story has come without ever shouting about it. That’s the beauty of it. It starts in a frozen, angry place and ends in something that feels earned.

So if you are looking for something loud or sparkly, this probably isn’t it. But if you want a Christmas Eve film that will stay with you for a long time and one that feels like watching someone slowly learn how to be better, Klaus is the one.