Paperback , 58 pages. More Details Other Editions 2. Friend Reviews. To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up. Lists with This Book. This book is not yet featured on Listopia. Community Reviews. Showing Average rating 4. Rating details. More filters. Sort order. An emotionally engaging story. I enjoyed it.
Jan 16, Daniel R. Rodrigo marked it as to-read Nov 23, Davene Dustin marked it as to-read Sep 15, Mark D. Elwell, Reclaiming Malthus , 2 November , accessed 30 August Gloucester History Tour.
Amberley Publishing Limited. This would make his sister Fan older than Scrooge, while in some films Fan is portrayed as younger. Retrieved on Retrieved 22 November Radio Times.
December December 19, Retrieved May 19, Huffington Post. Retrieved 30 September The Independent. Archived from the original on Let's Nameus That Speciesus". The New York Times. Charles Dickens ' A Christmas Carol. Ebenezer Scrooge Bob Cratchit Mr. Scrooge A Christmas Carol Mrs. Bob Cratchit's Wild Christmas Binge Forbes Fictional Ewing Auric Goldfinger C.
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Montgomery Burns Lara Croft Mr. Monopoly Mary Crawley Jay Gatsby. Categories : Fictional characters introduced in A Christmas Carol characters Fictional accountants Fictional businesspeople Fictional bankers Fictional people from the 19th-century Fictional people from London Fictional misers Christmas characters Male characters in film Male characters in literature. Hidden categories: Articles needing additional references from December All articles needing additional references.
Namespaces Article Talk. Views Read Edit View history. Scrooge as, in the book, his sister Fan is much younger than him. But, then again, as Scrooge himself observes, "The spirits can do anything.. Of course they can. But, who really cares about liberties when you have such a first rate film version as this.
It's well acted, well told, well presented and, as it draws to a close, you find yourself most certainly wanting to ask for more - oops wrong book!
About This Item
Don't you sometimes find yourself longing for those long ago Christmas's when it always snowed; when happy folk in jolly bonnets and furry muffs walked about the streets, bursting into song at every drop of a hat; and you came down stairs on Christmas Morning to find that Santa had been in the night and had left a shiny new Chrysler Dodge in your Christmas stocking whilst you were sleeping? In this airing of the tale - which was brought to us by the Chrysler Corporation, a fact we keep getting reminded of throughout - Fredric March sticks a massive prosthetic conk over his own nose and, accompanied by a star lacking cast, many of whom appear to have stepped straight off the sets of those annoying 's washing powder commercials, he treats us to television's first musical version of A Christmas Carol.
From the opening moments, when an annoying boy soprano and a merry band of equally annoying carolers sing us through the snowy streets of Olde London town, to the closing moments, when a particularly cringe worthy Tiny Tim asks Scrooge "would you like to hear my Christmas song? Who which, given I spent a large part of the production hiding behind the sofa, most certainly did bring back happy childhood memories of Christmas's past.
The ghost of Jacob Marley is played by Basil Rathbone who holds aloft a large ledger in a manner that leaves you just waiting for him to utter the words "Ebenezer Scrooge, this is your life. Sally Fraser as the Ghost of Christmas Past takes him back to Fezziwig's party where we see him as he used to be and watch as he refuses to dance until his beloved Belle arrives.
As Scrooge backs away from these visions of the things that have been, crying "no more, no more", you find yourself in the rare position of actually agreeing wholeheartedly with the old curmudgeon, and crying out in unison. No sooner has Scrooge got back to the safety of his bed, than the orchestra strikes up again and a rich baritone breaks into his slumbers.ganibubbre.ml
A Christmas Story
And, there he is, the Ghost of Christmas Present, striking a pose that could have come straight from the centerfold of an edition of Playgirl , and bearing an uncanny resemblance to Scrooge's nephew, Fred, who we met earlier. Cratchit, treats us to a performance that is so wooden you expect Tiny Tim to limp over at any moment and stick her under his arm. Then, just when you think it's safe to come out from behind the sofa, Christopher Cook, as Tiny Tim, lets rip with a mournful ditty, watched by his adoring mum as she turns the goose on the spit and looks awfully like Mrs.
Cunningham from Happy Days. By now, the extended musical numbers have used up a huge chunk of the 60 minutes running time, so you can almost sense the panic as they realise they've got to cram the Ghost of Christmas yet To Come, Scrooge's redemption, and another plug for Chrysler into the fourteen or so minutes they've got left.
