“Another Idol Has Displaced Me” | Albert Finney (1970)

I cut off the Fezziwig scene a bit too early last year while talking about the musical Scrooge. Old Scrooge was sitting with the Ghost out of the way on a storage mezzanine, singing a melancholy ode to Isabelle as he watched his younger self dance with her. As the couple danced, the scene dissolved into a montage of other occasions during their courtship. They go boating on a little river, compete in an archery contest (she's better at it than he is), and go riding through the countryside in a little carriage (which is where Scrooge proposes to her). 

During all of this, Isabelle sings a song called "Happiness" in which she declares that the feeling isn't as intangible as people say, because it's incarnated itself in the young man she's with, Ebenezer Scrooge. Another constant during the montage is that Isabelle and Scrooge are always accompanied by her parents, Mr and Mrs Fezziwig. 

Young Scrooge keeps looking at the older couple and it took me a while to figure out why that was. I finally decided that he wasn't irritated at their constant presence. They always maintain a discreet distance from the younger couple, for one thing, but also, Scrooge doesn't look irritated. Instead, I think he's captivated by the older couple's relationship. I think he's seeing it as something he wants for himself. It's easy to understand why considering his lonely childhood.

When the montage ends, it doesn't lead directly into the break-up scene. It goes back to Fezziwig's party where Old Scrooge and the Ghost are still sitting and watching the dance. The montage, it turns out, wasn't a move forward in time, but most likely a flashback to events before the party. It's hard to tell, but I believe I spot an engagement ring on Isabelle's finger during the party.

Isabelle's "Happiness" fades back into Old Scrooge's sad song that he was singing earlier:

You, you were good for me.

You were my day.

You did all you could for me.

I let you go away.

"I did love her, you know," he tells the Ghost.

"Did you?" she wonders. "Then why did you let her go?"

He doesn't take his eyes off the dancers. "I've never been quite sure."

"Then let us go and see," she says.

Now we're in Scrooge's office as Belle comes in. She's wearing a fancy, sort of copper-colored dress with white fur trim. Definitely not in mourning, but she announces that she's come to say, "Goodbye." "I'm going away, Ebenezer. You will not see me again."

She's calm and collected about it, but Young Scrooge is utterly confused. I like how she uses visual aides to explain. When she talks about the "lady" who's replaced her in his heart, she picks up some coins from a little chest on his desk and shows them to him. Later in the conversation, she'll put her engagement ring on a scale with a couple of coins and show them to weigh heavier in terms of material gain.

Scrooge is upset and launches into his "there is nothing on which the world is so hard as poverty" defense. The conversation goes for a while as Dickens scripted it, emphasizing Scrooge's fear of hardship and suffering. In all of this though, Scrooge is emphatic that he still loves and wants to marry Isabelle and I believe him. As with the moments at Fezziwig's dance, this is an especially heartbreaking version of this scene. Isabelle can't follow Scrooge down the path he's chosen, but he desperately wants her to. 

Old Scrooge takes it particularly hard. Young Scrooge has gotten up from his desk and is moving around the office. I think he's partly just keeping busy and mellowing out the emotions of the conversation with at least the appearance of work. He throws Isabelle a glance every now and then, but mostly he just lets her talk. But at one point he says that he finds it impossible to talk about personal affairs during business hours, so maybe he just really is that distracted by the pressures of the workday and wants to take up this conversation with Isabelle later when he can focus on it.

Old Scrooge argues with her though, even if she can't hear him. He did love her, he insists. He still does. The Ghost shushes him though. "I'm trying to listen!" But Old Scrooge is very emotional. As his younger self sits back at the desk and listens to the rest of Isabelle's speech, Old Scrooge screams at him to say something. Young Scrooge is clearly hurt, he's even covering his mouth with a fist, holding back his emotions, but he remains silent. He wants to say something, but the only thing that will have an effect on her is for him to change something that has become fundamental to himself. And he's just too terrified to do that. He loves her, but his fear is stronger.

Old Scrooge pleads with Isabelle not to go. "It's a mistake!" But she leaves and only then does Young Scrooge call out her name. He even goes to the door to maybe try to catch her, but she's gone and he doesn't pursue any further. He sits back at the desk and looks thoughtfully at the door. He doesn't like what's happening, but he lets it happen. The alternative is too big a sacrifice.

"You fool!" Old Scrooge shouts at him. Then more quietly, "You fool." He walks over to the window and sees Isabelle walking alone through the snowy street. He picks up the sad song he was singing earlier.

I let you go away

And now I can see.

Now you're a dream gone by.

For how could there be

Such a fool as I?

I who must travel on,

What hope for me?

Dream where my past has gone;

Live with the memory.

You, my only hope.

You, my only love.

You, you, you...

He is utterly wrecked, just staring out the window like he's in shock as he humbly requests, "Spirit, remove me from this place. I can bear it no more."

And mercifully, she does. He's immediately back in his bed, holding his pillow and weeping. 

