The Muppet Christmas Carol was also the first theatrical release during The Muppets’ troubled partnership with Disney. Despite Disney’s lacklustre legacy since their full takeover of The Muppets brand in 2004, A Christmas Carol enjoys a unique place in the Muppets chronology, benefitting from that sweet House of Mouse money yet enjoying more creative control. This concoction of incredible production value from Disney alongside the imaginative and creative prowess of The Jim Henson Company was the perfect storm. As such, The Muppet Christmas Carol is a chart-topping showstopper, considered by many to be the best of all Christmas films.

In this Movie List from The Film Magazine, all of The Muppet Christmas Carol has been put under the microscope and evaluated. Having explored each individual moment to see why this particular Muppets movie has become such a special festive favourite over the last 30 years, we have compiled a list of the most fun, emotionally resonant, powerful and beloved bits, for these: the 10 Best The Muppet Christmas Carol Moments.

Follow @thefilmagazine on X (Twitter).

10. Christmas Scat

By 1992, the technological innovation of the Jim Henson Company had come a long way since Jim himself had cut up his mother’s dressing gown to make his first sock puppet. The Muppet Christmas Carol is distinct from the previous cinematic releases of the Muppets as the direction took a bold step from camera angles akin to ‘The Sooty Show’, finally having the CG technology available to erase away pesky visible puppeteers. No more shots exclusively from the waist up! Thus, far more dynamic and exciting shots were finally achieved to truly fool us that the Muppets can inhabit our human world.

This technological innovation reaches its peak in this single scene of Bob Cratchit and Tiny Tim returning home from church whilst singing to each other. It’s hard to believe that this cute little scene was the most challenging to film, but the efforts in creating a free standing and dancing puppet will convince children that Kermit the Frog is just as real as Santa Claus.

Recommended for you: ‘The Muppet Christmas Carol’ at 30 – Review

9. One More Sleep ’til Christmas

For those who share in the tradition of watching The Muppets Christmas Carol on Christmas Eve, it is very likely due to this single song. Nothing is guaranteed to get young children as hyped and excited for Father Christmas’ imminent arrival as much Kermit the Frog does. After our first introduction to Michael Caine’s frankly terrifying Scrooge, no wonder his book-keeping staff are overjoyed by the prospect of having a day off.

This moment doesn’t just capture the excitement of the season, but also the solemnity. As Kermit sings the final notes of “One More Sleep ’til Christmas”, staring into the distance as a shooting star streaks by, a tangible melancholy fills the screen. The anxieties and hopes of the season come to a fruition for this single moment; will peace finally reign this Christmas? The whole mood is made more palpable knowing that Kermit’s performer Steve Whitmire was full of anxiety, filling his beloved mentor’s boots in the first feature film since his passing. Kermit’s pensive moment is as if a reassurance that Henson’s legacy is in safe hands.

In 2005, BBC4 revived the series, beginning with an adaptation of James’ story “A View from a Hill”, and there have been seven films made intermittently in the years following, all M.R. James adaptations barring one.

In the spirit of Christmas spooks, and the old tradition of gathering around the fire to tell a ghost story (as Dickens himself loved to do; he was responsible for many famous writers of the day giving ghost stories for anthologies specifically for Christmas, including Wilkie Collins and Robert Louis Stephenson), in this edition of Ranked we at The Film Magazine are taking all sixteen films, including the classics and the new releases, and ranking them for your reading and viewing pleasure. Sit back with a mug of cocoa, a roaring fire, and get ready to feel a little chill go across the bones. These are A Ghost Story for Christmas Films Ranked.

Follow @thefilmagazine on Twitter.

16. The Ice House (1978)

The second of two original stories created in the original run, The Ice House is the film which pretty much closed up shop on the series for nearly three decades.

In this tale, a gentleman staying at a luxury hotel in the countryside befriends the owners, a young brother and sister duo who seem to have the best interests of their residents at heart. But occasionally Paul feels some cold spells pass across him, and there’s definitely something strange and secretive about a modern, up-to-date establishment like this, with all its fridges and freezers, still having an ice house down the end of the garden.

The first film in the series to be directed by someone other than Lawrence Gorden Clark, the film suffers from being decidedly un-spooky, with a lack of chills save for perhaps one scene nearer the end. Irritatingly, it is also very uninteresting.

