“Another Idol Has Displaced Me” | George C Scott (1984)

Clive Donner's version is another that places this scene outside in a park. It follows the end of the Fezziwig scene where Dick Wilkins and Young Scrooge mused that the party was a night "never to be forgotten." But, as the Spirit said, "You did forget. Often." And she shows him another Christmas Eve where he was "delayed by the pressures of business."

Young Scrooge is walking quickly through the park to meet Belle who's waiting for him on a bench. He apologizes for being late, but she's too upset to forgive him. "I thought you might not come," she says. "I know how busy you are."

He sits and agrees with her that he is very busy. She can't even look at him when she says, "Another idol has displaced me," and she comes across as jealous. When she talks about how money engrosses him, she's disgusted. He tries to blow it off. "Perhaps I've become wiser, but I have not changed towards you." And he seems to mean it. He doesn't deny what she's saying about his shifting priorities, but he wants her to be a part of them.

After a quick look at Old Scrooge watching sadly, we cut back to the couple who are now up and walking. She asks if he would still be interested in her if he was able to do it all over again. She's not wearing mourning clothes, but she refers to herself as "a dowerless girl with nothing but myself to bring to a marriage." She's sure she knows the answer and is angry with him for it.

He doesn't answer right away, but just looks ashamed. "You have no answer," she presses.

He thinks about it some more, but can't bring himself to protest. "You think I would not then?" 

I love her disgusted response. "Oh, Ebenezer, what a safe and terrible answer!" And she breaks up with him and walks away.

He stands there and watches her go. He has a stunned look on his face and he plays with his cane as if he's about to follow her, but can't bring himself to do it. "I almost went after her," Old Scrooge confesses.

The Spirit acknowledges that Young Scrooge wasn't yet heartless at the time and she asks him why he didn't go after her. Old Scrooge explains that on his father's death, he was left a small inheritance that Scrooge and Belle apparently disagreed about how to spend. Belle wanted to get married right away and live on the inheritance, but Scrooge insisted on investing it. And, he points out, those investments paid off and he's become a wealthy man.

The Ghost sneers at this. "You have explained what you gained. Now I will show you what you have lost."

She doesn't have to forcibly restrain Scrooge to make him watch the vision of Belle's family. He doesn't seem to know what's coming, so he doesn't protest. In fact, he seems delighted at first by seeing all her kids.

It's another outdoor scene, this time with Belle and her children waiting in front of their house for Belle's husband to come home. Belle is holding a baby and there are a bunch of kids playing in the snowy yard. I count about ten with a couple of servants helping build a snowman or pull one of the children in a little sled. Even though there are a lot of kids though, they're well behaved and orderly; not nearly the chaotic herd that Dickens describes.

A carriage arrives and Father gets out. He's carrying presents, but leaves them in the carriage to greet his quietly gathering family. No one attacks him for gifts and the closest anyone comes is when one of the girls asks politely where her present is. Father kindly insists that she and all the rest will have to wait until that night "as usual."

Old Scrooge spells out the point of the scene. "Fancy, they might have been mine." It's an unnecessary observation, but at least it lets us know that he gets it. He doesn't seem upset about it though. It's the tradeoff the Ghost mentioned. This is what he lost to gain his financial success. He understands, but seems okay with the sacrifice.

His tune changes though when Belle's husband tells her about seeing Scrooge "quite alone in the world" with Marley's dying. Belle turns very sad. "Poor Ebenezer," she says. "Poor, wretched man."

"Spare me your pity!" Scrooge commands. "I have no need of it!"

The Ghost's tactics have backfired in this version, I think. This Spirit has been haughty and condescending with Scrooge and he hasn't reacted well. He enjoyed the party and he was reminded of his love for Belle, but he's also accepted that giving her up was a reasonable sacrifice. This Scrooge has always been presented as confident and comfortable with his stinginess, never miserable. He may have feared the world when he was younger, but he's taken control and conquered that fear. He doesn't yet see the need for love.

And he definitely doesn't want to be felt sorry for. He's too proud for that and has had enough of the Spirit. He demands that she leave him and haunt him no longer and when she just grins impudently at him, he grabs her cap and forces it down over her.

She doesn't resist, but simply says over and over again, "Truth lives!" There's a bright ring of light where the cap meets the floor, but even that goes out as Scrooge keeps pressing down. And then he's in his bedroom, on the floor, twisting and pressing a rug.

“Why, It’s Old Fezziwig!” | George C Scott (1984)

As usual in director Clive Donner's version, the Ghost's snuffing cap is used as a transition between visions. As we leave the school for Fezziwig's warehouse, images play across the cap: people shopping and preparing for Christmas Day and then on Fezziwig and his employees. He's at a raised - but not cartoonishly high - desk at one end of the warehouse floor, writing in a ledger as his employees fold cloth and go about other business. He appears to have his own hair, but it could be a good, brown wig. Not a Welsh wig though. He pleasantly instructs a young woman to have Mr Pooling (I think?) talk to Mr. Scrooge about whatever book she's holding.

As she goes off to obey, Fezziwig gets down from his desk and reveals that he's a delightfully tiny man. He lets everyone know that it's time to stop working, because it's Christmas Eve. He particularly instructs Dick and Ebenezer to set down their pens, presumably because they're extra industrious and need to be personally ordered. Everyone's going to help clear the room, not just Dick and Ebenezer.

