How’s that for a rage-inducing title? What do you figure is the more likely outcome: People seeing the title and scoffing as they scroll past it because the idea sounds so ludicrous, or they click and read it just to see how wrong the argument is to justify such a horrid thesis? If you belong to the second group, welcome to the party (pal). Even if it’s a hate-click, your curiosity is appreciated. Now, onto it, let’s just say this so it’s said—there are a lot of unintended S’s in that sentence—we’re not dethroning It’s a Wonderful Life. The film is comparable to something like To Kill a Mockingbird, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Tom Hanks, and putting peanut butter on brownies: some things in life are just objectively good. The only thing that could improve the film is if it ended with Mr. Potter getting acquainted with Cliff Booth with the same level of courteousness that he gives uninvited hostile guests at Rick Dalton’s house in the middle of the night.

This isn’t to judge quality of content but rather to quantify definition. Comparing two perfect movies like Die Hard and It’s a Wonderful Life in terms of quality is like comparing apples to…different types of equally good apples. The question we want to pose and then immediately answer because one-sided conversations are so much better since you don’t have to do overrated things like making eye contact or worrying about whether unintentionally biting your bottom lip could be misconstrued—let’s not make this weird, but human interaction is confusing and terrifying—okay, look, it’s fine. The question we want to ask, which will likely be immediately shrugged off, is this: What constitutes a Christmas movie?

That seems easy enough to answer, right? There are some movies where you don’t even have to think about it because Christmas is right in the title, or it’s a play on a title or lyric of a famous Christmas song. You’ve got Dr. Seuss’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Ron Howard’s Dr. Seuss’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Arthur Christmas, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, A Christmas Story, A Christmas Carol, Silent Night, Violent Night, Silent Night, Deadly Night, its sequel/remake Silent Night, Deadly Night: Part 2, White Christmas, Black Christmas, Christmas with the Kranks, Henry Selick’s Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas, and the list goes on from now until always.

Here’s the rub and the obvious qualification that gives a film the exclusive honor of being located in the Christmas genre section of your local Blockbuster: Christmas has to be the inciting incident or the goal of the story. If you can take the holiday out and the narrative structure stays precisely the same, then it doesn’t count. All Christmas movies take place on or around Christmas, but not all movies on or around Christmas are Christmas movies. Not convinced? Okay, we’ll go a little deeper. Why is something like Gremlins a holiday classic among us fortunate few who are the right combination of being both sadistic and depraved, but Lethal Weapon—and while we’re at it, most films penned by Shane Black—is not? After all, both films take place on Christmas, there’s festive music, and hey, look at that, Riggs gives Murtaugh’s daughter a Christmas gift to pass onto Mister in the form of a bullet, and that’s heartwarming…in context.

The difference is the entire plot of Gremlins is set in motion because Billy’s dad gets him Gizmo as a Christmas gift. If Billy’s dad hadn’t had cause to look in a weird shop in Chinatown, he would’ve never found Gizmo, and the entire story wouldn’t have happened. The fact that most of the film takes place on Christmas Eve is incidental, but that’s the key component to lock it in as a Christmas movie. Compare that to Lethal Weapon, where the entire conspiracy that Murtaugh and Riggs are trying to solve is wholly divorced from the holiday season. Sure, Riggs does an undercover drug deal in a Christmas tree lot, and there’s holiday iconography spread throughout the runtime, but that’s all set dressing. If the film takes place in the summer, the narrative doesn’t change. It’s a Christmas-adjacent movie, not a Christmas movie. That being said, no one will judge you for it if you watch it over the holidays.

With that in mind, when you get to the sore subject of the endless debate on whether Die Hard is a Christmas movie or not, people love to either be super reductive to disprove it or scrape at every morsel of anything vaguely Christmas related as ironclad evidence to prove it. People will reference something as fickle as John McClane whistling “Jingle Bells” on his way to the elevator, and depending on their tone, they could be saying it sarcastically or with total conviction. We’re not interested in all of that or to get in the minutiae of the details. That being said, if you still don’t believe it’s a Christmas movie, you should know Quentin Tarantino says it definitely is, and he directed an episode of ER (among other things), so look at the scoreboard because it appears your team is losing.

If we’re going to stick purely to the criteria of a Christmas film being so because the story is predicated on it, remember that the only reason John McClane is at the party in Nakatomi Tower or even in the state of California is to be with his estranged family for Christmas. Two of the defining traits that people love about the character is he’s a reluctant hero and an underdog, but the added layer is that he’s completely out of his element. He’s a stranger in a strange land. He’s coming home—all things being relative—as a peace offering to be with his family for the holiday after a rough couple of months of being away. He doesn’t want to get involved with the hostage situation—he actively tries calling for help so the police can deal with it—he just wants to protect his wife. When you get down to it, everything that follows is a very violent and bloody attempt to reconnect with his wife and kids and be home for the holidays. He’s essentially Neal Page from Planes, Trains and Automobiles, with a body count.