Ghosts are lacking in this ghost story, and whilst the performances try to lend… something, to the tale, it never really manages to rattle any chains. The final reveals are bland, and it’s easy to finish the film having forgotten pretty much everything as soon as it was said.

15. Stigma (1977)

The first of the two original stories from the original run, Stigma sees a mother at the mercy of an avenging spirit when a great boulder is moved from their garden. Now she’s bleeding everywhere, though there’s not a mark on her body, and her very life may be in danger…

Stigma is a fun concept, and it was certainly a risk for the series to both set a film in the modern day, and not be an adaptation of a previous work. Filmed in Avebury in Whiltshire, which was also used that year for the underrated family dark fantasy/folk horror serial ‘Children of the Stones’, there’s an attempt to blend past and present, bringing the traditional ghost story into the modern viewing age with an emphasis on bright red blood (hence the stigmata of the title) which possibly reflected the increase in explicit violence in film and TV happening in recent years. Despite this, the film just sort of… ends, and you can throw as much blood on the screen as you want; if it doesn’t chill the bones, it isn’t what we’re after.

Watch ‘Children of the Stones’, if you want good, spooky folk horror in the same setting in the same year.

Recommended for you: Blood Junkies (1993) Review

14. Martin’s Close (2019)

Peter Capaldi had acted in two ‘Doctor Who’ stories written by Mark Gatiss in the past, and now, not only is he back under Gatiss’ writing thumb, but also his directorial control (point to note: you’ll see many more ‘Doctor Who’ links as this list progresses).

This M.R. James adaptation has Simon Williams’ narrator regale us with a tale about a strange court case from the past, in which Capaldi’s Dolben must present the evidence for the conviction of a young man, Mr John Martin, on trial for the murder of a young woman. The strange part is, she has been seen by multiple witnesses, after she died.

This adaptation isn’t necessarily bad. The acting is strong (especially that of Peter Capaldi, but we all expected this), the direction is fine, and everything is generally ok. But therein lies the rub; it is ok. Nothing stands out, nothing really gets you sitting back in the armchair with your fingernails scratching at the leather.

Whilst the storyteller dramatisation idea with Simon Williams in his home is a commendable idea to recreate the story-by-the-fireside cosy feeling, it functions to interrupts the flow of the story when it shouldn’t, and constantly brings you out of any kind of immersion you might have felt. Despite everyone trying their best with what they have, it just doesn’t come together.

The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992)
Director: Brian Henson
Screenwriter: Jerry Juhl
Starring: Michael Caine, Dave Goelz, Steve Whitmire, Jerry Nelson, Frank Oz, Steven Mackintosh, Meredith Braun, Robin Weaver, Raymond Coulthard

Even on its 30th birthday there remains a melancholic touch to the opening moments of The Muppet Christmas Carol. Its immediate dedication to Muppets creator Jim Henson and fellow performer Richard Hunt (the voice behind Scooter), each of whom had died before the film’s production in the January of 1992, has grown more bittersweet over the years in lieu of Disney’s complete takeover of the Muppets franchise (even owning the rights to the word “Muppet”). In witnessing these dedications in the current era, it is difficult to not think of the words of Jim Henson’s close friend and long-time collaborator Frank Oz, who in an interview with Hadley Freeman of The Guardian in 2021, said: “The Disney deal is probably what killed Jim. It made him sick.”

Disney only gained full ownership of The Muppets in 2004, but they had pursued the frog and pig show since the late 80s: according to Oz, Jim had expressed interest in selling the company so that he could focus more on creation as opposed to running a business. However, in getting into talks with Disney’s head at the time, Michael Eisner, a Pandora’s Box of greed swung open, with Disney’s intent being to buy ‘Sesame Street’, which Henson was vehemently against. Jim Henson died suddenly in 1990, not soon after the beginning of these talks. The cause: toxic shock syndrome from a streptococcal infection.