As Young Scrooge grabs some cloth to carry it away, Fezziwig playfully orders him to enjoy himself at the party. Ebenezer smiles and says that he'll try. The conversation goes on, but the gist is that Fezziwig wants Ebenezer to get more out of life than just the conducting of business, though Ebenezer is clearly very good at business. Ebenezer seems willing to learn.

The scene cuts to final decorations and the big buffet spread as Mrs Fezziwig enters with her three daughters and their suitors. Old Scrooge laughs as he identifies them. He's clearly enjoying seeing these faces again. And his face softens even more when he sees Belle enter with some rolls that she places on the buffet. His eyes moisten and he looks stunned. "I'd forgotten how beautiful she was." And he's right.

Young Scrooge comes up behind her and asks her to dance. He's not especially animated, but he's not awkward like the Young Scrooge in the Albert Finney version. He's much more comfortable and confident around Belle. This is a Scrooge who has settled in and made a place for himself.

A fiddler climbs up on Fezziwig's desk and begins the first dance. Fezziwig doesn't even join in this one; the focus is all on Ebenezer and Belle having a great time with Ebenezer even stopping to steal a kiss at one point. Eventually they leave the dance and run off to a corner by themselves.

Old Scrooge is smiling at the party and the memories. The Ghost catches him and asks him how long it's been since he danced.

He drops his grin and turns grumpy. "A waste of time, dancing."

"You didn't think so then."

He's quite serious and thoughtful as he says, "There was a reason then."

The scene cuts to Young Scrooge and Belle as they talk in their corner. Belle notes that Scrooge has changed since he came to Fezziwig's. "You were so gloomy."

"I think I should warn you, Miss Belle. I am of a serious bent of mind." He looks overly serious as he says it. Playfully serious.

She says that she finds seriousness admirable, "but it can be overdone."

"I shall take heed of your advice, ma'am, and go through life with a grin on my face." But he's not quite grinning. He doesn't seem to think that he can actually do it. We've seen him capable of enjoying himself at this very party, and that's all due to Belle's presence. She has that effect on him. But to fundamentally change his personality and worldview? That's a tall order.

Old Scrooge also smiles at the scene, but it's a wistful, rueful smile. He knows that he meant it back then just as he knows that he never achieved it.

Back in the corner, Fezziwig accosts Belle and Ebenezer to get them back in the dance for "Sir Roger de Coverley." Then he realizes that he needs to get back himself and "partner my wife before that young scamp goes dancing off with her!" He puts his arm around Young Scrooge and gives him the second piece of advice of the evening. "What a difference it makes, Ebenezer, to travel the rough road of life with the right female to help bear the burden." He's grinning at Belle as he finishes and she's blushing. Ebenezer looks at her, quite seriously.

She wonders if they should join the others and he takes her hand. "My pleasure, Miss Belle." He is absolutely, deeply in love with her. It's a beautiful scene that really captures the essence of falling in love with someone you don't feel you deserve, but who - against all reason - apparently loves you back. They're such a sweet couple. It's heartbreaking to know how they turn out.

But Old Scrooge isn't thinking about that now. As his younger self rejoins the dance with the love of his life, Old Scrooge smiles like a fool, just enjoying the moment.

The scene then shifts to later that night. The warehouse is empty except for Scrooge and the Ghost. "Old Fezziwig," the Ghost says. "A silly man." And indeed he was.

Scrooge defends him anyway. And the Ghost challenges him further. What did he do to deserve the praises of his employees? "Spent a few pounds? Danced like a monkey? Beamed a great smile?"

Scrooge laughs and explains gently. "The happiness he gives..." He corrects himself, "Gave... was quite as great as though it had cost a thousand pounds." He turns thoughtful. "Just... small things."

He doesn't mention that he'd like to have a word with Bob Cratchit just then, but that would just be spelling out something that Scott's performance already does quite nicely. The schoolhouse failed to create empathy in Scrooge, but he's been touched emotionally by this scene. Not just by Belle, but by Fezziwig as well. This was a time when Scrooge was truly happy and hopeful about his future. But things have not turned out the way he hoped back then.

Cut to Ebenezer and Dick in their bunks somewhere in the warehouse. Ebenezer is staring off into space and Dick doesn't even have to ask what Ebenezer is thinking about. He just stares at Young Scrooge until Young Scrooge laughs and says, "Belle."

"Are you in love, Ebenezer?"

"Mmm. The thought had occurred to me."

"She's too good for you." Dick means it, but there's no malice. He clearly likes Belle, too, though he doesn't really consider himself competition for Ebenezer. She may be too good for Ebenezer, but she also loves him and Dick knows it. There's been no mention of Dick's attachment to Scrooge, but we don't need it. This scene shows us that they're good friends.

"One day!" Ebenezer objects. "When I've made my fortune. Then I'll deserve her."

Dick changes the subject. "It was a night never to be forgotten."

"Never..." muses Ebenezer.

"But you did forget," says the Ghost. "Often." And the scene changes once again.

“I Was a Boy Here!” | George C Scott (1984)

Director Clive Donner likes using close ups of the spirits' icons to represent transitions. For Christmas Past, its her snuffing cap, so when she transports Scrooge to the country, Donner shows us the hat with a snowy forest and building projected onto it. This fades into Scrooge and the Ghost standing in some trees on the side of a snowy road.

Scrooge recognizes the place as where he was bred and grew up. Some boys ride by on horseback and Scrooge recognizes them, too. There's no mention that they've come from the school, but the building is in the background and clearly they're childhood friends of Scrooge. He mentions them by name and calls out to them. Daniel, Robert, and David are their first names, but Scrooge also gives them last names that I can't fully make out. I've always wondered if those are real people, though. Maybe friends of the screenwriter?

