(A review of The Man Who Invented Christmas)
**** out of five stars
Currently in theaters
by Walter G. Tarrow
A Dickens of a Twist on A Christmas Carol
No, it is not a movie about some tinkerer who comes up with a newfangled excuse to pick a man’s pocket every 25th of December. That’s already been invented, and that invention is in full use, not just on December 25, but every day of the year, by the GOP Congress.
And no, it’s not about a man who invented the true meaning of Christmas. That had already been invented.
It is a movie that has as its central conceit a trip inside the mind of Charles Dickens (Dan Stevens, the Beast in Beauty and the Beast) supposedly to give us insight into the creative process that gave us the beloved holiday classic.
In this fantasy, A Christmas Carol almost writes itself as Charlie, no longer flush with praise and cash from his American tour a year earlier, and deep with writer’s block, struggles to craft his next success. As he wanders the streets of Londontown, he encounters the impoverished and the wealthy, cold hearted misers and the tragic needy, behaving as will his characters and pronouncing the very same lines that will become immortal in his Christmas book.
As example, a rich man attending one of his readings complains that Dickens is wrong in featuring the poor as central characters in his books. When Charlie challenges him saying many would rather die than be sent to the workhouses, the pompous ass declares “then they had better do it and decrease the surplus population.”
And, most revelatory, he imagines, with help from a happenstance graveside meeting with Old Scratch himself (Christopher Plummer), his Scrooge who, along with some others, all first real, then imagined, guide him through the writing.
The major conflict is in the ending. How can Dickens let Tiny Tim die? How can Scrooge have a change of heart, become a generous charitable compassionate man?
And now here’s where the screenplay stumbles. It loses its charm, its spirit, when it claims the story of Scrooge parallels, in basic ways of family, friendship and charity, the real life story of Charles Dickens himself. What begins and continues as a lighthearted unfolding of memorable moments and characters straight from the pages of the book turns dark and darker as Charlie recalls his childhood abandoned to the workhouse by a ne’er-do-well father (Jonathan Pryce).
The real holiday treat, not that we need yet another Ebenezer, but Christopher Plummer, in his brief times onscreen, brings an added dimension to the character. He laughs much, more so than any of the dozen Scrooges I’ve seen. And in his laughter, his sarcastic righteous challenging laughter, he confronts Dickens with harsh truths.
This is a film for lovers and scholars of A Christmas Carol. If you aren’t passionate about the tales of a mean old Mr. Grinch. If you can’t quote at least 25 lines from story, then you’re better off with the 1951 film version with Alistair Sim.
And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God bless Us, Every One!