“Why, It’s Old Fezziwig!” | Albert Finney (1970)

In the musical Scrooge, the schoolhouse scene ended with the Ghost pointing offscreen and declaring, "There's a Christmas that you really enjoyed!" I love this elderly, grand-dame version of the Ghost of Christmas Past. She's stuffy, proper, and will take none of Scrooge's guff. He enjoyed this next Christmas and there's no arguing about it.

The scene smash cuts to Fezziwig sitting at his desk, scribbling for a couple of seconds until he realizes that it's time to stop. He's played by Laurence Naismith, whom I know best as the chairman of the British diamond syndicate who helps M gave James Bond his orders in Diamonds Are Forever. He's not an actor that I know very well, but he has a kind, familiar face. He's bald except for a ring of his own, white hair. The film doesn't suggest that there's anything old-fashioned about him. He just really likes Christmas.

Old Scrooge and the Ghost appear in the warehouse nearby and Scrooge is thrilled to see his old boss; probably the happiest and most unreserved he's been the entire movie. As he comments on Fezziwig throughout this scene, it's clear that he not only liked Fezziwig, he also respected him. This Fezziwig is certainly jolly, but he doesn't come across as an out-of-touch fool (however endearing) the way that some other versions have suggested. He does have a very tall desk though.

Fezziwig has Dick and Young Scrooge clear away for the party, but the room is already mostly decorated with lush garland hanging from the rafters and chandeliers. Dick and Scrooge just have to clear out some huge sacks of corn. Old Scrooge comments on how good-looking and strong he used to be. "I used to carry sacks around all day," he says. So Fezziwig was exposing his apprentices to all sides of the business; not just the books.

Old Scrooge is also giddy about seeing Dick Wilkins again and there's nothing sad or "poor Dick" about the memory. "Nice young fellow," Scrooges remembers. "Very attached to me, he was." These are all great memories for Scrooge.

His young self and Dick don't put up any shutters, which is important, because just as they're finishing getting ready, we hear a fiddle and see through the warehouse's large windows that the guests have arrived. The fiddler leads them and they're all dancing and shouting and twirling and carrying bowls and baskets filled with treats for the party.

When Fezziwig ordered the shop closed, he mentioned needing to have it done before Mrs Fezziwig and their daughters arrived with the punch bowl. We don't know who any of the other guests are, but it's not important for this version. The focus isn't on Fezziwig's compassion for all outcasts (as pleasant as that is to see in other version). It's on his effect on Scrooge personally.

The fiddler hops up on Fezziwig's desk and Fezziwig announces that "there will now be happiness and contentment in this room the like of which none of us has ever seen before." He then points to the fiddler and orders, "Begin!" He's proper and commanding, but people follow him out of love, not fear.

As the guests clap, Fezziwig and Wife take the floor and begin the next musical number, "December the 25th."

Of all the days in all the year that I'm familiar with,
There's only one that's really fun: 

The crowd answers in unison, "December the 25th!" to which Fezziwig shouts, "Correct!"

He and his wife punctuate the song all throughout with that affirmation.

Ask anyone called Robinson or Brown or Jones or Smith
Their favorite day and they will say:
December the 25
Correct!

I don't know why I love that as much as I do. Maybe it's just that it's so very English. It's a great song though and the dancing that accompanies it is complicated and boisterously exuberant.



During the dance, a particularly beautiful woman with blonde hair and an eye-catching blue dress tries to grab Young Scrooge's hand and pull him into the merrymaking. He politely shakes his head and puts up his hand.

Old Scrooge and the Ghost have moved up to a storage balcony to watch the party. "Why didn't you join the dancing?" she asks.

Scrooge is cranky and unapologetic. "Because I couldn't do it!"

She tut tut tuts him in response.

They continue watching and Fezziwig is having such a good time, flailing about and laughing uproariously at the dance's twists and complications. "What a marvelous man," Old Scrooge observes. And he believes it.

"What's so marvelous?" the Ghost challenges. "He's merely spent a few pounds of your mortal money." She's wonderfully stuffy and condescending the way she says it; I almost believe that she means it rather than being sarcastic.

Scrooge doesn't pick up on her sarcasm either, but defends Fezziwig honestly. "You don't understand!" he scolds. "He has the power to make us happy or unhappy. To make our work a pleasure or a burden. It's nothing to do with money!"

That last declaration slips out of his mouth so naturally that it puts a lump in my throat when I hear it. This is something that Scrooge has believed in the past and must still believe deep down, but he hasn't let himself believe it - much less express it - in a really long time. And even now he doesn't realize that he's said anything remarkable. The visions of the past are having their effect on him though.

This is the moment where Scrooge starts to change. He never quite bought that Marley's ghost was real and he continued being grouchy with the Ghost of Christmas Past. He didn't cry in the schoolhouse scene; he was just grumpy and bitter. But here, without his even realizing it, the lessons he learned from Fezziwig are beginning to peek out from the place where Scrooge has buried them.

The "December the 25th" number dies down as the scene fades to another, slower dance later in the evening. The woman in blue again seeks out Young Scrooge and this time, though he's clearly uncomfortable, he puts his arms around her and dances.

"Isabelle," observes Old Scrooge.