Scrooge is excited to see his friends, but he's not going to be as deeply affected by any of this as what Dickens described. Scott's Scrooge is a powerful and ruthless businessman. It's going to take a lot more than memories to help him. These are a necessary first step for what the Ghost is trying to do, but we'll get no trembling or crying.

As the boys ride on, the Ghost tells Scrooge that it's time for them to move, too. We cut to the exterior of the school and then inside to a hallway leading into a classroom. The camera shows us Scrooge's point of view as he moves into the room where Boy Scrooge is sitting on a bench, reading. The Ghost tries to nudge Scrooge's emotions with observations like, "It's your school," and "It's Christmas Day." Scrooge acknowledges the truth of these facts, but isn't shook by them. Rather, he sounds like he's enjoying the memories.

He does note that the boy is "neglected," but he doesn't say by whom. The Spirit provides that, saying that he's been "deserted by his friends and his family." I like the word "deserted," because it's as ambiguous as "neglected" in describing intent. Scrooge's friends have physically deserted him and the school for their own families, but that doesn't imply that they're malicious about it. For Scrooge to be deserted by his family, though, especially at Christmastime, is another matter.

Scrooge explains the situation. "His mother is dead. His father holds him a grudge." He goes on to reveal the same situation as in Alastair Sim's version: That Scrooge's mother died giving birth to him.

The Spirit continues trying to push Scrooge into an emotional reaction. "Weep for the boy if the tears will come." But Scrooge isn't having it. He doesn't feel pity for his former self, but pride in how he adapted and overcame his suffering. "He has his friends," Scrooge explains, "even on this day," referring to the book his young self is reading. Old Scrooge calls out some specific examples that Dickens mentioned: Ali Baba and other characters from the Arabian Nights. And then I love what the script does next. Instead of having these characters make some kind of hallucinatory appearance, the film has the Spirit continue goading Scrooge.

"But not a real child to talk to. Not a living person," she says.

Scrooge disagrees. "Robinson Crusoe, not real? And Friday? And the parrot?" Scott delivers the line with such calm conviction and I want to high five him. As an introvert who spent a lot of time in books as a kid, I totally relate. They are real to Scrooge and this simple argument makes the point Dickens was after, but better.

Scrooge goes on being proud of himself. "He made do, this boy." Once again, this is a Scrooge that I deeply relate to.

The Spirit gives up on this one and suggests that they look at another Christmas Day. She looks towards the door and a young woman walks in. Fan.

She looks to be about the same age as Young Man Scrooge, but we know from Scrooge's earlier comments that she has to be older than him. She tells Scrooge that she's come to bring him home and has to repeat it a couple of times. That's how Dickens wrote it:

"I have come to bring you home, dear brother!" said the child, clapping her tiny hands, and bending down to laugh. "To bring you home, home, home!"

But it takes on a different tone in this version. When she says it the first time, Scrooge's face - initially excited to see her - falls as he tries to process what she's said. Her repeating "home" doesn't make it any better though and he looks disappointed as he sinks back down to his bench. As the conversation goes on, I start to realize that he's not just trying to wrap his head around the news. He's actually dreading the thought of going home. His father's grudge must be severe indeed.

Fan tries to set Scrooge at ease by saying that Father is much kinder than he used to be, but of course that's a relative statement. Scrooge clearly doesn't know what to expect, but he puts on a smile for his sister's sake. "You're quite a woman, Little Fan."

"And you are to be a man," she says, "and never come back here." That's straight from Dickens, too, but we'll get some detail to that statement shortly. Because Fan hasn't come alone. She takes Scrooge's hand and says, "We mustn't keep Father waiting." Dun dun DUUUN!

Cut to the exterior of the school and a stern-faced older man is standing by the carriage. He has a severe, black hat and he's holding a cane that he uses to stop Scrooge from running up to embrace him. It seems weird that Scrooge would run up to his dad, but he and Fan have both rushed out of the building holding hands and Fan's excitement has temporarily infected Scrooge.

Father looks over Scrooge judgmentally and declares, "They haven't been overfeeding you, that's certain." Rationally, that's a complaint about the school, but it comes across as critical of Scrooge himself and I suspect represents a lot of interactions between these two. Scrooge tries to make small talk with, "I've grown, I think," but his father's only response is, "Yes, most boys do."

Father explains that Scrooge is indeed not returning to school. He's arranged an apprenticeship with Mr Fezziwig, who expects Scrooge in three days. Fan complains that she wanted more time with Scrooge, but Father insists that "three days is quite long enough for both of us." He adds, "Don't you think, Ebenezer?" To which Scrooge replies that it will be "quite long enough."

During this conversation, Scott's Old Scrooge has moved behind Young Scrooge and is looking over his shoulder at Father. Old Scrooge is hard-faced and disapproving. It's a powerful, fascinating image. Scott's Scrooge is older now than this memory of his father, and likely more wealthy and powerful. (There's no evidence that this is a cheap, rundown school. If anything, Father's comment about the food implies that he expects a certain level of value from it that he may not be getting, but I might be reading too much into that.) Scrooge is likely hating the fact that these are but shadows right now, because he clearly has something to say to this man. He continues glaring as the family gets into the carriage and drives off.