‘Sesame Street’ remains out of Disney’s grasp to this day (though it has sadly been messed around with by the HBO and Warner Bros. merger), but Disney has indeed massively benefitted from its Muppet purchase with their massive backlog of movies, TV specials and numerous episodes of ‘The Muppet Show’ fleshing out their Disney+ streaming service library. Of course, since its purchase, Disney have helmed their own Muppet productions with one of their latest series ‘Muppets Now’ being lauded as the Muppets renaissance; but Oz in the same interview doesn’t pull his punches with regards to this latest output. The original voice behind Fozzie Bear and Miss Piggy hasn’t worked on any Muppet productions since 2007 and believes there is a stark difference between the Henson and Disney era of the Muppets:

“The soul’s not there. The soul is what makes things grow and be funny. ” 

Indeed The Muppet Christmas Carol finds itself in the middle of this claim – it is often revered as the hallmark of Muppet film productions and hasn’t been surpassed critically or in popularity since. Made in the shadow of his father’s passing, Brian Henson was the one in the director’s seat and (in accordance with Frank Oz’s claims) struggled with protecting his vision from the criticism of the Disney overseers. Thus, The Muppet Christmas Carol very much remains in the Henson era camp, and represents the importance of creativity and soul when it comes to creating truly memorable Muppets moments.

As it celebrates the big 3-0, now is the best time to examine how and why The Muppet Christmas Carol remains the perfect Muppet movie.

Charles Dickens’ 1843 novella “A Christmas Carol” is one of the most adapted works of English literature in history. It has featured prominently throughout the entirety of film and television, from the silent short films at the very beginning of Hollywood to a BBC and FX-collaborated mini-series starring Guy Pearce in 2019 and a number of feature releases in the 2020s. It truly is a timeless tale.

Recommended for you: A Christmas Carol Films Ranked

The story of a cruel and miserly money-lender’s reformation and redemption by learning the importance of kindness and generosity during yuletide – via a series of hauntings from the ghosts of Christmas’ past, present and future – has become as integral to telling the true Christmas message as the actual Nativity story. But, as Dickens’ festive tale has become so memorable that any Christmas lover could tell it as easily as describing the back of their own hand, how does one make a truly unique re-telling?

Frankly, the whole production of The Muppet Christmas Carol is nothing short of genius; the very idea of using Muppets to tell one of the greatest fables of all time is beautifully subversive. The creative team’s self-awareness of the Muppets’ association with goofy fun made the shattering of expectations of an asinine re-telling that much more brilliant. Of course, every opportunity to make a gag is taken and, despite this laugh-a-minute approach, the authenticity of the production team’s handling of the source material means The Muppet Christmas Carol certifies itself as one of the most evocative and dark film adaptions of them all. Consequentially, children are never pandered to but instead thrilled, leading them to be enthralled by re-watches as adults.

“Boy, that’s scary stuff! Should we be worried about the kids in the audience?”

“Nah, it’s all right. This is culture!”

The Muppet magic begins instantly as the opening credits present the Muppets themselves credited in the different roles (with Rizzo the Rat as Himself), alongside the correct listings of the human players, such as Michael Caine as Scrooge. This seamless blending of humans and Muppets, in not just the principle characters but also in the numerous extras, succeeds in the creation of a little world ripe to be immersed within. As such, both the zaniness of the Muppets and the seriousness of the humans are normalised, allowing for rapid but not jarring switches in tone.

The film’s MC is Gonzo the Great in the role of Charles Dickens, who is essentially the guide of the story through his narration. This is one of the key features that contributes to this adaption’s distinctiveness (and why it is also lauded as the best version); for by taking the story-teller approach there are no issues with exposition, so no awkward plot backflips are made to address key literary points. It also leads to greater authenticity, as the film is consequentially littered with direct quotes. There is no awkward out-of-time modern dialogue, just the atmospheric narration of one of England’s greatest wordsmiths.

Gonzo and Rizzo’s narration is largely responsible for the changing tone throughout the runtime, providing comic relief amongst the dark themes of the narrative. Unlike many modern children’s movies however, intense emotional moments are not ruined by unnecessary quips or sarcasm. The narrative vehicle complements sorrowful story beats, such as Gonzo comforting an upset Rizzo after witnessing a younger Scrooge lose the love of his life, and at times even completely stands back to let a heavy atmosphere breathe, such as in the sequence with the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come in which both narrators are completely absent. Conversely, their continuing shenanigans in trailing behind Scrooge during his ghostly journey helps to entertain younger viewers who may not be able to understand the main storyline, thus consolidating its universal appeal.