The Ghost tells us that this Belle is actually one of Fezziwig's daughters. I don't know why the film made that change. Maybe to consolidate characters. But the Ghost and Old Scrooge talk about how he was engaged to her and as Young Scrooge and Isabelle dance, I believe that they're in love. He's so clearly awkward and nervous about dancing, but even though his expression is rigid, it's also obvious that he wants to be exactly there where his is, dancing with her and making her happy. And she is happy. Completely pleased that he's making the effort. This can't be an easy relationship for either of them, but they both want it very much.

As Old Scrooge watches, he begins to sing softly to himself:

You, you were new to me.
You, you were Spring.
You, you were true to me.
You, you were everything.

It is 100% legitimately heart-breaking.

After this, the music livens again and the scene fades to another Christmas outside.

“I Was a Boy Here!” | Albert Finney (1970)

The musical Scrooge has no transition scene between Scrooge's room and the countryside. There's a simple fade from one to the other. Before we even see Scrooge and the Spirit there though, we're treated to a long caravan of wagons filled with sweetly singing children.

The song they're singing is the same as the one that played over the film's opening credits:

Sing a Christmas carol
Sing a Christmas carol
Sing a Christmas carol
Like the children do

But as they sing, they also work in other children's songs like "London Bridge is Falling Down" and "Here We Go 'Round the Mulberry Bush." It's a lovely medley and the kids are all dressed in costumes: harlequins, faeries, princesses, knights, and animals. There's even a carrot and a turbaned character that may be a reference to the Arabian Nights stories that Dickens mentions in the book.

Instead of asking if Scrooge remembers the place, the Spirit asks if he remembers the children. He says that he does. "All of them." And he recognizes a very young Fan in one of the wagons. It's when he calls to her that the Spirit informs him that these are but shadows.

Scrooge looks disappointed to see them ride around the next bend, but his wistfulness quickly turns to resentment. "I could never join those Christmas parties," he grouses.

This is going to be one of the toughest Scrooges to change. He never quite bought that Marley's ghost was real and he's continued being grouchy with Christmas Past. He doesn't cry in this scene or at the school; he's just grumpy and bitter. He doesn't grieve over the injustice of his childhood; he's angry about it.

After Scrooge's comment about not going to the parties, the Spirit brings up the school. It sounds like a non sequitur, but it's not. "The school is not quite empty, is it?" The reason Young Scrooge couldn't go to the parties is because he was stuck in school. And then the Spirit says something really interesting: "A solitary boy neglected by his family is left there still." Not neglected by his friends, but by his family.

When we cut to the school and Young Scrooge looking longingly out a window, we can still hear the kids singing in the background. So as Dickens implied, the school is in the same area as Scrooge's family, because Fan is out there with the other children celebrating within earshot of Young Scrooge. His father is just that mean that he's going to keep Scrooge at school over the holidays rather than let him come home, even though the family lives close by. Horrid.

We don't see Young Scrooge interacting with any other children, so we don't know what his relationship is with them, but this version doesn't care about that. It's all about Scrooge's family; particularly his father.

Old Scrooge and the Spirit go into the school and find Young Scrooge reading (though we're not told what and there's no mention of the characters coming to life). The school is sparsely furnished, but it looks kept up well enough. And Fan was dressed well, too, so I don't see evidence that Scrooge's family is poor.

As mean as this Scrooge still is, he does have a soft moment as he looks on his former self. He calls himself a "poor boy" and mentions that he should have given the carolers something the night before. His remembering himself as a victim has created some empathy, but he's still super grouchy about it and impatient when the Spirit asks questions.

She moves on, inviting him to look at another Christmas. An older Fan (maybe 15 now?) comes in and tells an older Scrooge (maybe 17?) that she's come to bring him home. She says that Father is kinder and that Scrooge is to spend the whole Christmas break at home, but there's no mention that Scrooge is going to work afterward and won't return to the school. That doesn't necessarily mean anything, but I've always been uneasy about the declaration that Scrooge's dad is yanking the boy out of school to put him to work. Even if the school is miserable, sending Scrooge into the world seems less like a kindness and more just an acknowledgment that it's time for Scrooge to grow up. Although maybe any kind of acknowledgment of Scrooge by his father is a relatively kind act. If the omission of that detail in this version is intentional and important, it reflects well on the father that he really is just letting Scrooge come home and celebrate the holidays with the family.

Since Fan is younger than Scrooge, their mother can't have died giving birth to the boy. In fact, Mom isn't mentioned at all - just like she's not in Dickens - so we can only imagine what Dad's problem has been with young Ebenezer.

There's no schoolmaster in this version. Fan and Young Scrooge rush out of the room, leaving Old Scrooge and the Spirit behind to discuss Fan and her future son. Scrooge gets especially cranky during that. He doesn't want to talk about Fred. To her reference to children he shouts "One child!" at her. And she sternly concedes, "Your nephew," before pointing out the window at the next Christmas she wants him to revisit.

