Saturday 21 December 2019

A Carol Out of Tune.

I just watched the 1999 Patrick Stewart version of A Christmas Carol. When the opening credits revealed that it was a Hallmark production I should have realised that I would probably derive more satisfaction from taking a razor blade to my wrists, but decided to give the film the benefit of the doubt because it’s nearly Christmas and charity should be the watchword (allegedly.)

After about ten minutes I felt I could stand it no longer and was about to turn it off, but then changed my mind because I was curious to see just how bad it could get. It got startlingly bad, so let’s have some constructive criticism:

The script was depressingly unimaginative. The set design and lighting was banal in the extreme. The first few minutes alone were replete with glaring continuity errors. The costumes of the first and third spirits would have suited a third rate pantomime. Much of the acting was alarmingly wooden for what purported to be a professional production. In fact, most of the film was about the standard of an average am-dram effort, and occasionally it descended to a level which would have disappointed the director of a primary school play. And the whole sorry saga was suffused with that brand of syrupy mawkishness for which Hallmark is deservedly infamous.

The final scene showed us a happy Cratchit family about to enter Ebenezer’s posh pad, no doubt in expectation of a slap-up dinner fit to bring tears to the eyes of good Christians everywhere. And Tiny Tim sat on Uncle Scrooge's shoulder to utter the immortal words ‘God bless us every one,’ while I found myself warming to the pre-enlightened Scrooge after all.

The BBC is to show a new, darker, creepier version over the three nights approaching Christmas. I intend to watch it in the hope that I might be redeemed, as Scrooge himself is supposed to be. I’ll let you know if it fails.

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