Gonzo and Rizzo being one of the main sources of the film’s comedy illustrates the intuitive casting of The Muppet Christmas Carol: human and Muppet. This is the first of the Muppets’ feature length movies in which the fuzzy puppets aren’t the narrative focus of the plot; the movie is more akin to ‘The Muppet Show’ in which the Muppets are the talented ensemble supporting the human guest star, and here they are used to their full potential. Many of the beloved Muppet characters have quite a short appearance (as many original puppets were necessary for the telling of this particular story), but they make their impact instantly, i.e Fozzie Bear’s simplistic optimism and Sam Eagle’s austere air (and his continuing American Patriotism even when trapped in a British novella).

Kermit the Frog has not only been the long-time straight man of the gang, but has also been the heart of most of the Muppet productions. The Muppet Christmas Carol is no exception. Here, our little green friend is cast in the role of Bob Cratchit, Ebenezer Scrooge’s underpaid clerk. If the magic of this film is to be summarised by one screen capture, it would be that of Bob Cratchit singing the last few notes of “One More Sleep ’til Christmas” whilst watching a shooting star fly past in the wintry cityscape. It is Kermit as Bob that steers the plot through its most poignant and saddest moments, soothing his family with wisdom relevant to those experiencing grief in real life.

Additionally, it is Kermit as Bob Cratchit who embodies the true meaning of Christmas through his joy. The joy of being able to spend time with his family, to share in their excitement of sharing a simple meal (but one prepared with love), and to feel pride in his children, particularly for their developing kindness and empathy. Even the usually flamboyant Miss Piggy manages to bring an understated tenderness and domesticity to her role as Emily Cratchit, pairing with Kermit in moments of sadness and the joy of family life (although she does manage to fling an insult at Scrooge’s fashion taste). And yet, the most ingenious Muppet casting of the film is Kermit’s nephew Robin as Bob Cratchit’s son, Tiny Tim.

Dickens had the unfortunate habit of making some of his main sympathetic characters absolutely detestable through their unnervingly sweet nature (looking at you “Oliver Twist”), so any depiction of Tiny Tim tends to be in danger of being utterly despicable. Luckily, when your cast is made up mostly of Muppets, nearly all of the characters have some guaranteed charisma, and quite frankly Robin as Tiny Tim is nothing short of adorable, the undisputed cutest performance of all adaptions.

Bob and Tim’s performance in the “Christmas Scat” is endearing, charming and joyful. Even when Tiny Tim leads the family in a song of “Bless Us All”, Robin’s performance avoids a sanctimonious air and is instead convincing as having a genuine love for his family and of those around him (especially as he seconds his father’s choice to name Mr Scrooge the founder of the feast). In what could have been something overly pious, unrelatable and cringe, the music and lyrics are inclusive through a non-denominational approach, with the prayerful intentions heartfelt and simple: the hopes for a happy Christmas and a happy family.

Credit must also be given to The Muppet Christmas Carol for portraying Tiny Tim as actually being sick: this lifts the adaption from clichéd disability inspiration into a fable of the injustice of poverty. Through his journey with The Ghost of Christmas Present, Scrooge is able to witness how his miserly ways and cruelty has a direct impact on the innocent people (and Muppets and creatures) around him. His wilful underpaying of his employees has threatened the health of innocent children and has potentially drastically shortened their life expectancy, and the guilt is etched all over Scrooge’s face. This represents the sincerity of this adaptation – Charles Dickens for all intents and purposes was the 19th Century equivalent of a modern-day social justice warrior who used his talents to channel his outrage over the poverty and mistreatment of the vulnerable throughout his society. In kind, The Muppet Christmas Carol makes every choice to give Dickens’ message as much impact as possible with no waste on dramatics and operatics.

The greatest shred of evidence of the production’s dedication to an authentic re-telling of Dickens’ story is the casting of Sir Michael Caine in the role of Ebenezer Scrooge. Michael Caine has admitted that he’d been dying to be a part of Muppet chaos since ‘The Muppet Show’ first aired in the 70s, which he was sadly never available to guest star on. As soon as he heard that a Muppets version of “A Christmas Carol” was in the works, he had his agent badger the production daily until he was offered an audition. He was duly offered the role that would become the most memorable to Sir Michael Caine himself, and would be the introduction to his incredible career for all generations that have been raised with this movie.

