Scott Looms Huge as Surly Scrooge

Over the weekend, one of my brother's best friends played Ebenezer Scrooge in a production of the musical Scrooge at his high school. Between work and other prior commitments, I wasn't able to attend, which is a shame because I've no doubt his friend did a fantastic job. But last night I immersed myself in Dickens' beloved story with the George C. Scott version of A Christmas Carol.

I was just remarking to my parents how many film versions there are of this story, both fairly straightforward adaptations and more unconventional fare such as A Diva's Christmas Carol and Scrooged. While the jury's still out on my favorite version, my dad's is unquestionably Scott's, and I can certainly see why. A powerful presence who inhabited the roles of the cantankerous General Patton, the fiery preacher Matthew Harrison Brady and the gleefully villainous Percival McLeach (just his voice, but anyone who can get me to love a poacher gets high marks in my book), he was ideally suited to the larger-than-life role of Scrooge.

With his naturally gravelly voice, he puts all his bluster into the role, muttering darkly to himself about all the various annoyances inherent in this holiday for him and, when Scrooge is confronted directly, delivering his lines with a snarky magnificence. Scrooge clearly derives a Simon Cowell-esque sadistic pleasure from flinging zingers at the well-intentioned, warning the ever-patient Bob Cratchit (David Warner) that if he doesn't contain his Yuletide enthusiasm, "you will keep your Christmas by losing your situation," giddily informing the ghost of Jacob Marley (Frank Finlay) that "there's more of gravy than grave about you," and, of course, cruelly suggesting to the men collecting donations for the poor that if these people are going to die anyway, they'd better get on with it and "decrease the surplus population."

This is a man who has built a wall of arrogance around himself as a means of convincing himself that he isn't miserable, that hoarding money and refusing to show any compassion for others brings some sort of satisfaction. But when the ghosts arrive and begin to chip away at that wall, we come to realize that underneath all those years of petulant solitude lies a man who loved deeply and got so caught up in making something of himself, to provide for his ladylove and to prove to his father that he was a worthwhile person, that he forgot what it was he really cared about.

The visitation from the ethereal Ghost of Christmas Past (Angela Pleasence) awakens his nostalgia and forces him to recall the missed opportunities of his youth, but it is with the vivacious (and occasionally terrifying) Ghost of Christmas Present (Edward Woodward) that his transformation truly begins, for it is at this point that he realizes what he has been missing out on that he can actually still change. While the storyline involving his magnanimous nephew Fred (Roger Rees, who also narrates) is both touching, reconnecting Scrooge with his past and making him a part of a family, and humorous, I confess I am rather distracted by an unexplainable distaste for Fred's physical appearance here. I love the character, but there's something in the combination of the curly hairdo, the slightly crooked teeth and the overall sprightliness of his features that irritates me. I much prefer Steven Mackintosh, who portrays him in The Muppet Christmas Carol.

At any rate, important as Fred is, the real heart of the story is in Scrooge's relationship with his faithful employee, of whose living conditions he previously had no idea and in whose family he showed no interest. When he witnesses the depth of affection and gratitude present in Bob's humble home, particularly the impenetrable virtue of Bob himself and the tenderness and optimism of his sickly son Tiny Tim (Anthony Walters), he realizes just how lucky he is to have such a man in his employ and that he should be making a much greater effort to look after his well-being. Though he is reluctant to admit to his concern at first, he is unable to mask it by the time he visits the Cratchit home once more with the Dementor-like Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, and the terror he experiences is not merely for himself, seemingly condemned to die alone and friendless and have his possessions ransacked by the destitute, but for the child for whom he has come to feel genuine compassion.

While Scott's performance is exceptional, I am equally moved by Warner, whose Bob I prefer over all others, even Kermit the Frog's. He has a warm, comforting sort of voice, used to great effect as the narrator of Pooh's Grand Adventure and Jor-El in Lois and Clark, not to mention the wise Chancellor Gorkon, the ill-fated Klingon leader in Star Trek VI, though he can play despicable too, as he showed so aptly in Titanic. Anyway, Bob's unrelenting decency is the perfect counterpoint to Scrooge's acquired vice, and I feel just a little bit better about the human race in general whenever he's on-screen.

He also is integral to what I think is my favorite moment in the entire film (and delightfully reminiscent of the moment in Return of the Jedi when Leia reveals to Han that Luke is her brother), when Scrooge, having bellowed at Bob for arriving nearly twenty minutes late for work on the 26th and paused gravely for a proclamation of the consequences, announces with cackling glee that he is going to double his salary. Bob just stares blankly at Scrooge for a moment, shell-shocked and most likely thinking that the cheese has slipped right off his boss's cracker, and with whispery incredulity asks, "Double my salary, sir?" As Scrooge rattles off his grand plan for Bob's family, the enormity of what has occurred begins to sink in, so that when his employer asks what's the matter with him (as his face still is registering his shock), he breaks into the most sincere and luminous of smiles and thanks Scrooge most heartily.

The often gritty but sometimes warm and magical look of the film keeps us firmly rooted in Dickens' world throughout, and the Christmas carols performed by musicians out in the street are gorgeously done and also help to demonstrate the change in Scrooge, as he goes from considering them aggravating noise to beautiful music. Much of the dialogue is lifted right from the book, and the rest fits right in. If one could ever pin the title "definitive" on an adaptation that has been done so many different times, I think this version has to come out on top. Everything comes together magnificently in this heart-warming classic tale of redemption. God bless us, everyone... especially Charles Dickens and George C. Scott.