The Muppet Christmas Carol
This is the sixth entry in an ongoing series about the immortal classic and its many adaptations. The entire series (in progress) can be found here.
Something crucial has been missing from all of the adaptations of A Christmas Carol that I’ve written about so far, something I hadn’t even realized was missing until the opening lines of dialogue in The Muppet Christmas Carol delivered it with easy silliness.
EXTERIOR — CROWDED, BUSTLING STREETS OF LONDON, CAMERA TRACKS DOWN FROM THE ROOFTOPS, BRINGING TWO BUSINESSPIGS IN FANCY SUITS AND TOP-HATS INTO FRAME
PIG 1: Ah, [snort, snort, snort, snort] that was a fine meal.
PIG 2: Yes, it was, wasn’t it?
PIG 1: Yes, what should we do now?
PIG 2: Let’s have, uhh—lunch!
PIG 1: Oh, good idea!
What has been missing, in a word, is irreverence. While other adaptations have exhibited some of the author’s humor and plenty of his wit, what hasn’t translated at all is Dickens’ joyful irreverence. This is mostly attributable to the fact that the camera is a poor substitute for the voice of a narrator, and it’s Dickens’ narrator that provides all of the endearing impertinence in the text. The very first two paragraphs set the attitudinal tone, and it’s nothing like the dreary slog of the book’s main character.
Without the narrator’s voice to insist otherwise, most adaptations end up adopting the frigid mood of Scrooge as the default communicative language of the film. The Muppets, by dint of being goofy-looking puppets with funny voices, don’t have this problem. Opening their version of the Carol with a gag about pigs in fancy suits about town on the important business of eating all day is more than just a throwaway joke—it strikes an immediately irreverent tone, much as the book does. The audience knows that for all the seriousness and sentiment that will certainly follow—we’ve heard this one before, after all—we’re primarily here to have a good time. The introduction is a welcoming-in of the audience, democratic and funny—and a pleasant change from the dour tone of other beginnings to this story.
This is made all the more explicit with the introduction of Charles Dickens as a character, played by Gonzo, in the role of in-movie narrator. Using Gonzo’s Dickens as a direct-to-audience narrator is a fourth-wall breaking choice of which Dickens himself would be proud, allowing for all sorts of clever, meta jokes and moments that bring levity back into the proceedings when things start to get dark.
Gonzo-as-Dickens also gives the screenwriters the chance to bring some of Dickens’ wonderful non-dialogue prose to the screen, something sadly lacking in the other adaptations. “Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire, secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster,” Gonzo says of Scrooge, direct from the book. “Darkness is cheap, and Scrooge liked it.” These heavy sentiments—for a kids’ movie, certainly—are made lighter by the fact they’re being voiced by a puppet made of blue carpeting and interspersed with plenty of Muppets-y slapstick. An early spooky moment is even undercut with a bit of Dickensian meta-commentary.
Gonzo: And with that, the spirits of Scrooge’s partners vanished into the darkness, leaving him once again alone in his room.
Rizzo the Rat: Whoa, that’s scary stuff. Should we be worried about the kids in the audience?
Gonzo: No, it’s all right—this is culture.
Rizzo: Oh, uh, jellybean? I had them in my pocket all along.
Even with all the Jim Henson Company flourishes, and despite it being a musical, The Muppet Christmas Carol hews closely to the source material, hitting all the familiar beats along the way. The Ghost of Christmas Past takes Scrooge to his boyhood school, his first job at Fozziwigs’ (played by Fozzy Bear as a rubber chicken magnate), and through his broken engagement. The Ghost of Christmas Present takes Scrooge on a tour of various Christmas celebrations around London—including his nephew’s and the Cratchits’—where he learns the value of Christmas and family. And finally, the Ghost of Christmas Future seals the deal by revealing the final wages of man’s inhumanity to man. One might not think that a musical starring mostly puppets and just a couple of human actors and that prominently features throughout a rat whose comedic range is being dumb and doing pratfalls would make for a faithful (or very good) retelling of the Dickens classic. But it is both faithful and good—it all works!
A brief aside for a nitpick about an otherwise delightful movie: The writing for Scrooge in the Present interlude is not nearly as good as it is throughout the rest of the movie. He earnestly asks the ghost to educate him about family and kindness and Christmas, and it just doesn’t ring true.
