| DVD Roundup December 2003
 Scrooge: The December DVD
Villain Everyone Loves to Hate
Everyone has ghosts -- specters that haunt us for our sins,
apparitions that chronicle the pain of our mortal existence. These ghosts follow us and
mold our lives. Some are crippling, while others are no more than bittersweet lumps in the
psyche. All ghosts are the products of decisions we make. Some steer us down roads that
alter our lives, while others are simply there to set us straight when our behavior turns
self-destructive. We use many names to describe them: guardian angels, the human soul, the
conscience. And although, in Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, four ghosts
visit the miserly Ebenezer Scrooge, it’s debatable whether these ghosts are truly
from beyond the pale, or from the subconscious of a decrepit old man struggling to make
peace with himself.
Many consider It’s a Wonderful Life the classic
tale of Christmas, but I’d take grumpy old Ebenezer Scrooge over the slightly sappy
George Bailey any day -- I guess the Victorian atmosphere of Dickens’s tale appeals
to my macabre side. Or perhaps the character of Scrooge rings truer in a world where
everyone has a smidgen of Ebenezer buried deep down. We all like to believe that humans
have generous hearts and exceptional characters, but each one of us has days when a
"Humbug!" lurks just below our skin: a black cloud overhead, a splinter
underfoot, a fragment of underdone potato inside -- not a bad thing per se, just a fact of
life. The difference is that the majority of humans eventually snap out of this slump,
while Scrooge lived under his black cloud long enough to have forgotten the powers of
optimism and generosity. He is not an evil man, but a victim of childhood pain and lost
love who has lost faith in the human spirit. His physical body may be living, but his soul
is near death.
The fact that A Christmas Carol has been filmed so
many times speaks not only to Dickens’s storytelling prowess, but also to the
popularity the story has enjoyed since it was first written and published, in 1843.
Dickens lost money on that first edition because he chose to sell it at an outrageously
low price -- no doubt this tale about generosity overcoming greed had some bearing on that
decision. Still, the number of dollars and pounds the story has generated in reprints,
plays, and films would make even a money-hungry miser like Ebenezer blush.
Many fine actors have donned Scrooge’s scowl and
crooked heart: Alastair Sim, George C. Scott, Albert Finney, Henry Winkler, Patrick
Stewart, Cyril Ritchard, Seymour Hicks, Russell Thorndike, Jack Palance, and Bill Murray
have all offered interpretations. There are also the cartoon versions, compliments of
Mickey Mouse, Fred Flintstone, Bugs Bunny, The Muppets, and Mister Magoo. However, with
the exception of Michael Caine’s performance opposite the Pig and Frog, I never
believed the sinister aspects of Dickens’s text translated well to animation or
puppets. There must be a fair level of tension and horror for this story to be fully
experienced; the audience must feel the fear and loss experienced by Scrooge and the
characters around him. Using cartoon characters has the effect of disconnecting the
audience from the story’s human side.
The 1984 A Christmas Carol (20th Century Fox, *****)
is a classic because it creates a perfect atmosphere of anxiety and menace. Clive
Donner’s direction is sure, and George C. Scott’s performance is top-shelf,
while the supporting cast is made up of some fine British character actors. David Warner
is solid as Bob Cratchit, while Anthony Walters turns in a most heartbreaking performance
as Tiny Tim. Then there’s Edward Woodward’s commanding and suitably scornful
rendition of the Ghost of Christmas Present -- without a doubt the best I’ve seen.
This made-for-television movie feels more like a stage play in its execution; Donner keeps
the camerawork simple for the majority of shots, while dialogue is presented rather than
just spoken. But the real magic of this version is how disturbing it is. Nick Bicat’s
musical score is fittingly terse, and the final spectral visitation is horrifying. When
Scrooge witnesses his corpse beneath the white sheet, it was enough to make me want to
turn up the lights.