“Your Reclamation, Then” | Albert Finney (1970)

Index of other entries in The Christmas Carol Project

The musical Scrooge made sure to show us Scrooge's setting his clock at the end of the last scene, so it was about 10:07 went he went to bed. This scene picks up straight from that one. He doesn't go to sleep, but immediately hears a clock chiming from somewhere outside. I can't tell any difference between the chimes, but Scrooge somehow realizes that time has sped up. He counts off, "Half past ten," and then, "Quarter to eleven?" That gets him sitting up and looking at his own clock, which now reads 1:00. As soon as he says the time out loud, there's a large BONG! from outside and Scrooge's curtains pull aside at the foot of his bed.

An elderly, finely dressed woman stands just inside his door; clearly the first spirit, but looking nothing like Dickens' description. This certainly isn't the first representation to take liberties, but the others at least put their versions in antiquated or fairy-like clothing to make them look otherworldly. This one just looks like she's visiting from a very nice neighborhood.

Scrooge - who went to bed not believing that he actually saw Marley's ghost - isn't afraid of this apparition. He demands to know who she is, but her reply is cagey. "I am the spirit whose coming was foretold to you."

He says what I'm thinking. "You don't look like a ghost!"

To which she replies, "Thank you." I'm not sure yet whether I like the contemporary look of her, but I do very much like her. She's haughty and aristocratic, which puts her in a similar category as the Alastair Sim version. She carries authority and isn't going to let Scrooge push her.

He's going to try though and insists on a more precise answer to his question about who she is. She declares herself the Ghost of Christmas Past and they go through the whole "Long past? No, your past" conversation.

When she says that she's there for Scrooge's welfare, he gets snotty about it. "To be awakened by a ghost at one o'clock in the morning is hardly conducive to my welfare!"

"You're redemption, then!"

I wonder if screenwriter Leslie Bricusse thought that "reclamation" was an outdated word and picked something more contemporary that sounded more or less the same. I like "reclamation" better, though, because it paints Scrooge as lost to his base, greedy impulses. He needs to be reclaimed for the side of good. The spirits are on a rescue mission. "Redemption" is similar, but it carries the additional idea of payment. Like when you redeem coupons. Nobody's paying for Scrooge in this story. They've come to reclaim him, but he's going to have to do the work of changing all by himself.

There's going to be a battle of wills between the Ghost and Scrooge. She's not taking any guff, but he's not backing down either. She holds out her hand to him and commands that he rise and walk with her. He grabs her hand, but snaps, "Where are we going?"

Her response is direct. "We are going to look at your childhood." And the scene immediately changes to a snowy forest.

“More of Gravy than of Grave” | Albert Finney (1970)

Index of other entries in The Christmas Carol Project

I like how the musical Scrooge does the knocker scene. Scrooge is unlocking his door and being rather slow about it when Marley's face slowly imposes itself over the lion-faced knocker. It's such a gradual transition (not faithful to Dickens, but who cares?) that Scrooge isn't startled by it; he's intrigued. And Marley's eyes are closed as if he's sleeping (or dead, sure), so there's no threat there. Scrooge is drawn to the face, not sure what it is, because obviously it can't be what it looks like.

Eventually, Marley's eyes slowly open and turn to Scrooge. He quietly exhales Scrooge's name and then goes back to resting. Scrooge says, "Marley?" and actually reaches out a hand to touch the face, but it's already disappearing. I like the implication that Marley isn't waiting at the door to "get" Scrooge. He's asked for the opportunity to help Scrooge (it's a chance and hope of Marley's "procuring," remember), but he isn't in charge of how it goes down. In this version, I get the feeling that Marley is placed at the door knocker by whatever forces have allowed him this visit. He's not as surprised as Scrooge, obviously, but he's also not 100% prepared.

Scrooge goes on inside and does the thing from Dickens that only a version or two have even hinted at. He checks the back of the door. In fact, he looks at the back, looks at the front again, and then again at the back. Albert Finney's Scrooge is pitifully mean, but he's also smart. He's trying to figure this out. Seeing nothing, he declares it "humbug."

His house is similar to Reginald Owen's, with cobwebs everywhere. But it doesn't just look like a haunted house. At the top of the stairs, Scrooge sees the ghostly hearse. It's not going up the stairs; it comes out of a dark room and into the hall before disappearing through another door. As it passes Scrooge, the driver lifts his hat and says, "Merry Christmas, Guv'ner! Merry Christmas!" Hard to write this one off as a figment of Scrooge's imagination. Maybe the Powers That Be were disappointed with Marley's mild introduction and decided to spook Scrooge up a bit more.

Scrooge is quick to get inside his rooms after that. He rushes in, locks the door, and listens at it for a second before moving on. There's no maid waiting for this Scrooge and he hasn't left his fire smoldering all day, either. He lights his own fire and puts a jar of broth (procured by one of the vendors he threatened on the way home) on the grate to warm. There's a bowl already on the hob, but Scrooge doesn't eat gruel from it. He pours the broth in and that's how he's planning to finish off his meager supper.

He's still pouring though when smoke cascades out of the chimney and he hears Marley's voice call his name again. "It's humbug still," Scrooge declares. Then shouts up the chimney, "I'll not believe it!" And in keeping with that, I notice that this Scrooge hasn't searched his apartment like the rest of them have done. He's a determined one, this Scrooge.

