The story of A Christmas Carol, at this point in time, is inherently creatively bankrupt. We’ve seen every single possible iteration, retelling, recast, and angle. This has been a comedy, Mickey Mouse, The Muppets, Bambi, motion capture, multiple musicals, even told as Charles Dickens’ life while writing the story. Scrooge has been played by every A-lister under the sun, from Bill Murray to Tim Curry, Sir Patrick Stewart to Sir Michael Caine, Kelsey Grammer to Jim Carrey.
After knowing all 100+ adaptations of this story, Ebenezer piqued my interest when I read “A Christmas Carol like you’ve never seen it before”. How does this manage to set itself apart so much that it’s able to build its entire marketing campaign around it? Simply, it doesn’t and seems to make very little attempt to. Any change that it does actually make is either inconsequential to the story or removes it even further from the messages it's trying to portray.
I’ll concede, there are a few pros here. There’s some great casting and amazing performances, the production design is spot on, and this does turn Scrooge’s love interest into much more of an actual character, rather than a plot device. However, almost everything either has some sort of caveat attached to it or is so much worse than these few positives.
One of the most perplexing things in this movie was how, in the first act and a few scenes throughout his journey, it seems as if the filmmakers are trying to almost get us on Scrooge’s side. As we first enter his house, the camera focuses on a leak in his roof, making it seem as if he’s also going through hard times. The charity men who arrive at Scrooge’s business end up showing themselves as fraudsters, making it obvious as to why he wouldn’t donate. Even a few moments in his past - specifically with his father - make it seem like he was simply shaped by the system he grew up in, like it's not his fault.
This entire movie moves along with such a lack of pace in any regard. Scenes go on far too long and offer very little over their initial purpose, most of the time - likely helped by the atrocious script - I was just waiting and hoping that we’d soon move onto the next phase of Scrooge’s journey, simply because it meant we were that much closer to the credits. This problem was helped in absolutely no way by this being split into chapters, adding an unnecessary title card into a story that is already naturally split up.
Throughout, Johnny Depp adds a level of childish comedy to his character of Scrooge, which I found not only unnecessary, but also spits in the face of Dickens’ original novel. Most of the reason it seems they added these small blips is to add some semblance of relief and comedy to this story, one that’s been completely stripped down to nothing but its frail horror bones. However, not only does every moment of comedy feel incredibly forced, but it also puts the newfound bleakness of this movie - based on an albeit somewhat dark, though ultimately uplifting story - on full display.
Moving on to the meat of this story: the various ghosts. First off, there’s not really much to say on the topic of Jacob Marley. Sir Ian McKellen is a gem and does the best he can with what he’s given, though Johnny Depp’s - especially blatant in this scene - comedic acting dampens any feeling that could be evoked from this scene; you’ll find that can end up a common complaint in many scenes in which Depp is forced to command the screen.
The Ghost of Christmas Past felt like way too much of a threatening figure here. Yes, it’s meant to always be a somewhat cold, authoritative, yet gentle character, though the execution of these traits, mixed with the design of - rather than an ageless, paradoxical force, looking young and old all at once - a dead, pale Andrea Riseborough, it felt as if this character was attempting to almost steal the third ghost’s limelight.
The Ghost of Christmas Present is one that I’m somewhat conflicted on, almost solely because of Tramell Tillman. While this ghost comes off very different in many other adaptations, including Dickens’ novel, there’s one thing that I did quite enjoy about this one. That is how it would occasionally repeat phrases that Scrooge said in the beginning, almost showing him how evil his words truly sounded. Tillman does an incredible job with what he’s given, though this character is completely antithetical to what it’s meant to be.
Present should be portrayed as a welcoming, upbeat presence - one that allows Scrooge to want to continue on his journey, rather than being motivated by fear. This is such an important aspect, as this adaptation’s complete 180 on it creates a domino effect that puts every message at the end into question and makes Scrooge’s transformation feel disingenuous; he’s not doing good because he’s found love in his heart, he’s doing good because he’s scared of what will happen to him if he doesn’t.
Do you remember that story arc in the sitcom The Good Place, in which the only man on Earth who’s ever managed to figure out the afterlife - and only does things he believes will get him into their form of heaven - is actually losing points, going further into hell, because everything he does is inherently selfish? That’s what this version of A Christmas Carol turns Ebenezer Scrooge into.
The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come is one that I believe is truly done justice, though it’s hard not to. All that’s really required is a menacing figure in a black hood to point Scrooge in the right direction, staying silent since Scrooge knows the conclusions he must draw. However, I wasn’t a big fan of Yet To Come removing his hood, revealing himself as a form of Ebenezer, only for a crow to fly out of his mouth, pushing Scrooge into his own grave. It all felt like an overly complicated way to simply return Scrooge to his bed.
Finally, Scrooge wakes up on Christmas morning - after what feels like three hours of this journey - and we go through the motions of him righting his wrongs. However, much of this feels a little strange.
Rather than gifting Bob Cratchit a turkey - one that he wouldn’t dream of affording himself - to enjoy with his family, Scrooge gives his already quite rich nephew a duck. Scrooge declines to pay for Tiny Tim’s medical treatment, instead simply increasing Bob Cratchit’s pay, so he can pay for Tim’s treatment out of pocket. Ebenezer doesn’t even meet Tiny Tim once; he still remains a recluse of some sort.
While Scrooge is still doing good deeds throughout this finale, they all seem sprinkled with a touch of capitalism. Scrooge doesn’t want to level the playing field between him and his employees, but rather keep the hierarchy unchanged. He’d rather give something to the wealthy than to a family he knows is struggling.
All in all, Ebenezer ends up one of the least satisfactory adaptations of Dickens’ A Christmas Carol in recent years, taking so many wrong turns and messing up the tone completely. Ti West’s direction remains prevalent and proves he’d best remain strictly within horror. I can only hope the Christmas season at the cinema goes up from here, though the horizon doesn’t fill me with confidence.