A common frustration with later Muppet features is the way human characters interact with The Muppets, often treating them as novelties or freaks, which can shatter the illusion. The same cannot be said of The Muppet Christmas Carol: Sir Michael Caine told director Brian Henson that he had the intention of acting as if he was doing a production for the Royal Shakespeare Company, which aligned precisely with what those behind the camera were reaching to achieve. A Scrooge acting as if it’s completely normal having a frog and rats work as his book-keeping staff is indeed the perfect recipe for top notch comedy. This is a key factor in the careful orchestration of this film’s tonal changes, allowing tension to be broken and giving young audiences a deeper insight into an often frightening story whilst providing them with raucously funny moments.

It is this sincere performance by Sir Michael Caine that carries most of the emotional weight of the movie and elevates Caine himself above other on-screen depictions of Scrooge. Many an actor’s version of Scrooge has been frozen into a curmudgeonly glower, particularly those offered by Albert Finney and Jim Carrey. In stark contrast, Michael Caine’s Scrooge is boasting the entire range, from cool derision to fiery rage and even a touch of gleeful sadism. Furthermore, his Scrooge lacks the initial twinkle in his eye that has often been employed in other adaptations, including Bill Murray’s and Kelsey Grammer’s; instead Caine employs the use of his iconic cold stare, the likes of which made him an unmissable movie star in violent films throughout the 70s and 80s, such as Get Carter. Michael Caine’s Scrooge is not only formidable but genuinely quite frightening, and therefore the progression of his character’s arc proves to be quite the wild ride as Caine’s performance through Scrooge’s tragedies and regrets is nothing short of incredibly moving. As Tiny Tim leads the Cratchit family in a round of “Bless Us All”, we melt as Scrooge melts; we see him fill up with guilt, regret, and even love and fondness – it’s etched all over his face. Scrooge’s redemption is not a case of us finding out what we knew all along, that Scrooge was a decent man deep down – Caine’s Scrooge is an actual transformation that had to win our sympathy through his moving experiences.

Thus it proves to be extremely frustrating that one of the most poignant scenes that provides significant backstory as to why Scrooge had become so cold is cut from the film. Meredith Braun as Scrooge’s fiancée Belle sings “When Love is Gone” when she ends her engagement with the young Scrooge as Caine looks on and shakily joins in with the last verse only to break down in tears. This scene was cut in the original theatrical release as Disney had thought it was too upsetting to younger audiences. It was subsequently included in the VHS version but was again excluded for the DVD, Blu Ray, television and streaming releases, much to the protest and dismay of those who grew up with the VHS version (especially at the news that the original master recording may have been lost, and especially as its exclusion leaves a jarring cut). Brian Henson revealed in 2020 that this version had been located and that the scene was hopefully going to be added back into later editions.

Ultimately, the cutting of this scene represents a lack of vision from Disney and supports their current reputation for preferring the least offensive and most lazy filmmaking, often coasting on the creativity of other innovators like Jim Henson, Stan Lee and George Lucas. When thoroughly examining the production choices of The Muppet Christmas Carol, it quickly becomes apparent that such powerful storytelling could never come from a boardroom, Disney or otherwise. The film’s message is not merely a reminder of being kind and generous during Christmas, it promotes the transforming power of kindness and preaches that the unfair hoarding of wealth is immoral, evil. Scrooge’s death in the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come’s vision is portrayed as brining joy to the townsfolk; the song “Marley and Marley” explicitly states Scrooge’s late partner’s greed as the cause of their damned afterlife (doomed to drag around heavy chains for all eternity). It really is a song many of us would want some of the current world leaders and public figures to sit down and listen to.

As such, the creative team behind The Muppet Christmas Carol have become a part of the rallying cry that has continued for well over a century since Dickens’ death. It is a film in defence of the vulnerable in society and denounces the greed of the super-rich. This is something that the tax dodging and anti-LGBTQ+ lobbying suits of the Walt Disney Company could never meaningfully achieve.

Score: 22/24

Recommended for you: The Muppets Movies Ranked

Although it was directed by a relatively unknown director, George Scribner, Disney animation heavyweights such as Glen Keane, Ruben A. Aquino, Mike Gabriel, Hendel Butoy and Mark Henn each leant a hand in making this film, helping to grow the anticipation for Oliver and Company even before its release.