Once the carriage is gone, the spell is broken and Scrooge talks to the Ghost about Fan. He appreciates her generous nature and says that she died too young. "Old enough to bear a child," says the Ghost, not confusing the quantity in this version. The conversation turns to Fred and Scrooge is matter-of-fact about it. He acknowledges Fred's existence, but doesn't seem to have any feelings about his nephew one way or another.

The Ghost tries to change that by pointing out that Fred bears a strong resemblance to Fan. Thinking about it, I don't know how true that is in terms of facial structure or whatever, but Fred's sincerity and earnestness does seem like the product of being raised by someone as kind and gentle as Scrooge's sister. I think that's what the Ghost is trying to point out, anyway. That Fan still lives through her son if only Scrooge will see it.

Scrooge briefly entertains the idea, but then brushes it off by saying that he never noticed. The Spirt expresses surprise and says that she's beginning to think that Scrooge has gone through life with his eyes closed. "Open them," she commands. "Open them wide." And with that I think she gets at the heart of this Scrooge's problem. These memories aren't trying to reboot old emotions, but an attempt to show Scrooge things that he's missed because he was so inwardly focused. As she said when they first met, her light isn't just the light of recollection; it's the light of Truth.

“Your Reclamation, Then” | George C Scott (1984)

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After Scrooge goes to bed, director Clive Donner's TV movie cuts to a church steeple where the bell is tolling one. And back in Scrooge's bedroom, his little pocket watch is also chiming with a distinctive, merry little tune that becomes important later in the story. It's the bong of the church bell that seems to wake Scrooge up though. He sits up in bed, notices the time, and tries to remember, "What was it Marley said?" It's elusive though and nothing is happening in the room, so Scrooge concludes that Marley's visit and warning was just a dream. Of course, that's the Spirit's cue.

A wind blows through the room and into the curtained bed and then Scrooge notices a twinkling light. Maybe. It's really just a directorial flourish, because the twinking is inside the bed curtains and it turns into a bright reflection on the Spirit's large snuffer cap. The Spirit's not appearing on the bed though; this is just Donner's preferred way of communicating that spirits are transporting themselves. With Past, Donner will focus tightly on the cap as a way of transitioning from one scene to another. With Present, he'll use the Spirit's torch. So in this first instance, the large cap simply represents the first spirit's arrival.

Scrooge's bed curtains part and he sees the Spirit standing in the middle of the room. Like in the Albert Finney version, she's an older woman (well, middle-aged, anyway), but this one is trying to be faithful to Dickens. Her hair is long and - if not white, then at least very light, almost platinum blonde. The actor Angela Pleasence has an impish, mischievous look that gives a youthful quality to the character and she's dressed in archaic-looking robes and carrying the holly branch. She doesn't quite hold her cap; it just hovers near her.

Scrooge's attitude toward her is polite, but he's not at all afraid. It could be that he still thinks this is humbug, but he's at least willing to play along and see what happens. For her part, the Ghost is businesslike. That's probably the right approach to take with this Scrooge. She keeps it professional - at least at first - and he respects that.

Their conversation goes pretty much how Dickens wrote it, but with some nice changes. When he asks her to put on the cap, for instance, he expresses it in terms of "perhaps you'd do me the favor..." Her response is that she brings the light of truth. "Would you use this cap to put it out?" Scrooge is immediately and sincerely apologetic, but he's not nervous or frightened about it. He asks forgiveness from her like he would from a business partner or a peer.

The "light of truth" angle is interesting. I've written a lot this year about how this Ghost represents Scrooge's memories, but it's really more than that. She's going to show him things not as he remembers them, but as they really happened. The story doesn't make a big deal out of the difference between memory and reality, but she makes it clear up front that this is about objective reality. Her mission isn't to remind Scrooge of particular feelings; it's to show him factual events that cast light on the man he's become.

He continues to try to negotiate with her when they discuss his welfare. "I can think of no greater welfare than a night of uninterrupted sleep." But she shuts down the conversation by subtly reminding him that she has the power in this relationship. "Be careful, Ebenezer Scrooge. I speak of your reclamation."

He gives up. Even if he doesn't believe that she's real, he understands that this is something that he's going to have to go through with. "Well, if it's reclamation, then... let's get on with it."

She finally smiles and holds out her hand to him. "Come." As he gets out of bed and takes her hand, fog begins to engulf them. There's no window or fear of falling. Scrooge gets to hold onto his dignity in this one. And that means that there's no talk about touching his heart. As I've said before, this version is remarkable for making Scrooge relatable and grounded. Any change he undergoes is going to be relatable and grounded as well.

As they fade from view, she gives him some insight to what he's about to experience. "We shall be invisible. And silent as the grave."

“More of Gravy than of Grave” | George C Scott (1984)

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Director Clive Donner's TV movie really plays up the scares. By the time Scrooge gets to his front door, he's already seen the hearse, which seems much more supernatural than imaginary in this version. He's also heard Marley's voice calling his name already. And he hears it again as he approaches the door.

Donner cuts to Scrooge's shocked face and then zooms in on the knocker where the lion's head is superimposed behind a transparent, blue Marley. The ghost calls Scrooge's name a third time before it disappears.

Inside, Scrooge locks the door and lights a candle as the soundtrack gets creepy. The music is discordant and there are also clicks and creaks that could be just old-house sounds... or something else. This is one of my favorite versions precisely because it's so good at putting me in Scrooge's shoes and that applies to making me feel creeped out in this scene.

