Not Quite Scrooge.

I just watched the 1951 film Scrooge for the umpteenth time, and I still say that the two most convincing characters (apart from Scrooge himself, played brilliantly by Alistair Sim) are the charwoman and the wide-eyed maid who lets the reformed Ebenezer into Fred’s dinner party at the end.

But it was the message which struck a chilling chord with me. I don’t keep Christmas myself, you see, and I have been known to sit a sad and solitary figure in front of a meagre fire on Christmas Eve with a bowl of pea and potato soup perched precariously on my knee. But I took heart from the fact that at least I feed the birds, so maybe I might be spared the ignominy of having my bed curtains purloined and sold for a pittance to the rag and bone man.