Thirty-three years earlier, Clive Donner had served as the
film editor of Brian Desmond Hurst’s Scrooge (1951, VCI Home Video, ***1/2),
with Alastair Sim. This version is considered by many to be the best of its kind. Sim
plays Scrooge with few embellishments -- he is Scrooge, but without the whimsy of Finney,
the stoicism of Scott, the slither of Winkler. Sim’s very human performance comes
closest to what Dickens probably envisioned. Tiny Tim is, however, too bright-eyed and
bushy-tailed to be taken for anything other than a pretty face. By comparison, the
terrifyingly gaunt Anthony Walters is much more convincing and sympathetic as the sickly
child at death’s door. That the film was shot in black-and-white adds to the
atmosphere, but does little to make me recoil in fright. My biggest criticism is that
Sim’s Scrooge seems a bit too willing to change. Where Scott, Finney, and Winkler
offer resistance to the spirits’ efforts, Sim’s conversion feels a bit rushed.
Coming in second for most creepy version is Albert
Finney’s Scrooge (1970, Paramount, **1/2). Where Edward Woodward excelled as
the Ghost of Christmas Present in Clive Donner’s 1984 film, Sir Alec Guinness here
offers a quite chilling take on Scrooge’s "dead-as-a-doornail partner,"
Jacob Marley, and provides a deliciously wry complement to Finney’s wretchedly
flamboyant Scrooge. I found Marley’s ability to levitate disturbing, but Leslie
Bricusse’s lackluster songs nauseating. The musical numbers have the effect of not
only killing the dramatic flow, but also of making a mockery of Scrooge’s plight. David
Copperfield may have benefited from song and dance; not A Christmas Carol.
Adding insult to injury is a concluding scene in Hell that is stilted and devoid of
tension.
Who would have thought that Henry Winkler, the erstwhile
Fonz, would portray Scrooge -- er, Benedict Slade -- with such venom? The first minutes of
Eric Till’s An American Christmas Carol (1979, Image Entertainment, ***1/2)
are as touching and heart-wrenching as the openings of any of the British versions. As
Slade moves from house to house, repossessing items from people too poor to pay, we see an
actor who has no problem filling the shoes of a self-serving miser. Winkler’s makeup
job may be poor, but his unruly silver hair is demonic. Still, this update has its
problems. With the exception of the Ghost of Christmas Future’s commanding voice,
these spirits couldn’t scare the pants off a corpse. Winkler’s epiphany also
feels forced and lacking in conviction, and the producers should have sprung for a
gravestone that doesn’t look like a second-hand prop from Dark Shadows.
Nevertheless, it’s nice to see the Fonz turning in this solid performance.
Scrooged (1988, Columbia TriStar, **) isn’t in
the same league as the rest. Directed by action auteur Richard Donner (no relation to
Clive Donner), this Bill Murray vehicle, about an American television executive struggling
to mount a shameless remake of A Christmas Carol, plays like a cross between
Donner’s Lethal Weapon and a twisted skit from Saturday Night Live --
it’s loud and foul-mouthed, with moments of humor but disproportionate amounts of
violence and crudity. Murray does his part well and delivers some very funny one-liners;
my favorite quip involves his reaction to a production assistant who can’t manage to
affix fake antlers to a cute field mouse. Comedian Carol Kane, as the Ghost of Christmas
Present, offers the only real energy; the Ghosts of Christmas Past and Future are not all
that imposing or frightening. Not surprisingly, Murray has a change of heart about his
television show and his relationship with Karen Allen, but ultimately, Scrooged is
an example of too little heart, too late.
Dickens clearly felt compassion for Ebenezer Scrooge; if
not, why would he have offered the despicable old magpie a chance for redemption? The
writer had demons of his own. Much of the inspiration for A Christmas Carol
certainly came from Dickens’s own childhood, which was full of poverty and hard work.
Who knows how close the young writer came to losing his soul and sporting his own
collection of chains forged in life, or how often "Humbug!" passed his lips?
Missed opportunities and bitterness riddle the fabric of human existence, offering each of
us the chance to fashion our own links of imprisoning chain. What is important is to trust
your instincts, address those missteps, and make peace with yourself. Otherwise, you might
wake up one Christmas Eve face to face with some otherworldly guests of your own.
...Anthony Di Marco
anthony@hometheatersound.com |
