I got an interesting Christmas present in my stocking this year: The 1935 Seymour Hicks version of Dickens' "Christmas Carol." What a treat! It's not a good film, and Hicks is a terrible Scrooge, but seeing what this film did wrong made me realize what the 1951 Alister Sims version did right, so I was glad to have gotten it. If you're curious to see what I'm talking about, then read on.
For me the fascinating thing about the Hicks version (called "Scrooge") is that the mistakes it makes are ones I might have made myself if I'd directed it. It's like seeing someone fall down a manhole when they stepped into the very place I was going to step. But those mistakes aren't evident at the start. The film begins just fine with grand and ominous music which turns into "Hark the Herald Angels Sing." Well, you can't argue with that. So far, so good.
Then we establish old London with a shot of the rooftops at night. No narration. The grand orchestral version of "Hark" is replaced with a cheesier version done by street musicians, and that motivates a pan down to Scrooge's office. A natural sequence of events you say but...uhoh...I'm already feeling antsy. Something's gone amiss. But what? The move seems logical enough.
Inside Scrooge's office we slowly dolly up to his back. The filmmaker wants to tease us with a back shot that doesn't reveal yet...a standard trick...but it's not working! Geez, I'm getting itchy, just thinking about it. Something is terribly wrong!
The camera slowly swings around and shows us Cratchit at his desk, struggling to keep warm. In the minutes that follow he tries to sneak some coal into the stove and Scrooge finally turns and yells at him. Once again we have what seems like a natural sequence of events...
so why is it so screamingly wrong!?
I could go on like this, but instead I'll ask a question: the filmmaker obviously believes the relationship between Scrooge and Cratchit is the central conflict in the film. Do you agree?
And another quetion: Seymour Hicks serves up a Scrooge who's an elderly, one-dimensional miser. Is that really what Dickens had in mind? [Jenny Lerew makes an interesting answer in the comments to the previous post.]
I infinitely prefer the 1951 Alister Sims version, which in America is known as "The Christmas Carol." It begins with a page from Dickens' book (above) and this time there's a narrator. He says, "Old Marley was dead as a doornail. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing meaningful can come of the story I'm going to relate."
That's a marvelously playful beginning! The beautiful words inform us that this is a story which will be constructed with bricks of virtuoso dialogue and showmanship. The Hicks film attempted to make a conventional drama out of the story. Big mistake! Christmas Carol is a drama alright, but it's also a performance piece, a platform for unforgetable images and wit, a poetic edifice, a vehicle for word music. it's more than drama. All my favorite stories are like that, including cartoon stories.
Inside the stock exchange (above0 Scrooge walks up to camera as the narrator explains that "The register of Marley's burial was signed by Scrooge, and Scrooge's name was good on the Exchange for anything he chose to put his hand to." That's a beautiful sentence, isn't it? Anyway, he's stopped by two business men who inquire if he's leaving early because it's Christmas Eve. Scrooge responds with wonderful "humbug"-type dialogue and storms out.
I like the idea of beginning the story in a social setting, and especially one as formal and institutional as the stock exchange. The setting makes fills us with wonder that mankind can organize itself to accomplish great things, and yet still be moved to celebrate deeply sentimental holidays like Christmas.
The scene also introduces us to Scrooge, who far from being a rigid old miser, is a witty warrior ready to do battle with the sea of idiots he believes surround him. And I like the fact that Sims is a young man playing an old man. The role demands an actor who can plausibly seem to possess boundless energy if only he'd remove the obstacles that confine it.
Outside (above), Scrooge is acousted by a guy who begs more time to pay his debts. If Scrooge won't give him an extention he and his wife will have to go to debtor's prison. The back and forth is so skillfully and musically done, and Scrooge's "humbug" dialogue is so funny, that the scene is easily elevated into a set piece. Arguably the scene inside the exchange was a near set piece, too. Dickens
loves his set pieces. The film has barely started and we've already had two...but hold your hat! Another one is on the way, the best one in the whole film.
I refer of course to the one where the two public-spirited men hit up Scrooge for a donation for the poor. It's the most memorable thing in the film. Don't ever let anybody tell you that best scenes should be saved for the later part of a story. Set-ups are almost always the most important part of a story, and best scenes are used to greatest advantage there.
There's more to say, but I guess that's all there's room for. Soon I'll put up the Theory Corner Store where I'll sell pamphlets covering subjects like this in more detail than I'm able to do here. The price will be low enough that you'll be to afford it even if you're living in a cardboard box, and have to read with a flashlight.
BTW: My friend Byron Vaughns is selling off part his comic collection. He tells me he's parting with his vintage HAHA and GIGGLE comics, some for as low as 5 bucks. I haven't seen them, but these titles are highly regarded by animation artists. Check out the list on his site:
http://www.byronvaughns.com/comic_book_sales.html