This is also a movie in which Scrooge is very used to being in control. I think I'm more scared in this scene than he is. Marley's face took him aback, but he's quite brave by the time he gets to his rooms. He doesn't even bolt the sitting room door; he just moves through it about his business, looking alert, but not freaked out. When he goes into his bedroom though, he does triple-lock that door, so clearly he's not entirely at ease. Something's going on and he's taking precautions, but he seems to think he can handle whatever it is.

The scene then cuts to Scrooge - now in his dressing gown and robe - picking up his gruel from the fireplace hob. There's not any fire that I can see, but the embers must be putting off some heat by the way Scrooge gingerly handles his bowl and blows into it. As he's eating, Marley calls his name a fourth time. Scrooge's fireplace does have Dutch tiles, but they all show a single scene of Jesus' Last Supper. As Scrooge watches, Marley's face appears and disappears from tile to tile. Scrooge goes over for a close look, but Marley's gone now. "Humbug," Scrooge whispers.

That's when the servant bell - covered in cobwebs to show its disuse - starts to ring and now Scrooge is more worried. He looks shaken as he puts a hand to his ear and sits down. Cue the not-distant-enough chains and other knocking sounds and Scrooge is all but frozen. He's not shaking; he's very very still. But there's horror in his eyes as one by one the door latches undo themselves. Now there's nothing between Scrooge and whatever's making the clanking, dragging sound from the hallway. He turns away and insists gruffly that it's humbug, but he's turning away for a reason. He can't stand to look at the door.

The door flies open and Scrooge has to get up and turn to look. There's nothing at first, but then the transparent, blue shape of Marley clanks and drags into the room. And as Marley solidifies, the music does something very interesting. It changes from the shrill, terrifying shriek that has accompanied the scene so far and becomes a melancholy violin. It feels like something out of memory and Marley - still pale and cold, but having some substance now - becomes not so scary, but sad and oddly comforting.

When Scrooge addresses Marley, the ghost has to undo his bandage before he can answer. His bottom jaw opens grotesquely and with a strange click, but Marley gets it under control enough to carry on the conversation.

Scrooge also seems comforted by the sight of his friend. He's not so scared now and even laughs when Marley insists that Scrooge "ask me who I was." He clearly distrusts the situation, but is willing to play along with whatever's going on. Even when Marley screams in frustration and sends Scrooge shaking to his knees, it's not immediately clear even then that Scrooge believes there's an actual ghost. It could just be that Scrooge is frightened because the situation - real or imagined - has turned violent. But Marley pushes the issue and Scrooge finally has to admit that he does, he must believe.

Frank Finlay is a great Marley. He stares blankly and tries to deliver his message efficiently, but when he speaks about his own missed opportunities to help the helpless he's overcome by the heartbreak of it. It's also overwhelming to me as a viewer, and to Scrooge who seems genuinely concerned and sorry for his friend. He asks if he can do anything to help and is touched when Marley says, "no," but that there's something that Marley can offer him.

In this version, Scrooge's hope and chance is not of Marley's procuring, but something that Marley says he's doing as penance. It's the one thing I don't like about this version of this scene, because it raises unanswerable questions like "why now?" and "why Scrooge?" I like to ignore that change and remember that Dickens explained it well enough in the book.

Of course, Scrooge isn't excited about the proposition of three more spirits. He tries to pass with a smile, but Marley won't negotiate. He announces that they'll all arrive that night; at least, two of them will. The first is coming at one and the second at two, but the third, "more mercurial, shall appear in his own good time." It's another change from Dickens, but one I really like since it sets up the third ghost as something more dangerous than the others.

His message done, Marley beckons Scrooge to the window and then reties his bandage with another weird click. The window opens on its own, letting in screams and shrieks from outside. Marley becomes transparent again and flies out, but the screams have faded and the street is empty when Scrooge goes over to close the window. "Humbug," he says, getting both syllables out.

Scrooge was clearly touched by his conversation with Marley, but I don't see in him any real desire to change. Seeds have been planted, but this Scrooge is going to be a tough nut to crack. He's not as extremely miserable as most of the other versions, so it's going to take more to break him before he can be built back up again. He goes to check his door again and sees that the locks are still in place. Nodding knowingly, he declares, "Something I ate," and heads to bed.

His Usual Melancholy Tavern | George C Scott (1984)

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Director Clive Donner's version cuts abruptly from the merriment in front of the Exchange where the band is playing and kids are sliding on ice. As Cratchit and Tiny Tim head home from that happy scene, Scrooge has a downright spooky walk towards his house.

The sun has gone down and the fog is rolling in, but that's not the worst of it. Donner goes full out chilling - foreshadowing what's going to happen at Scrooge's door - by having a hearse roll by and a disembodied voice call Scrooge's name before the hearse disappears into the fog. The disappearance is a nice effect, by the way. It looks like the hearse vanishes supernaturally and if you watch the scene closely, that's clearly what it's doing. But it's replaced by so much fog that if you were in Scrooge's shoes, you wouldn't be sure that it hadn't just been obscured by the natural mist.

None of this is in Dickens [UPDATE: It is, but in the next scene, once Scrooge goes inside.], so we have to speculate about what's going on there. The voice calling Scrooge's name sounds like Marley, so Marley must be starting to cross through the veil between his world and ours. He's working up to it. First we get a voice, then we'll get his face on the knocker, and then we'll get the whole ghost. But why the hearse? It could be a vision of Scrooge's future or simply a generic reminder of mortality. I'd love to hear other theories in the comments.