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Therefore, in a truly inspired piece of casting, the spirit of the future turns up as a crow perched on a tree branch in a mist enshrouded graveyard, and manages to cram all of Scrooge's Christmas's yet to come into 1 minute 40 seconds of screen time. We watch as Scrooge recoils in horror from the sight of his own name carved onto a gravestone and then proceeds to collapse onto the adjoining grave on which he sees, to his horror and our joy, the name Tiny Tim.
Thus, via another word about our sponsors, we join the redeemed Scrooge as he heads over to the Cratchit house and invites himself to their Christmas lunch, without, I couldn't help but notice, having, this time, paid for the turkey. He does, however, tell Bob "I'm going to raise your salary and we'll procure the best of care for Tiny Tim.
Bob then introduces his employer to his family, after which there follows an awkward moment in which the actors appear to have forgotten whose meant to speak next and proceed to exchange concerned glances before Tim saves the day by asking Scrooge "would you like to hear my Christmas song? The look that Scrooge shoots towards the front door says it all.
But, it's too late, there's no escape. He's trapped, hemmed in by the Stepford Cratchits and, as the orchestra strikes up, and Tim takes a deep breath, Scrooge's left hand closes in on the back of the boy's neck and you can see the torment etched into his features as he fights the urge to drive Tim's face hard into the table and end the torment once and for all.
As the strains of yet another overtly sentimental number fill the air, the camera zooms in on Scrooge's face which contorts into an array of contemplative, bizarre and pained expressions, which are intended to show him mulling over his regret for his past transgressions and his joy at his redemption, but which look more like he's got a certain something stuck in his zipper and the camera man's having a right laugh at his expense.
But, all good things must come to the end, and so too must this outing of Scrooge. So, it's with a heavy heart that you bid a tearful farewell to sixty minutes of your life that you're never going to get back, as you watch Tiny Tim struggle to his feet and bring the festivities to a close with a rousing "God Bless us, Everyone! For, no sooner have the credits ended, than the programme's host William Lundigan, who has popped up throughout to extol the virtues of Christmas and Chrysler, returns and utters the immortal words "now, here is Joan Evans who's going to tell us something about next week's Climax.
In what has been described as "the Holy Grail of lost Dickensian television adaptations" - well, that's what it says on the sleeve of the DVD - Basil Rathbone doffs his deer-stalker, and dons the garb of literature's most infamous misanthropic miser to give us his portrayal of Ebenezer Scrooge. This lavish musical production originally aired on the 23rd of December as part of the Alcoa Hour, and the fact the whole thing was done live makes it a truly impressive feat and achievement.
Although the show was originally broadcast in colour, the only recording of it was preserved by Kinescope, which consisted of a film camera being placed in front of a black and white television set in the studio, in order to record the show. For many years, this, the only recording of The Stingiest Man in Town , was believed to have suffered the fate of so many early TV shows, and was thought to have been lost or destroyed - hence its "Holy Grail" status amongst aficionados.
But then, in , a copy of the master reel was found in the home of a retired Alcoa executive; and this discovery meant that, just like Scrooge, we can now look back with mixed emotions on a bygone Christmas. Since this is a kinescope of a live broadcast, the quality of the recording varies enormously from scene to scene. Sometimes, it's excellent, other times its just about watchable.
This becomes immediately apparent in the opening sequence, as a cheery, upbeat American announcer's voice - a master class in upbeat America announcing voices if ever there was one - introduces us to the cast, who are shown looking awkwardly out from what appear to be a series of ship's portholes with, snow flakes stuck around them to give us the authentic feel of the season. There is an awkward moment when Robert Weede, who is wearing an odd head veil, is introduced, and the camera stays on him a little longer than was evidently intended, and you notice his eyes dart nervously from side to side as he wonders what's going on.
And then we get the news that the broadcast has been brought to us by the "Aluminum Company of America - The World's leading producer of Aluminum," - that's Aluminium for English readers and viewers - before the opening sequence closes with the revelation that the programme was produced by the, aptly named, Joel Spector - well, alright, I know for that line to work it should have been Joel Spectre, but, you get my drift - and, if you're listening to this on a screen reader, I bet you're in stitches!
They turn to mingle with the Victorian clad cast, who break into a rousing rendition, entitled An Old Fashioned Christmas , for which Johnny Desmond , playing the part of Fred, takes centre stage amidst a gaggle of gregarious extras who dance, fawn, kiss and pirouette their way through an opening number that soon gets your foot tapping along to the rhythm. As the dulcet tones drift off into the ether, Fred, wishes them all a merry Christmas and pushes open a door, over which we see the names of "Scrooge and Marley", and there he is, the wizened form of Basil Rathbone, crouched over his desk, scribbling away with his quill pen.
And then, Basil Rathbone does something that his agent really should have advised him not to do - he sings.
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