When Scrooge awakens on Christmas morning, he is a changed man, and now even musically inclined. He leads the people of London in a Christmas song, spreading gifts and good cheer throughout the city.
How It Ranks, Because That’s What’s Important
The Muppet Christmas Carol is the first of the movies listed below that I can see myself willingly and happily re-watching every Christmas season. The Muppets capture the whole spirit of the original, and of the whole damn season, in a genuinely moving way. The unnatural cheeriness and cheesiness of a family puppet musical matches perfectly the tone of Scrooge’s transformation in the denouement (video above), making this ending far more emotionally satisfying and tonally consistent than most. In other adaptations, Scrooge’s overnight transformation sometimes feels jarring, and the hugging of strangers and handing out of bags of gold can look like the behavior of a man having a mental breakdown. But when it’s Michael Caine singing about his newly remade Thankful Heart, dancing in the streets, and handing out cheese to poor mice, it’s all just ridiculous and over-the-top enough to work. I’d never seen this movie before I watched it for the purposes of this column, and I didn’t expect to like it, based on a combination of Muppet and musical skepticism. I was wrong. This movie is a delight, worthy of five Bah!(s) Humbug! on the patent-pending Brain Iron Bah! Humbug! Rating Scale.
The Muppet Christmas Carol
I didn’t find another spot for this song elsewhere, so I’ll just stick it here. Our introduction to Ebenezer Scrooge is a song performed by all of his neighbors, the people who know him best and fear him most. It frames him as having isolated himself from the whole community, even before we learn about the ways he has cut himself off from friends and family. “When a cold wind blows, it chills you, chills you to the bone, but there’s nothing in nature that freezes your heart like years of being alone.”
Various Carols Character Representations — Power Rankings
Ebenezer Scrooge
Michael Caine, The Muppet Christmas Carol — With many other characters getting expanded roles, and the notable insertion of the Dickens character, the fate of the movie might not seem to hang on the Scrooge performance quite so much here as it does in other versions—but Caine is terrific regardless, despite only having Muppets to play off of. His early hate and fury is sardonic and bottled before it is suddenly violently explosive, his fear that he cannot change the future palpable and heartbreaking, and you can see the truth of his eventual transformation in his eyes as understanding crosses over his face. Caine’s all-in, totally straight performance wouldn’t be out of place in any adaptation, and here it balances the sillier, Muppets-ier elements into a concoction that feels quite real. The best Scrooge yet.
Patrick Stewart, A Christmas Carol (1999)
Scrooge McDuck, Mickey’s Christmas Carol
Sir Seymour Hicks, Scrooge (1935)
Reginald Owen, A Christmas Carol (1938)
Bob Cratchit
Richard E. Grant, A Christmas Carol (1999)
Kermit the Frog, The Muppet Christmas Carol — Kermit is surprisingly effective as the perpetually dumped-on Cratchit, his good nature making him well-suited to a character who maintains faith in the decency of the world despite the balance of the evidence. Given his meme-life as a tea-drinking moralizing sarcastic asshole, it’s refreshing to see him back in his natural Muppet habitat, just being Good.
Mickey Mouse, Mickey’s Christmas Carol
Donald Calthrop, Scrooge (1935)
Gene Lockhart, A Christmas Carol (1938)
Nephew Fred
Dominic West, A Christmas Carol (1999)
Steven Mackintosh, The Muppet Christmas Carol — This Fred is just fine, another human character doing his best in a sea of Muppets. He gets a slightly expanded role in the early visit to his Uncle’s getting in a couple of good quips as he sits in on the meeting between the charity-seekers and Scrooge.
Robert Cochran, Scrooge (1935)
Barry MacKay, A Christmas Carol (1938)
Donald Duck, Mickey’s Christmas Carol
The Ghosts
Marley
Statler and Waldorf, The Muppet Christmas Carol — Marley is transformed from one character to two, and from a character who is supposed to scare the bejesus out of Scrooge into scene-stealing comedic relief. This sort of deviation from the text should upset me, but I’d be lying if I ranked them anywhere but the top spot so far. The song is good, the scene is funny, and their presence is purely enjoyable.
