THERE is no better Christmas story or film than A Christmas Carol.
I say this because Charles Dickens’ classic short story, about old bitter miser Scrooge being given a chance for redemption when haunted by three ghosts on Christmas Eve, can be enjoyed on two levels.
Firstly, the heart-warming spirit of Christmas does of course shine through when Ebenezer realises the error of his mean old ways. Sentimental claptrap it may be, but then what’s wrong with sentimental claptrap once a year?
But how many of us, having returned from some nightmarish festive shopping trip or soul-crushingly awful annual office party, haven’t wanted at times to cheer on the old curmudgeon and his anti-Christmas stance. Just shut the door and say ‘bah humbug’ to turkeys, trees and John Lewis ads. Surely I’m not the only one.
In this humble writer’s opinion Alistair Sim remains the best Scrooge, in the 1951 black and white version, followed by Patrick Stewart, and Michael Caine’s isn’t bad – but then Bob Kermit’s Cratchit does rather steal the latter’s thunder.