He begins to eat, but a strong wind from another room calls his attention over there and he goes to investigate. In the other room, a servant's bell begins to ring and is quickly joined by its two partners. Other bells start noising off, too, and Scrooge is forced to cover his ears. He may not believe what's going on, but he can't ignore it, either. They cut off abruptly, so Scrooge humphs and sits back down again to eat. That's when he hears the chains.

Most of the animated and live-action versions are skipping the suspense of having the chains begin in the cellar and work their way upstairs. Just a few clanks in the hallway and then Marley's there. Or almost there. It sounds like Marley's right outside the door, but he doesn't come in right away. First, Scrooge's candle goes out as a nod to Marley's influence over the fire in the book. Then Scrooge rushes over to the door to double- and triple-lock it. This gets another "Scroooooooge!" out of the still unseen Marley. Scrooge is good and freaked out now, so he rushes over to the fireplace, grabs a poker, and brandishes it like a very shakily held rapier.

One, two, three, the locks on Scrooge's door undo themselves and the door creaks open to reveal Marley standing there. He's not transparent, but is pale and dressed entirely in white. Instead of having a personal wind blow his hair, Alec Guinness (getting in some early practice as a Force Ghost) moves as if he's in a different atmosphere from the real world. He holds his arms loose and his whole body looks like its being pushed around as if he's walking under water.

Guinness' Marley continues to be otherworldly as the scene continues. Some of the other versions have Marley and Scrooge interacting as I imagine they did before Marley's death, but this Marley is very separated from what he used to be. When Scrooge asks who he is, Marley stresses that "in life... I was your partner." He isn't anymore. He isn't even human anymore. Scrooge invites/orders him to sit down and Marley supernaturally draws a chair over towards him and then sits on empty air next to it. It's funny, but yet another reminder that this ain't what Scrooge is used to.

This unnaturalness seems to work against Marley at first. Scrooge of course continues claiming not to believe. It's just too unreal. In this version, he says that he's already been experiencing a stomach disorder, so he declares that it's causing him hallucinations. He goes back to eating his broth, fussing at Marley about all the things Scrooge may have eaten that are causing him to see things. When he finally decides that "you are an old potato!" Marley loses his cool.

He floats into the air and screams horribly, clanging two cash boxes together. Scrooge tosses his broth away and cowers before Marley, finally admitting that he believes. From here, the dynamic has changed. Marley is still very floaty in the way he moves, but dealing with Scrooge seems to have grounded his thoughts at least. He speaks strongly and with authority and Scrooge seems willing to listen. At one point, Scrooge says, "Tell me more, Marley, but speak comfort to me."

Marley of course has none to give. He said so in Dickens, too, but most versions skip those lines and go straight to talking about the three spirits. This Marley wickedly points out that "comfort comes from other sources" and is given "to other kinds of men than you." As he says it, he holds up both hands to block Scrooge's face and basically dismiss him. Not that he's judging Scrooge though, because he goes back to including himself in Scrooge's group. Marley has no comfort either. Comfort is outside of his power or experience. Instead, he wraps his chain around Scrooge's arm as a preview of Scrooge's future. "Mankind should be our business," he says, "but we seldom attend to it." And then he adds ominously, "As you soon shall see..."

At that, a moaning wind picks up outside the house and the window flings itself open to make it even louder. His chain still wrapped around Scrooge, Marley flies out with Scrooge and up into the air. This is where the host of phantoms are, moaning eerily as Marley begins a quick song:

See the phantoms filling the sky around you.
They astound you,
I can tell,
These inhabitants of Hell.

Poor wretches whom the hand of Heaven ignores.
Beware! Beware! Beware
Lest their dreadful fate be yours!

"As you soon shall see" apparently refers to the throng of spirits. Scrooge and Marley aren't the only ones who have ignored humanity. And the price for doing that is the same for everyone. Marley and Scrooge fly against the flow of ghostly traffic and Scrooge gets a good look at the specters. The special effects aren't great - they're just people in white rags and rubber masks - but the masks are scary enough and Scrooge covers his eyes.

When he pulls his hands down, he's back at his fire. There's no sign of Marley and first-time viewers would think that the scene is over. No mention of what the other phantoms are after or even that three more spirits are coming to visit Scrooge. But Marley isn't done with Scrooge yet. He's just giving Scrooge a breather and the opportunity to declare the whole experience a dream.

Scrooge's candle is still out, so he takes a tallow wick to the fireplace and lights it. When he brings it back to the candle though, the candle is lit and Marley is standing there. "It's not a dream, Ebenezer." He declares that pity for Scrooge is why he's come and that there is a chance for Scrooge to escape the fate that Marley and the others suffer.

Marley says that all three spirits will come that night staring at 1:00 am and on the hour for the next two after that. By the end of his instructions though, Marley's mind is starting to wander. He's taken too long and is being called back to the spirit world to continue his punishment. He backs out of the room and the door closes itself behind him.

Instead of being scared, Scrooge seems eager to hear more. He goes to the door to follow Marley, but is surprised that the door is still triple-locked, just as Scrooge had it before Marley appeared. Suspicious now, he goes over to the window that he and Marley flew out of earlier. It's also closed and bolted. Now Scrooge is starting to feel like a sucker again. He goes to his bedroom, shouts, "Three ghosts? Three humbugs!" and closes the door. When he gets into bed and draws the curtains, he's ready to forget the whole thing.