On top of the animators, Oliver and Company featured musical and acting greats like Billy Joel, Bette Midler and Cheech Marin, each bringing their iconic sounds to this romanticised presentation of New York City.

Released only a year before the revolutionary and some would say studio-saving animation The Little Mermaid however, Oliver and Company (and so many of Disney Animation’s 80s films) faded into the background as the so-called Disney Renaissance roared into view.

In this Top List, we here at The Film Magazine are analysing everything from the animation style to the music on offer in this overlooked 1988 release, to offer to you 5 Reasons Why Oliver and Company (1988) Is an Underrated Animation Classic.

Make sure to follow us on Twitter to never miss another list like this.

1. The City Scape

Oliver and Company is jam-packed with iconic New York imagery from the very start to the very end, with the opening song being played over the New York skyline and yellow cab-lined streets, and ending in very much the same fashion.

Of course, cities have been in Disney films before, but they are always set earlier in the 20^th century and beyond, so Oliver and Company really brought the classic Disney animation into the modern world by setting itself in the contemporary United States. This is clearly a stylistic choice too, as New York’s iconic line-up of major brands are showcased throughout – from the well-known Coca-Cola billboards to the McDonald’s restaurants around the city. This was the first time known brands were included in a Disney animation, but it wasn’t done for the purpose of a cash grab and was only used to build a more authentic picture of modern day New York.

Overall, the setting for the film ends up making you feel nostalgic for 80s New York City, even if you’ve never been.

2. The Classic Animation Style

At the time of Oliver and Company’s release (1988), classic animation was the only type of animation that Disney was putting out. But since the turn of the century, this style has slowly been eradicated from our screens. So for most people, this now much older style of animation brings them the nostalgic feeling of watching their childhood favourites.

There is some “computer-assisted imagery”, seen most prominently in a subway chase scene, but generally Oliver and Company is one of the last of a dying breed of Walt Disney Animation releases in that it is a hand drawn feature.

It’s a romantic style for a romanticised portrayal of one the world’s great cities, and the perfect way to make a fairy tale location from a city often maligned for its trash and congestion.

Recommended for you: 4 of the Most Depressing Disney Movie Moments

The Personal History of David Copperfield (2020)
Director: Armando Ianucci
Screenwriters: Simon Blackwell, Armando Ianucci
Starring: Dev Patel, Hugh Laurie, Tilda Swinton, Peter Capaldi, Ben Whishaw, Ranveer Jaiswal, Daisy May Cooper, Darren Boyd, Gwendoline Christie

The idea of the departed looking down upon the world of the living with confusion and exasperation has been a source of whimsy for many. If indeed the dead do meet up for regular tete a tete, I wonder if the banes of the English classroom, Mr Shakespere and Mr Dickens, meet up on the regular to compare notes. Do they indeed peer over the clouds to witness the groans and screams of school children as their dusty tomes are slammed on to the desks. Credit must go to the British Education Board for their admirable efforts to create such heated animosity aimed at two of our nation’s greatest wordsmiths. Still, there is a small part of me that feels that one of these particular bastards, Charles Dickens, had it coming. I can still feel the exquisite pain of enduring hours of the dragging monotone of my classmates tripping over the pages of description about how Joe Gargery pours gravy. I was glad to be shot of him once I had fulfilled my curricular obligations.

However, as I have frequently rediscovered time and time again (like a repeated slap in the face), the real learning starts after school. In a pleasant turn of events, Armando Ianucci turns out to be a thoroughly entertaining teacher.

This shouldn’t really be a surprise; the man is an award-winning genius and a pillar of smart British comedy with the likes of ‘The Thick of It’,’I’m Alan Partridge’ and The Death of Stalin under his belt. If only he could have been transported to my Year 8 English Class so that his gift for political satire could have lifted out Dickens’ intended hilarious and cutting social commentary and made it relevant to a classroom of children coming to grips with their coming adulthood in the 21^st century. In The Personal History of David Copperfield, he effectively combines the comedy and the drama of the novel itself; one that stirs up huge empathy for Charles Dickens, this particular story being one of the most famous semi-autobiographical works ever written, the piece illustrating the great pains of Dickens’ own youth.