It’s worth noting that Mr. Takagi (James Shigeta) announces to everyone attending the Christmas party—we’re not getting wrapped up in the little details—that it’s been one of the most profitable years ever for the Nakatomi Corporation, hence the massive amount of negotiable bearer bonds in the vault, hence why the terrorists—who aren’t terrorists—are at the party. Ellis (Hart Bochner) even has a line of dialogue explaining the significance of the party, stating that it’s a double celebration since they closed a large deal that same day. A deal that the intelligent and well-researched Hans Gruber (Alan Rickman) probably knew about, on top of knowing that there would be a Christmas party in a nearly empty building with minimal security. If you remove all of the Christmas visuals and music, you still have the hero and villain’s motivations to be at the Nakatomi Tower because it’s Christmas Eve. Everything else that’s Christmas-related is entirely incidental.

Is everyone still here? Is everyone still calm? Cool, because here’s when we get into the potentially rage-inducing viewpoints…It’s a Wonderful Life is barely a Christmas movie—FREEZE!! It’s okay; we’re all friends here. It’s still a great movie, you should watch it if you haven’t yet this month, and if you have already, you should watch it again because it really is that good. No one is refuting that. Take after the behavior of Fonzie or the title of a disappointing sequel to Get Shorty, and be cool. Are we good? You sure? It’s just that we never talk anymore—okay, take away the fact that the film’s director Frank Capra said in an interview with The Wall Street Journal that when he came across the book it was based on (The Greatest Gift by Philip Van Doren Stern), he didn’t think of it as a Christmas story. Just ignore that for a second since the difference between a director’s and an audience’s perception of a film can drastically differ. Based on the precedent set by the points made here and now on what constitutes a Christmas movie…how does It’s a Wonderful Life fit in the category?

Except for the festive opening credits, if you watched the movie with zero context of the plot, the film’s impact on pop culture, or its association with the holiday—that’s a lot of stretches to be made, but roll with it—you wouldn’t have any way of knowing that it’s considered a Christmas movie. It’s not even Christmas Eve until halfway through the film’s runtime. That’s because the film isn’t about the holiday; it’s a character piece about George Bailey, played by James Stewart, a selfless man who always puts the needs of his family and friends before himself. That’s not much of a stretch, considering Stewart fits in the role like a glove and is so unstoppably charming and endearing he can have amazing chemistry with just about anyone, even an invisible six-foot-tall rabbit.

What makes It’s a Wonderful Life so timeless is it paints a detailed picture of George and all the sacrifices he’s made to help the people around him when they needed him. In doing so, it makes the finale all the more satisfying when the town sees that he needs help and gives back to him without hesitation (Writer’s Note: Regardless of whether it’s a Christmas movie or not, the film has possibly the best ending in film history, and no one here is disputing that.) The first hour and change is effectively a prelude to the actual story of George’s uncle losing the money and George’s adventure in his own Mirror Mirror universe where everyone is mean and miserable, and his wife Mary (Donna Reed) is doomed to the She’s All That realm of having to wear glasses—which, according to movie logic and Not Another Teen Movie, that means she’s the personification of those people who drive through a red light on a metered on-ramp when there’s a line. The fact that the story past that point takes place on Christmas Eve is entirely irrelevant to the ebbs and flows of the narrative.

When it comes to the Cliff Notes of George’s life, there wasn’t a framing device that showed that he as a character was shaped because of his love for the holiday season or how the most critical moments revolved around the holidays. They’re essentially just sporadic events sprinkled throughout George’s life to set up the little ways he affected people’s lives. This comes into play when he goes to the alternate reality where he was never born and sees how different things are. You know the hits: his brother is gone, the shop owner, Mr. Gower, is a drunkard, and the town doesn’t have a movie theater anymore, which is the real tragedy of all of this. All of these horrible things could’ve happened if George wasn’t around to stop them, and this leads to the main reason why this isn’t a Christmas movie.

George’s newfound desire to live isn’t predicated on the spirit of the holiday. His love for his family and friends and the realization that he’s made a difference in so many people’s lives make him want to live again. There’s no overarching theme that amplifies his love for his family due to the love of Christmas. Even the town giving him money at the end isn’t indicative of being charitable during the holiday season—though that probably didn’t hurt—they did it purely to show how much he means to them, regardless of the time of year. George’s arc is wrapped up in a bow with the inscription that Clarence writes, “Remember, no man is a failure who has friends.” It’s different from something like A Christmas Carol, where Scrooge’s change of heart is presented through how the people around him celebrate Christmas and how his behavior affects the lives of others, how it’ll cost both him and them in the long run, and ultimately makes him more altruistic and empathetic. Christmas spirit makes Scrooge a better man, but George is already a good man who’s loved by so many, and he just needs to be reminded of it. That’s the lesson he learns. If he had experienced all this at any point of the year, the lesson would’ve resonated just as richly.

Is this all to say that this makes Die Hard better or makes It’s a Wonderful Life a lousy movie? Of course not. If you don’t watch one of them over the holidays, you’re crazy, but if you don’t watch either, you’re certifiably insane. Let’s be honest, if you were under the belief that Die Hard wasn’t a Christmas movie before going into this, nothing said here was going to change your mind, and the same can probably be said about It’s a Wonderful Life definitively being a Christmas movie. But you know what? To extend an olive branch, at least both films end with a Christmas song…wait, hold on. In It’s a Wonderful Life, they stop singing “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” and switch to “Auld Lang Syne,” which is associated with New Year’s Eve…Huh.