Because of the long, scary walk to Scrooge's house, it does feel withdrawn. In fact, Scrooge's gate is off a grungy-looking alley that's lined with ladders and barrels and a cart. There's no indication that he shares his building with office space, but he's certainly living next door to some. And skipping ahead to Christmas morning, there won't be any traffic to speak of in that alley either. This version does a great job communicating a house that's hiding from the rest of London.

“If Quite Convenient, Sir" | George C Scott (1984)

Index of other entries in The Christmas Carol Project

Since George C Scott's Scrooge has his encounter with the charitable solicitors at the Exchange, he parts ways with Cratchit earlier in the story, right after Fred leaves. In fact, Fred's visit makes Scrooge late in leaving and he's a bit flustered. He's going to finish his day there, so Cratchit will stay behind and close up shop. "Don't lock up a moment early!" warns Scrooge. That's a fair statement based on what we've seen of Cratchit so far.

In the first couple of scenes of this version, Cratchit has come off as lazy and maybe a bit dim, but he does redeem himself slightly here. Scrooge is almost out the door before he realizes he's forgotten his hat, but when he turns back for it, Cratchit is right there, efficiently holding it out. Scrooge's only acknowledgment of the kindness is to look a little embarrassed, but he follows that up right away by recognizing that Cratchit will want the whole day off tomorrow.

Had Scrooge not forgotten his hat, the topic of the day off never would have come up, but Scrooge is forced to stop and think and he realizes that this is a bit of business they need to see to. The dialogue follows Dickens closely and as I'd expect from Scott's very relatable Scrooge, he inspires sympathy when he complains about the inconvenience and injustice of paying a day's wage for no work.

For Cratchit's part, he's as sincere and sentimental about the holiday as Fred was. He comes across like he feels entitled to Christmas off, something that Scrooge seems to acknowledge when he sighs, "I suppose you must have it." Cratchit has the strength of cultural convention on his side and they both know it. I love David Warner as an actor, but so far his Cratchit is insufferable. I kind of cheer a little when Scrooge gets his last dig in with a stern, "Be here all the earlier the next morning!" and follows it up by pointing at Cratchit and commanding, "Make sure!"

Cratchit assures Scrooge that he will, but of course he totally won't.

Outside, we meet Tiny Tim as he hobbles his way up to the curb opposite Scrooge's office. He's a total cutie and unlike many of the film Tims, is actually very small. When he sees Scrooge come out of the office, he calls out, "Merry Christmas, Mr. Scrooge!" perhaps not knowing the old man's feelings about the day.

Scrooge's response to Tim is hilarious. He points his cane at the kid and says, "Don't beg on this corner, boy!"

Tim explains who he is and that he's waiting for his father. Like in the earlier scenes, Scott's Scrooge is thoughtless and uncaring, but he has a sense of humor. He humphs to himself, "Well then you'll have a long wait, won't you?"

Tim's unperturbed "Thank you, sir!" gets an exasperated "Humbug" out of Scrooge as he moves on towards the Exchange.

On the way, Scrooge passes through a couple of Christmas street scenes and encounters a couple of groups of carollers. The first is a half dozen kids who are blocking Scrooge's way, so he yells at them to clear the road and let him through. In this part of town, Christmas is being celebrated, but it's not all happiness and joy as evidenced by the sound of a baby's crying in the background.

When Scrooge reaches the Exchange, he meets the second group of singers: a professional bunch with brass instruments. There's plenty of room here though, so Scrooge simply ignores their Christmas greetings and offered donation cup. He heads into the building where he'll conduct some business and meet the charitable solicitors.

After that scene, the movie returns to Cratchit as closing time arrives and he meets his son outside. It's impossible to dislike Cratchit outside the office. He dotes on his son and lovingly picks him up to carry him as the two of them talk about how excited they are that Dad's got the whole day off tomorrow. Cratchit may be a lousy employee, but he's a great father.

At Tim's suggestion, they walk by the Exchange on the way home to watch the kids playing in the snow. Thankfully, they don't meet Scrooge, but the same band is still playing. They don't slide, but just watch the other children who are doing that and throwing snowballs at each other. Instead of using the sliding as a metaphor for Cratchit's cutting loose and celebrating, this film makes it a symbol of Cratchit's hopes for Tim. He wants to see his son playing that way one day.

'You Wish to Be Anonymous?' | George C. Scott (1984)

Index of other entries in The Christmas Carol Project

Yesterday I went on about how Scrooge McDuck is the most relatable Ebenezer Scrooge, completely forgetting that I'd already awarded George C. Scott that distinction last year. I should quit making it a contest, because each character is believable in different ways. The joy with which McDuck celebrates his wealth feels familiar and human, but it's an exaggerated, comical glee. The way Scott relates to his money is more subdued. He's a smart businessman and I get the feeling that he finds more pleasure in a shrewdly negotiated deal than in wealth for its own sake. That becomes really apparent in a scene that the '84 Christmas Carol adds to Dickens' text.

This version moves the charitable solicitors to a little later in the story and by the time we get there, Scrooge has become less sympathetic than he was in the first two scenes where he seemed put upon by Bob Cratchit and Fred. We'll cover Scrooge and Cratchit's time-off negotiation in detail next year, but Scrooge makes some good (if entirely selfish) points about paying for work that's not done. As I'm still sort of reluctantly nodding my head at that though, Scrooge has a couple of moments of pure meanness. The first of which involves Tiny Tim, who's waiting outside the office for his father. I think I'll cover that more next year.

