Last year, I took a closer look at the holiday classic “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.”  For this Christmas, I want to delve into “Home Alone,” more specifically, why Uncle Frank is the worst and the reason behind everything bad that happens.

It’s easy to blame Kevin.  He’s practically the youngest around, the other kids describe him as essentially helpless, he’s at the center of the major conflict in the beginning of the movie and ends up telling his own mother he wished she would vanish from the Earth.

So not a strong start for Lil’ Kev.  But lurking nearby without any repercussions for his actions is Uncle Frank.  He’s the one who sets everything in motion.

The first thing he does is start the process of beating Kevin down by not letting him watch the movie with everyone else.  As Kevin says, he’s “just being a jerk.”  We’re talking about a guy who will grab all your pizzas and say someone else will cover the bill.

Uncle Frank has a son named Fuller, which is a dumb enough name that I’m sure Frank picked it.  Fuller has a known bed-wetting problem after ingesting liquids.  So what does he have with the pizza?  A Pepsi.  Who likely told him he could have it?  Perhaps a nearby parent?  The one sitting right next to him?  Looking at you, Frank.

Oh and what’s on the other side of Uncle Frank?  That’s right, a 2-liter bottle of Pepsi, which we see just as Kevin’s mom walks past and says she hopes everyone is drinking milk.  Way to go, Frank.

Back to Kevin.  He’s being further persecuted by brother Buzz, who informs Kevin that the family has collectively eaten the only kind of pizza Kevin likes.  It’s been like four minutes.  The pizza guy is still lurking at the front door waiting for someone to give him some cash.  Kevin makes a run at Buzz, and milk goes all over the plane tickets because NOBODY DRANK THE MILK.

Oh Fuller’s getting up to get involved now?  I wonder where he learned to stick his nose in things that aren’t his business (see Frank, Uncle).  Also note that Kevin’s dad is now spilling the bottle of Pepsi that shouldn’t have been open in the first place.  Thank you, Frank.

Uh oh.  Kevin, you are not going to Paris.

Uncle Frank jumps in to lead the pitchfork mob against Kevin.  He’s extra salty because some of the spilled Pepsi got on his pants: “Look what you little jerk!”  Maybe next time don’t open the Pepsi, Frank, and you won’t have to cast blame on others.

Frank’s method is effective though.  Now everyone’s mad at Kevin.

At this point, how should the kid feel?  I mean, if every single person is going to look at you with daggers and call you names, wouldn’t you wish they would all disappear?   Kevin suggests they all go suck a lemon, while his mom agrees to make leakypants Fuller sleep somewhere else.

In case you’re not fully convinced that Uncle Frank is a bad dude, he’s the kind of guy who steals salt and pepper shakers off an American Airlines flight as Kevin wakes up HOME ALONE in an attic.

Kevin’s mom realizes during the flight that he is not with them.  She laments, “What kind of mother am I?”  Uncle Frank responds with his brand of charm, saying if it makes her feel any better, he left his glasses at home.  NOT THE SAME, FRANK.

Frank’s brother and wife have clearly had too many years of this crap.  They know his game.  Their many wishes for him to disappear have gone unfulfilled.

Back at home, Kevin is exhausted from a fitful night’s rest up in the attic following the trauma of the previous evening.  He falls asleep in a recliner, and is lucky he wakes up when trouble arrives.

The kid could have been killed the first night during the events that Uncle Frank caused, but somehow rallies to ward off the danger.  And no, he wasn’t snoozing in that chair because it was super late.  After Kevin chases off the robbers the first time, he hides under his parents’ bed.  Their clock shows it’s not even 8 p.m.

(WebMD suggests 8-year-old Kevin could have a bedtime as early as 7:30, but he was almost surely asleep before this, and given the range listed 8-8:30 is probably a more normal bedtime for him.)

Back in France, the family is now frantic to try to reacquire Kevin.  His mom runs to a phone, kicks off a French woman and hangs up on the kind lady’s call.

Who knows who was on the other end of that phone.  The French woman’s mother?  Boyfriend?  Therapist?  The French FBI?  Santa?  Who knows what they were discussing.  How to cook a turkey?  How to cook a turkey?  How to cook a turkey?  How to stop a terrorist from cooking a turkey?  Could Santa please bring a turkey?

Uncle Frank is a menace who unleashes crises on multiple continents.  He must be held accountable for his actions, not Kevin.

We also need to talk about two other quick things, starting with Kevin’s mom in that last shot.  She’s asking her sister-in-law to call everyone in her address book.  That would be the address book she brought with her on vacation to Paris.  I understand it’s not 2014 and she doesn’t have all her contacts in her iPhone.  But barring this completely freak disaster, why would she ever need even one of those numbers?  As the guy’s face behind her says it all: unplug, lady.

And finally, back in the beginning of the movie, why does the cop-acting robber open the door when the pizza guy rings?

If he’s a real cop, he’s not opening the door to an unknown person and then turning his back.  If he’s a robber, why add another set of eyes that could later place him in the house that he plans to rob?

Criminals are dumb.  And Uncle Frank still sucks.