To state the obvious, The Personal History of David Copperfield is a story about growing up, but moreso it’s about the importance of being loved. The beginning of David Copperfield’s life is defined by happiness and utter wonderment until his world is turned upside down by his mother’s (Morfydd Clark’s) remarriage to the cold and wicked Mr Murdstone (Darren Boyd), who sends him away to a miserable existence in London at the first chance he gets. Eventually David escapes from the poverty and drudgery imposed upon him by his step-father and flourishes. Whilst enjoying better times, he tries desperately to cover-up his tragic past, self-conscious of the good opinions of his new high-society friends. He eventually learns the futility of his charade, discovering that the darkest moments of his childhood are in fact the origins of his greatest strength: his compassion.

The film has an incredibly strong start with David Copperfield’s early life. Ranveer Jaiswal is delightfully adorable as the young Copperfield – an incredible feat as young David has quite the propensity to philosophise which would be quite irritating from a less talented child actor. He manages to invoke surprised quirks of half-smiles, transporting us to the innocence of our own childhoods through his barely contained awe over the simple joys of his life. This incredibly sweet beginning paves the way for heartbreak as our illusion of narrative security is torn away by the introduction of Mr Murdstone. His first appearance is dread-filled, which is deepened twice-fold once he’s joined by his spinster sister (a short appearance by a haughty and cold Gwendoline Christie). Dread turns to pure hatred as we witness the inexcusable abuse Murdstone rains down upon David, finally resulting in David’s devastating separation from his mother. Dev Patel channels the audience’s rage as he sabotages his evil step-father’s bottle factory at the news of his Mother’s death.

Unfortunately, the film loses its pace after the halfway point, which inflicts the whole movie with an overall muddled narrative. There are still some dramatic thrills and comedic moments, but they are diluted and weak amidst this dull second half. Characters introduced within this portion don’t only lack the charisma of their earlier counterparts, but the likes of Dora Spenlow (Morfydd Clark again in a weird incestuous turn) were tedious beyond their original narrative purpose, lacking any entertainment value. The attempts to establish this film as a unique adaptation simply work to further confound the audience as the narrative unpredictably hops between hypothesis and actuality. Even worse, the story seems to lose sight of its purpose, resulting in an underwhelming finale, which is almost criminal considering how scathing Dickens’ social commentary was within his novel; a commentary that could have been appreciated by 21st century audiences.

The film’s saving grace is Ianucci’s talent for character driven pieces, as it is a perfect match to Dickens’ keen discernment for the hidden yet continuing absurdity of human nature. Ianucci effectively lifts the colourful oddballs that fill the pages of Dickens (which have had readers returning time and time again for a century and a half) and brings them to a full cinematic realisation. Like many of Dickens’ novels, the titular character steps aside to give room for the side characters and bring life to the story; much to the detriment of Patel’s performance, the actor unfortunately suffering from constant scene-stealing.

An instant crowd-pleaser is Peter Capaldi as Micawber: on the surface simple comic relief, but in truth a deeply tragic character. His bravado and joviality act as a meer sheen for his almost ferocious instinct for survival, which he desperately tries to suppress so as to keep a shred of his dignity. Oddly this false zest for life is what provides his continuing motivation despite his depressing. Mr Micawber could have easily been presented as a scoundrel or even just plain villainous through his shameless scrounging, yet he still reaps our sympathy and empathy. Ianucci understands the horror of the destitution Dickens describes, and cleverly uses the comedy of Micawber to enrage his audience. Micawber must consume to live, yet the society he lives within refuses him the means to do so. It is both rib-tickling and sobering to see an honest man’s roast chicken taken away by bailiffs.

Such faithfulness to the spirit of Dickens’ novel is what makes these characters so captivating, especially as no compromises were made to “modernise” them. An excellent example is the plight of Mr Dick (Hugh Laurie), an individual who believes that the fears and anxieties of Charles I left the King’s head upon his decapitation and are now plaguing his own mind. No pseudo-psychology is applied, but it is the love and support of his friends and family which allow him to flourish. In particular, its the imagination and compassion of David Copperfield that free Mr Dick from his inner demons and ground him into the present.