The second moment is what I was alluding to above about Scrooge's attitude towards business. He leaves the office to finish his day at the Exchange and we see him playing hardball with some other gentlemen. Scrooge has corn that the others desperately want, but they haven't yet agreed on a price. Scrooge demands five percent more than what he asked the day before and threatens to raise the cost another five percent the following day if they don't agree to his terms. They point out that if he doesn't sell to them he'll be stuck with a warehouse full of useless corn, but he doesn't seem to care. I suspect he's bluffing, but he's very good at it and they cave. He's thoroughly convincing that he'd rather eat the cost of the corn than not be able to exploit these men and in turn their customers who - though poverty stricken - will have to pay more as well.

With that act of ruthlessness still fresh, the charitable solicitors (one of whom is played by Alfred from the '90s Batman movies) approach Scrooge. Still pleased from his victory over his peers, Scrooge is immediately rude to the solicitors before they even explain what they want. Unlike Reginald Owen's version though, the incivility of Scott's Scrooge makes sense. That's partly because the encounter is at the Exchange and he doesn't know of any business he needs to conduct with these guys, but even if he did have business with them, we've already seen the incivility with which he conducts his affairs. People do business with Scrooge because he's powerful and they have to, not because they want to. Dickens says that Scrooge is a powerful man on the Exchange, but unlike adaptations where Scrooge comes across as petty and pathetic, Scott makes me believe it.

Though Scrooge is mean to them, he does it with a perfect, gentlemanly smile until they mention giving to the poor. At that point his grin drops and it's clear that he thinks they're complete lunatics. The conversation follows Dickens closely, which means that it's a little weird and the two, kind-hearted gentlemen come off as clueless at best and doddering at worst. They don't pick up on the clear message that Scrooge not only isn't interested, but is morally opposed to helping anyone but himself. With that, I'm back to understanding him again. I may not like him, but I get why he feels superior when surrounded by such fools.

'Merry Christmas, Uncle!' | George C. Scott (1984)

I loved him as Robin Colcord on Cheers, but Roger Rees is my least favorite Fred ever. Rather than joyous and exuberant, he's sappy and sentimental. One could point out that Dickens too is sappy and sentimental, but Dickens also has an awesome sense of humor that Rees' Fred never delivers.

Even his entrance is subdued. There's no bursting in, and no surprise. As Cratchit humbly makes his way back to his desk after getting chewed out in the last scene, the shop door opens and Fred comes in. He has to walk through a windowed vestibule to get to the inner door, so we see him do that too. It's a very long entrance already, but it's dragged out even more by Fred's stopping to greet Cratchit at his desk before talking to Scrooge. Both men are very warm in their Christmas greetings, but there's no joy in it.

Though he's in the same room, Scrooge ignores them until Fred comes over to repeat his "Merry Christmas" for his uncle. Surprisingly, Scott's Scrooge doesn't get upset. He just stares at Fred like he's crazy until Fred repeats the wish. Then - even more surprisingly - Scrooge laughs.

Scott's Scrooge is arguably the most relatable version there is. In the previous scene, he wasn't a horror of a boss, but simply a man who'd just about reached the limits of his patience with his lazy, wasteful clerk. In this scene, he's the one with the sense of humor, not mushy old Fred. He chuckles when he says "Humbug" and downright guffaws when he comes up with "buried with a stake of holly through his heart." He's obviously the only one in the room who thinks he's funny, but he's also the only one in the room making any attempt at humor. Fred, meanwhile, takes Scrooge's remarks about Christmas personally and looks genuinely hurt by them. I keep finding myself able to see the story through Scrooge's eyes, which is remarkable.

Rees is good with Fred's speech - after all, that's the part where Fred is supposed to be passionately sincere - and Scrooge's line about his being "a powerful speaker" is well-earned. Cratchit's clapping at the speech is funny in a way that's different from the book. He doesn't try to cover it up by poking in the fire, but he does stop quickly at a glare from Scrooge and then completely disappears behind his desk as he tries to return to work. The sense I get is that Scrooge is feeling ganged up on by Fred and Cratchit, but knows that he can control at least one of those men. He does, then turns back to Fred.

It's interesting that Fred's the one who brings up his marriage in this version. After Scrooge says (with another laugh) that he'll see himself in Hell (I think that's the first time we've gotten the whole line without euphemisms) before having Christmas dinner with Fred, his nephew says that entertaining Scrooge would be a great joy to him. "And to my wife," he adds.

Scrooge doesn't seem affected by it. He acts like he's just remembered that Fred's married and says that he's "told" that Fred's wife brought very little to the marriage. He disapproves, but only when he's reminded. He doesn't have any strong feelings about it. Obviously, the marriage isn't the reason Scrooge has a bad relationship with Fred.

What seems to be the problem is that Scrooge just doesn't care. Not about Christmas, and not about Fred. He's engrossed in his own stuff and nothing else really matters to him. Unfortunately, I can relate to that all too well, too, in some moments. Hopefully never to the extent that Scrooge has separated himself from the people around him, but I still know what it's like to get selfishly wrapped up in my own business and forget the needs of people around me.

There's a hint of something that's contributed to Scrooge's detachment. In response to Scrooge's crack about Mrs. Fred's lack of fortune, Fred simply smiles wistfully and says, "I love her. And she loves me." That makes Scrooge pause. "Love," he says, nodding knowingly and looking away.