His Usual Melancholy Tavern | Albert Finney (1970)

Index of other entries in The Christmas Carol Project

Because of how the musical Scrooge reorganizes the scenes, Scrooge's journey home includes the charitable solicitors for a short bit. This is an annoying interpretation of those characters and their clueless dogging of Scrooge through the streets launches him into a song about how much he hates people.

Scavengers and sycophants and flatterers and fools.
Pharisees and parasites and hypocrites and ghouls.
Calculating swindlers, prevaricating frauds,
Perpetrating evil as they roam the earth in hordes
Feeding on their fellow men; reaping rich rewards,
Contaminating everything they see.
Corrupting honest men... like me.

I hate people! I hate people!
People are despicable creatures.
Loathsome, inexplicable creatures.
Good-for-nothing, kickable creatures.

I hate people! I abhor them!
When I see the indolent classes
Sitting on their indolent asses;
Gulping ale from indolent glasses,
I hate people! 

I detest them! I deplore them!
Fools who have no money spend it;
Get in debt then try to end it;
Beg me on their knees befriend them
Knowing I have cash to lend them.

Soft-hearted me! Hard-working me!
Clean-living, thrifty, and kind as can be!
Situations like this are of interest to me.

I hate people! I loathe people! 
I despise and abominate people!
Life is full of cretinous wretches
Earning what their sweatiness fetches,
Empty minds whose pettiness stretches
Further than I can see.

Little wonder... I hate people
And I don't care if they hate me!



There are cuts in the video above where Scrooge interrupts the song to collect money from various vendors. If they can't pay - and none of them can - he offers to sell them a week's extension or else they forfeit their businesses and assets to him. Instead of hitting a tavern for his meal, he also extorts a meager supper from the vendors.

This activity draws the attention of the caroling kids whom Scrooge drove away from his office earlier in the movie, so his song segues into their sarcastically titled  "Father Christmas."

Father Christmas!
Father Christmas!
He's the meanest man 
In the whole wide world,
In the whole wide world
You can feel it.

He's a miser.
He's a skinflint.
He's a stingy lout. 
Leave your stocking out
For your Christmas gift
And he'll steal it

It's a shame.
He's a villain.
What a game
For a villain to play
On Christmas Day.

After Christmas,
Father Christmas
Will be just as mean as he's ever been
And I'm here to say,
We should all send Father Christmas
On his merry Christmas way.

Father Christmas!
Father Christmas!
He’s the rottenest man
In the universe
And there’s no one worse.
You can tell it.

He’s a rascal.
He’s a bandit.
He’s a crafty one.
Leave your door undone;
He’ll move in your house 
And sell it

It’s a crime.
It’s a scandal.
What a game
For a vandal to play 
On Christmas day.

If you distrust
Father Christmas,
It’s as well to know
That I told you so,
‘Cause I’m here to say,
We should all send Father Christmas
Father Christmas, Father Christmas
Father Christmas, Father Christmas
On his merry Christmas way.



Their song done, the boys let Scrooge go and he ends up on a lonely street that the set designers have done a lovely job of making look hidden away from the rest of the city.

“If Quite Convenient, Sir" | Albert Finney (1970)

Index of other entries in The Christmas Carol Project

Albert Finney's Scrooge falls somewhere between Walter Matthau's and Fredric March's. Like those two, he's more to be pitied than feared, but Cratchit neither openly defies him (as in Matthau) nor shy away from him (as in March). He was bold enough to show some camaraderie with Fred during the nephew's visit, but backed off when Scrooge got seriously pissed about it. He's walking a tightrope, this Cratchit.

Like some of the others, he's a clock-watcher and has to point out to Scrooge when it's time for him to go. And like Gene Lockhart's Cratchit, he also has to remind Scrooge that it's payday. Scrooge's response to that is to point out Cratchit's biggest flaw as Scrooge sees it: that Cratchit's only concerned about pleasure. I don't know if that's fair, but it plays into one of this version's biggest themes. Scrooge takes pleasure from nothing and he resents anyone who does enjoy life.

With that in mind, I may have judged Cratchit too harshly in the earlier scene with Fred. It looked like they were teaming up against Scrooge, but that was probably all Fred with Cratchit's simply looking guilty by association. Cratchit doesn't seem as brazen when he's alone with the boss. He's happy that it's quitting time and he even musters a couple of smiles for Scrooge, but he also knows how Scrooge will respond to them and is appropriately nervous. The thing is though that he can't help being who he is: an optimistic young man who finds pleasure in whatever circumstances he's in, including working with Ebenezer Scrooge. Seen that way, Cratchit's to be admired. When he wishes Scrooge a Merry Christmas before departing, I don't believe it's an intentional offense like Fred's was. I think he genuinely hopes that Scrooge will find some merriment over the holiday. Which of course he will.