Despite the lacklustre narrative of The Personal History of David Copperfield, it is its wonderful characters that bring home its message. Through the comedy of Ianucci we can revel in their flaws and oddities but also understand their vulnerability to poverty and homelessness. Through their charisma and panache we can understand that, despite their less honourable habits, none of them deserve to fight for an existence on the streets or in the slums – infact we are left enraged by those who deliberately inflict such fates on others through greed and corruption. The most gorgeous moments of this film are those in which the characters share what little they have with others, showing the true nobility of the human spirit within the slum classes of Victorian England.

As the world continues to flip flop towards shaky and unstable times in which financial security is becoming a pipe dream for more and more people, it becomes of increasing importance to produce films that directly address the injustice of poverty. Within the highs and lows of The Personal History of David Copperfield, Armando Ianucci validates his place within British Cinema as a writer and director, on the single merit that he is a filmmaker who seems to still care about social issues. He may not have been in top form here, but his voice is one that will gain further appreciation within the British film industry moving forward.

15/24

Pip, the protagonist of the story, is a young orphan who is brought up by his sister and her husband Joe Gargery. His only expectation is to live and work in the forge as a blacksmith. Suddenly, the mysterious figure of Miss Havisham and her adopted daughter Estella enter his life, changing it forever. He will inherit some property and become, unexpectedly, a ‘gentleman’. But, money comes with a price, as it is revealed that the source of Pip’s fortune is not quite what he had imagined it to be.

I was very curious to watch this film, to see how the Dickens story had been adapted for the screen, and I must admit that I liked it very much. Having seen the BBC TV adaptation of 2011, I can easily conclude that this film is much better – the cast, the atmosphere; everything. One of the reasons it appealed to me may be that it was more truthful to the book, though even this version isn’t free from a few deviations from the book.

For example, Estella (Holliday Grainger) gives the impression of returning Pip’s feelings, which is not something clearly stated in the book. I guess the screenwriter (David Nicholls) chose to give the story a particular angle and he interpreted the character of Estella in a more straightforward way than it is in the original story. In fairness, other details are pretty accurate, like the last scene – which is heartbreaking, just as in the book – where the lines quoted are almost exactly the same.

I must add that I liked Holliday Grainger and Jeremy Irvine together – they made a lovely and charming on-screen couple. Speaking of the cast, the performances were all remarkable, but I especially appreciated Miss Havisham as portrayed by Helena Bonham Carter. She was a bit ‘off her head’, and a difficult character to grasp, but she had been obviously hardened by her past experiences and had turned into a lonely, manipulative woman that only wanted to use Estella to get revenge on the male sex in a perverse retaliation for the wrongs committed by her fiancé.

Holliday Grainger’s performance as Estella was very convincing; I could actually picture her in this role, and the little girl who played Estella as a young child had red-hair just like the actress, so although there isn’t a physical description of Estella in the novel, they paid a lot of attention to the details. Holliday Grainger’s insight into the character was gripping and I was very happily surprised.

As for Jeremy Irvine, he was as good of a Pip as Holliday Grainger was a good Estella; as I mentioned before they were suited for each other and shared an undeniable on-screen chemistry. I still think, and I probably always will think, that Jeremy Irvine delivered his best performance in the WW2 drama film The Railway Man (2013) alongside Colin Firth and Nicole Kidman, but this role was one to look out for nevertheless.

I also enjoyed all of Pip and Estella’s scenes, and the friendship between Pip and Herbert (Olly Alexander) –  it was funny and entertaining. I felt they should have been given a little bit more screen time. Ralph Fiennes also deserves a special mention for his portrayal of Abel Magwitch as he truly brought the character to life in every sense. He’s always captivating in all his performances and this was no exception.

As for the more technical aspects, I was intrigued by the opening shots of the marshes, the sequence of the graveyard and Pip’s meeting with Magwitch – all of which set the tone of the story and introduce you immediately to Pip’s world.

The director relies on the visual aspects of the story. An example of this is the portrayal of Miss Havisham’s relatives who are nicknamed the ‘vultures’ and are also quite tellingly dressed in black while hovering around her creepily. Miss Havisham’s bridal attire is also peculiar, in keeping with her description in the novel, and she makes quite an impression on the screen.

All in all, I think this is the best Great Expectations adaptation so far – I’m open to new ones but for now, featuring a cast with the likes of Ralph Fiennes and Helena Bonham Carter, this version of Dickens’s memorable story proves to be more than enjoyable.

18/24