It's not that he disbelieves Fred. In fact, it appears to be the one time that they're completely on the same page and that Fred has actually reached his uncle. But Scrooge wants nothing to do with it. He looks Fred in the eye, but can't hold it. His "good afternoon" is dismissive, but calm. He's defeated, but he's also done. There are no further, shouted "good afternoons" in this version. Scrooge substitutes, "You're wasting my time," and "Good bye," and he's in complete control of his emotions. Or rather, he's trying very hard to look like he's in complete control.

As Fred gives up and leaves, he extends wishes to Cratchit and his family. Scrooge simply shakes his head at his departing nephew and proclaims him, "Idiot."

It's a great scene and beautifully acted by both Scott and Rees. (I may not like Rees' interpretation of Fred, but there's no denying that he's perfectly effective in conveying what he's trying to convey.) By refusing to let Scrooge become a caricature, Scott's performance makes sure that I'm never able to simply judge and then dismiss him. Instead, he takes me on Scrooge's journey with him and serves as a powerful warning against becoming too much like him.

Old Sinner: George C Scott (1984)

George C. Scott's version of A Christmas Carol opens not with a Christmas theme at all. There's a snowy, bustling, London street, but it's very foggy and there aren't enough decorations to immediately know it's Christmastime. The music is also ominous and we quickly focus on a horse-drawn hearse transporting a coffin. The people in the street move aside to let it pass and the men take off their hats in respect.

As the camera cuts to a closer shot to let us see the coffin up close, a narrator tells us, "Old Marley was as dead as a doornail. This must be distinctly understood or nothing wonderful can come of this story I am going to relate." It's a unique choice among adaptations, going for the spooky tone before introducing the Christmas elements.

Immediately though, we cut to a close shot of a squeeze box and the Christmas music begins, sung by street carolers. It's not the traditional "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing," but either an original song or a very old carol that I've never heard. [EDITED TO ADD: In the comments, reader Rosie identifies this as "The Sussex Carol." Thanks, Rosie!]

On Christmas night all Christians sing
To hear the news the angels bring.
On Christmas night all Christians sing
To hear the news the angels bring.

Either way, it further prepares us for an unusual take on the story as the scene changes back to the earlier street shot - now without the hearse - and the music morphs into a triumphantly festive orchestral overture for the credits. As we read (George C. Scott's name, incidentally, comes before the title) the film cuts to traditional Christmas scenes: vendors selling hot potatoes, stores decorated with snow-trimmed greenery, children staring through windows at toy displays, and shoppers greeting each other with "Merry Christmas!"

Even after the credits stop, the Christmas music and street scenes continue. Now it's a band playing another traditional-sounding tune as children listen. But pains are taken to make the scene feel realistic. As hinted at earlier by details like the obscuring fog and the potato vendor (not chestnuts?), this version veers just enough from typical to give it an authentic flavor. It feels like real, Victorian London instead of a Hollywood version of it. Children don't just listen to the Christmas band, they blow in their hands and stamp their feet, freezing as they presumably wait for their mothers to finish shopping.

There are other, great details like a young girl counting wrapped packages as they're handed to her in a carriage. There's a cart loaded with holly for sale. A poulterer pulls down a still-feathered goose for a customer, forcing us to imagine the grisly work ahead in order to get it ready to eat. A man lights his cigar on an open gas-flame.

Watching all this from the window of a storefront labeled "Scrooge & Marley" is a man. We cut inside just as he turns from the scene and announces, "Seven years ago today..."

"What's that you say?" growls the voice of his unseen companion.

"Mr. Marley died. Seven years ago this very day."

The unseen man isn't impressed and orders his clerk back to work. Instead, the clerk heads to the fireplace and reaches for the tongs to add another piece of coal. That's when he says it.

"MISSSTER CRATCHIT!"

Alastair Sim will probably always be my favorite Scrooge, but George C. Scott is close behind him thanks largely to his ability to deliver those two words with such power and frustrated rage. Before we even see him, Scrooge is revealed as a man who feels put upon by the sheer incompetence of his employee. And we can't exactly fault him for it. David Warner's Cratchit is something of a goof-off: daydreaming out the window; not going immediately back to work when he's called on it.

As Cratchit explains that the fire's gone cold, we finally see Scrooge. He sits at his desk and sighs, putting his hands to his temples. Cratchit's given him a headache. "Come over here, Mr. Cratchit."

Cratchit dutifully walks over, seemingly clueless to what he's done.

"What is this?" Scrooge asks, pulling at his cuff.

"A shirt."

"And this?"

"A waistcoat."

"And this?"

"A coat."

"These are garments, Mr. Cratchit. Garments were invented by the human race as protection against the cold. Once purchased, they may be used indefinitely for the purpose for which they are intended.

"Coal," he continues, looking at the fire, "burns. Coal is momentary. And coal is costly." Scrooge, it appears, runs a green business. "There will be no more coal burnt in this office today."

There's one of two things going on here. One possibility is that we're supposed to be so familiar with these two characters that we're filling in the blanks on the interaction. Cratchit is the good guy; Scrooge is the bad guy. Poor Mr. Cratchit - as usual - gets no coal for his fire.

But based on the efforts already displayed at re-interpreting the story, I think the second possibility is more likely and that the roles are - at least temporarily - reversed. Cratchit is sort of lazy; Scrooge is simply a good businessman understandably exercising his right to try to get his money's worth from his hired man. Whether or not those roles will stick for the rest of the movie is something we'll have to see, but it seems to be the starting place.

This part of the scene ends with Scrooge's sending Cratchit back to work "before I am forced to conclude that your services are no longer required." Cratchit looks hurt as he obeys, but I have to admit that I don't feel completely sorry for him.