Scrooge stays behind to get some more work done and to lock up, but the movie follows Cratchit outside for now. Instead of a sliding scene, we get a full-on Christmas celebration when Cratchit meets up with his two youngest kids, Kathy and Tiny Tim. Like Tim in the Alastair Sim version, we meet them as they're looking into a store window at toys they'll never be able to afford. But where Sim's Tiny Tim seemed to find all the enjoyment he wanted just by looking, these two have some longing looks, especially Kathy as she stares at a particular doll.

We aren't meant to feel sorry for them though. They're thrilled to see their father who asks them which toys in the window they like best. Kathy points out the doll, but Tim's more philosophical. "You said we can't have none of them," he says, "so I might as well like all of them." He's a boy after his father's own heart.

Not to be down on Kathy for having a favorite. She gets it too and the three of them launch into a song about how much they love Christmas, even on a budget. As they sing, they shop, and the scene keeps contrasting their shopping experience with those of richer people. Lavishly dressed children walk with parents carrying large bundles of festively wrapped gifts; then Cratchit and his kids buy brown-paper "mystery presents" at four for a shilling. At another shop, we get a preview of the prize turkey hanging in the window as Cratchit comes out with his tiny bird. All the while, there's not a hint of irony as they sing about the joys of the season. Kathy still wants that doll, but she's as content and excited as the rest of them.

The scene follows them all the way home to share their purchases and their song with the rest of the family, ending with Cratchit's lighting the candles of the Christmas tree. That segues into Scrooge's blowing out his candle at work just before he leaves. When he goes outside, he'll meet the charitable solicitors who will inspire a completely different kind of song from him.

It's not a subtly made point, but it's still a good one and faithful to what Dickens wrote in this year's scene. Celebrating Christmas has nothing to do with physical circumstances and everything to do with attitude and the ability to count one's blessings. And as this movie will go on to point out, the same is true of enjoying life in general.

'You Wish to Be Anonymous?' | Albert Finney (1970)

Index of other entries in The Christmas Carol Project

Albert Finney's musical Scrooge moves the charitable solicitors to later in the story, after Cratchit's already gone home and Scrooge is himself heading out for the night. The two men, one quite portly, accost Scrooge in the street outside his office and follow him for a way, trying to talk him into contributing.

The move of the scene doesn't seem to be about the story so much as it does about musical numbers. After Cratchit leaves, he has a song with his children while going about the pleasant task of Christmas shopping. In contrast, Scrooge's encounter with the solicitors propels him into a song as he makes his way through the Christmas crowds, singing about his hatred for humanity. More on those songs when we get to those sections, but it's important to note that this version feels free to adjust the story to fit the needs of the music.

Regarding the solicitors themselves, they're as annoying as Scrooge's nephew was in the earlier scene. They seem particularly clueless about getting the message that Scrooge isn't going to give them anything. Unlike other versions where Scrooge is kind of trapped in his office, this Scrooge has the option of walking away and he takes it. Stubbornly, the pushy solicitors block his way and - once he moves around them - follow him until he gets so angry that he swings his cane and screams about decreasing the surplus population. He's a mean person and it's hard to sympathize with him too much, but I can start to see why he launches into the misanthropic song right after this. So far, the Christmas celebrants Scrooge has encountered have been insufferable.

‘Merry Christmas, Uncle!’ | Albert Finney (1970)

When we last saw Finney's Scrooge, he was roaring at the front door, thinking that the knocking there was some carolers returning to inflict more misery upon him. Instead, it's his nephew, played by Michael Medwin, who's a comical-looking fellow with large teeth. "Uncle Ebenezer!" he smiles. "I can't tell you what a joy it is to see your happy, smiling face." Behind the scowling Scrooge, we see Cratchit crack another smile. That's good, because my first impression of Scrooge's nephew is that he might be a witless buffoon. Cratchit hints that there's some intelligence there though and that he and the nephew are in on a joke. Unfortunately, it'll prove to be rather a cruel one.

As the nephew enters, the familiar conversation begins. "A Merry Christmas, Uncle Ebenezer! God save you!"

Scrooge rightly suspects that Cratchit may be deriving some entertainment from this and glares at the clerk before returning to his desk. "God save me from Christmas. It's a lot of humbug!"

The dialogue proceeds mostly as Dickens wrote it while Scrooge returns to his desk and uncovers his money to begin working again. There's a clever, added line after the nephew says, "What right have you to be miserable? You're rich enough!" Scrooge retorts, "There's no such thing as rich enough!" He continues his rant as he takes the tray of money and locks it away in a safe, making him seem a bit distracted as he recites the line about "buried with a stake of holly." Is he not really thinking about what he's saying?

On the other hand, the nephew grins and shrugs at the comment as if he doesn't believe Scrooge is serious. This fits with the pitiful old curmudgeon that Finney seems to be playing. His Scrooge doesn't have a lot of teeth, figuratively speaking. The nephew smiles patronizingly throughout the conversation like he doesn't believe that Scrooge is all there. Like Scrooge is a child. It's kind of infuriating actually.

This nephew is also weakened by having his big speech cut out. After Scrooge asks to be allowed to "leave Christmas alone," he adds, "And be good enough to leave me alone during business hours."