Goofy, Mickey’s Christmas Carol
Bernard Lloyd, A Christmas Carol (1999)
Leo G. Carroll, A Christmas Carol (1938)
Lame Disembodied Voice, Scrooge (1935)
Past
Jessica Fox, The Muppet Christmas Carol — The filmmakers decided to create new puppet characters for the Ghosts Past, Present, and Future, in order to up the spooky-factor, rather than relying on Muppet characters whose established personalities might get in the way. The results are good, especially with the Ghost of Christmas Past. The puppet was shot underwater to give it that floaty/ethereal look, and the effect is equal parts beautiful and spooky—and quite a seamless visual effect for something made thirty years ago. The weird old-baby face of the puppet doesn’t hurt the unsettling nature of the interaction, either.
Jiminy Cricket, Mickey’s Christmas Carol
Joel Grey, A Christmas Carol (1999)
Ann Rutherford, A Christmas Carol (1938)
Lame Bright Light, Scrooge (1935)
Present
Willie the Giant, Mickey’s Christmas Carol
Jerry Nelson/Don Austen, The Muppet Christmas Carol — The Ghost of Christmas Present doesn’t get to sing my favorite song in the movie, but he’s gregarious and enjoyable enough, otherwise, to make up for it. I may have mentioned it elsewhere, but the consistency of the character design for this spirit from one adaptation to another continues to delight. Here is the what Dickens’ says about the ghost—it’s amazing how such a simple description can translate to such consistent interpretation across animated, puppeteered, and live-acted characters.
“Come in!” exclaimed the Ghost—“come in! and know me better, man!” […]
“I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,” said the Spirit. “Look upon me!”
Scrooge reverently did so. It was clothed in one simple, deep-green robe, or mantle, bordered with white fur. This garment hung so loosely on the figure that its capacious breast was bare, as if disdaining to be warded or concealed by any artifice. Its feet, observable beneath the ample folds of the garment, were also bare, and on its head it wore no other covering than a holly wreath, set here and there with shining icicles. Its dark-brown curls were long and free, free as its genial face, its sparkling eye, its open hand, its cheery voice, its unconstrained demeanor, and its joyful air. Girded round its middle was an antique scabbard, but no sword was in it, and the ancient sheath was eaten up with rust.
Desmond Barrit, A Christmas Carol (1999)
Oscar Asche, Scrooge (1935)
Lionel Braham, A Christmas Carol (1938)
Future
Don Austen, The Muppet Christmas Carol — The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come is a big, hulking creep of a spirit, appropriately spooky and silent beneath the silvery-dark robes. It also emanates a bit of compassion for Scrooge, occasionally reaching out to take him by the shoulder, in addition to pointing him to the horrible scenes he needs to see. It’s a touch not found in other versions of the character, perhaps as an attempt to relieve some of the potential terror sneaking up on the younger part of the audience. But it works—the spirits are here to help Scrooge, after all.
Pete, Mickey’s Christmas Carol
D’Arcy Corrigan, A Christmas Carol (1938)
Tim Potter, A Christmas Carol (1999)
Lame Shadow, Scrooge (1935)
Tiny Tim
Philip Frost, Scrooge (1935)
Ben Tibber, A Christmas Carol (1999)
Robin the Frog, The Muppet Christmas Carol — The Cratchit family, in this version, is made up of Kermit and his wife Miss Piggy, and their four children—two pigs and two frogs. How, precisely, this is any sort of biological reality in Muppet-land leaves me with so many questions that I don’t really want the answers to, for the sake of my mental health. But maybe it does explain how they ended up with one gimpy weakling of a son—the undistinguished as ever Tiny Tim. At least the musical nature of this adaptation gives Tiny Tim the chance to convince the spectrally voyeuristic Scrooge of the value of his sad amphibian life with a treacly original song, instead of just the old “God bless us, everyone” standby. The frog would probably be higher on this shoddy list, but his is my least favorite song in the movie, so he’s relegated to the middle.
Morty or Ferdie Fieldmouse, Mickey’s Christmas Carol
Terry Kilburn, A Christmas Carol (1938)
Next time, Scrooged!—Bill Murray’s dark, extremely 1980s take on the immortal classic, featuring a workplace shooting, VCRs, Buster Poindexter, and gifts of raw veal.