At this, the nephew finally turns serious and with all the passion he can muster says, "Seven o'clock on Christmas Eve! That's not business hours! That's drudgery for the sake of it and an insult to all men of good will!"

At which Cratchit sort of sighs, "Hear hear."

Scrooge gets quiet for a moment and walks over to Cratchit's desk. When he speaks again, it's to threaten Cratchit's job and he seems very serious about it. Cratchit apparently takes it that way. Scrooge seems to have some power at last.

In spite of the nephew's weak "speech," Scrooge still pays him the "powerful speaker" compliment. That gets the nephew laughing again and he invites Scrooge to Christmas dinner with "my wife and me."

Scrooge has never stopped walking around the office and working throughout the entire discussion. He doesn't look up at his nephew here, so we can't see his face, but from the way he inquires about his nephew's marriage it sounds like this is the first he's hearing about it. His objections don't appear to be financial though, but prejudicial. "If there's one thing in the world more nauseating than a Merry Christmas, it's the hypocrisy of a happy marriage with some idiot, love-sick female. Good afternoon."

The nephew allows himself to be dismissed with the clarification that the offer still stands. On his way out, he and Cratchit exchange pleasantries and it's interesting that I sort of despise them both right then. I seem to have gained some genuine sympathy for Finney's Scrooge - unlikable though he is - who doesn't seem so hateful as much as just wanting to be left alone and constantly having this Christmas stuff shoved in his face. Cratchit and the nephew's pleasant greetings to each other - completely ignoring the tension of the scene that's just played out - feel like passive aggressive platitudes. I don't doubt that the two men like each other and are genuine in their well-wishes, but the subtext is that they're teaching Scrooge a lesson of some kind by showing him how regular people behave at Christmastime. That cheapens what they're doing and makes me like them less.

To make matters worse, the nephew turns at the door for one more dig. "Oh, and uncle... Happy New Year!" His smile as he cheerfully ducks Scrooge's final "Good afternoon!" is malicious.

Old Sinner: Albert Finney (1970)

Albert Finney's Scrooge introduces the Christmas theme right off. Before any images appear, we're treated to the peals of Christmas bells that then segue into an original song, "A Christmas Carol," as a series of title cards begins. Leslie Bricusse wrote the screenplay and the songs (and got Oscar nominations for Best Original Song and Best Original Song Score). The lyrics go:

Sing a song of gladness and cheer
For the time of Christmas is here
Look around about you and see
What a world of wonder
This world can be
Sing a Christmas carol
Sing a Christmas carol
Sing a Christmas carol
Like the children do
And the joy and beauty
Oh, the joy and beauty
That a merry Christmas can bring to you!

The title cards are wonderfully illustrated by Ronald Searle, best known to comics fans as the creator of St. Trinians School (which was re-adapted for film not too long ago). The drawings are all of standard, Victorian Christmas scenes, but Searle makes them whimsical and fun. The last one morphs into the first live-action shot of the film as a man pushes a cart down a snowy, gaslit street.

Scrooge is the first adaptation with sound not to use "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing" in it's title sequence, but it quickly makes up for that by having a quintet of Cockney kids sing it in the street. The carolers are more than background music too. After getting a sweet tip from the first house we see them at, they move on to Scrooge & Marley's, whose sign reveals them to be "Private Merchant Bankers and Moneylenders."

Inside, Scrooge is hunched over his desk, counting coins. Finney's Scrooge is more like Sir Seymour Hicks' than Mark McDermott or Alastair Sim's. He's a hunched over, crab-fingered, old coot. Distracted by the singing, he gets up, mumbling about "caterwauling" and "why can't they leave a man in peace?" In another time and place, he'd be the guy sitting on his front porch, shaking his cane, and yelling at the neighbor kids to get off his lawn. He's largely powerless and completely pathetic.

I love how when he gets up to shoo off the boys, he first grabs an empty drawer from the desk and uses it to cover up his money. Maybe he expects the wind to come through the door and mess up his piles, but I suspect that he's distrustful of the only other person in the room: his clerk. That's awesome and it hints that Finney's Scrooge is a character to be laughed at more than hated or pitied.

Not having a cane, Scrooge grabs a fireplace shovel before going to the door. I notice that - breaking away from the traditional argument about the coal - he has a small fire going. I also notice that his desk is right in front of the fireplace, blocking any heat from reaching the clerk. As Siskoid pointed out when I posted about this on the separate Christmas Carol blog, this Scrooge is more selfish than miserly. That's a fair, interesting interpretation of the character and doesn't change his core flaw. If anything, it highlights it more clearly. Scrooge's main problem in the story is that he doesn't use his resources to help others. That he also traditionally doesn't use them to help himself really just confuses that point.

Scrooge runs off the carolers with swings of the shovel and a good "Humbug" muttered at their backs as they laugh and run away. Coming back inside he's still mumbling about "young ruffians" and their "Christmas nonsense." He catches his clerk smiling at this and tells him, "Beware, Cratchit. You have a dangerous sense of humor."

Before Scrooge can get back to his desk, there's another knock on the door. Thinking it's the carolers returned, he storms back to the door, screaming as he opens it. But it's not the kids.

There's no mention of Marley yet.