For many, this is officially the most wonderful week of the year. After heavy anticipation for weeks (and even months), Christmas is officially here. The day when everyone comes together, even if over Zoom calls, to remember what makes life more significant. Oh sure, it’s great to get these amazing presents from Santa, but those will fade with time. In a perfect year, there’s plenty to be had from gathering with family to recognize the value we bring to each other. Even small traditions become fond memories, creating warm anticipation.
For my family, in particular, there has been one constant since we were children. On Christmas Eve, we would have dinner and finish the night by watching The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992). To be completely honest, I am not entirely sure why my parents started it. The only real reason that I can come up with is that it was a fun family movie that had a pretty great hook. It was a retelling of Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol,” but with Muppets singing lines likes “After all, there’s only one more sleep ‘til Christmas.”
By this point, it’s more of an excuse for all of us to get lost in the background detail. As great as the story is, with Michael Caine delivering my favorite Ebeneezer Scrooge performance, it’s more interesting to get lost in the small jokes. It’s especially true in the opening number “Scrooge,” where an ensemble of Muppets sings in varying harmonies. My favorite is when the choir sings about his humanity (“Look close and there must be a sweet man inside”) and there is this offhand note of rejection when someone says, off-key, “neh-eh.”
I understand that there are reasons to suggest that this isn’t the most faithful version of the Dickens classic. I for one cannot comment on the accuracy, but I tend to agree with this Bright Wall/Dark Room article that lays out the many reasons it works best on a narrative level. With Gonzo playing Dickens, the story plays into the familiar brand of Jim Henson’s fourth-wall breaking approach to storytelling. Every noteworthy Muppet gets a major role in the story. Kermit plays Bob Cratchit and Miss Piggy Mrs. Cratchit. Everyone hits the familiar notes that you’d expect from this narrative.
On some level, there’s no overcoming the fact that this is a sentimental favorite. I know most of the beats by memory. With exception to maybe The Muppet Movie (1979), this is the only Muppet story I revisit with any regularity. It has this way of making even the darkest moments (and the third act does get that way) feel balanced with enough safety that it doesn’t outright traumatize the younger viewers. Dickens will pop up to provide small quips, informing audiences how to feel at this point in the story. There is no point where it’s designed as pandering, instead feeling like this grand adventure.
It’s also a fun deconstruction of storytelling in classic literature. I’m sure that there’s a generation of writers who learned about narrator omniscience from this movie. Dickens as a character is one of the few characters who has the ability to break free from the fiction and talk directly to the camera, playing up the idea that he knows the story on a fundamental level. At one point his partner Rizzo doesn’t believe he’s telling the story correctly. To prove him wrong, Dickens proceeds to talk about a light being lit inside the house behind them. As Rizzo says “How does he do that?” it creates just enough lightness for the moment ahead, where Scrooge is first met by The Marley Brothers and introduced to his horrifying past.
That is what’s brilliant about the story. It’s more than catchy songs. It’s how much it respects the narrative even when trying to make it funny. Sure, there have been other adaptations that mix light and dark tones, but I don’t know that there’s one that feels this diverse, where it can tackle the narrative with boomerang fish and penguin skating parties. There’s still something magical about how The Muppets walk across the sets, feeling as real as any of the actual actors. Puppetry in general is a dying art form, and it shines through in moments like when Bob is walking with his son, full profile, singing a cheery song. In lighter moments, it even adds humor to the otherwise morbid scene of Rizzo trying to survive landing on a flaming hot goose.
Also, there is something relieving about having Muppets play these roles. Kermit has always had this capability to be a deeply sad character without it being pitiful. It could just be the idea of a frog having this existential crisis. The fact that he’s in love with a pig is absurd, though you come to sympathize with him because he’s just like us. In this case, he plays a lower-class father working hard to put food on the table, making every huff and grunt feel more earned. He’s capable of being seen as this bright figure one minute and a tragic one the next. Maybe it’s just that puppets are expressive in different ways, but you can laugh because it’s cartoonish.
I think this is most evident in the first act. Following “Scrooge,” Dickens introduces the audience to day-to-day life. Scrooge is bombarded by money-lenders while Bob works effortlessly with his rat clerks to cover finances. He seems impish in Scrooge’s presence, having one of the few dramatic roles in this scene. Most supporting players are set-ups for punchlines designed to make Scrooge seem more begrudging. It’s the insecurity of this man with power destroying their flimsy financial stability. Even within the structure of a scene, the audience knows of Scrooge’s power as well as his loneliness, sitting at a desk behind a dimly lit room.
The film was released in the wake of Jim Henson’s passing. Over several decades, he helped to create a new appreciation for puppetry in entertainment. With The Muppets, he created this perfect pop culture moment where puppets were allowed to be morally complex, taking their own personal spin on the world around them. Who didn’t have fun watching them sing songs with celebrities on The Muppet Show? Who didn’t feel the slightest bit melancholic when Kermit sang “The Rainbow Connection”? There’s a lot more to why his legacy will continue to be appreciated by creative artists, but it does feel like the crux for this.
The film was directed by his son, Brian Henson. I cannot speak to how involved he was in his father’s work prior, but it becomes abundantly clear that there’s affection. There is an effort to make his own spin on this franchise by tackling a beloved favorite. With the familiar gang of voice actors in tow (Frank Oz, Dave Goelz, Steve Whitmer, and more), the film has an incredible set design that makes this work of coexisting humans and Muppets feel plausible. The architecture feels like a perfect middle-ground, where the doors aren’t too small for humans, but the tables aren’t too big for Muppets. One of the most underrated aspects of this film is the production design which uses warped perspective so well that it hardly becomes noticeable.
There’s also the music, which was written by Paul Williams. As far as movie musicals go, it does a great job of advancing the story while giving these memorable tunes. “It Feels Like Christmas” is a jubilant tune that manages to capture generosity and inspire dancing. The way that Williams allows for ensemble numbers, shifting vocals every few lines, also makes it feel more like a community coming together. It captures the spirit that the film is going for, even featuring a quiet moment of peaceful reflection in “Bless Us All.”
Though what helps to make these stronger is that Henson directs every number with this clever sense of humor. For the bigger songs, he allows for some characters to have their own brief struggle (comedy beats) while others will spin and dance with joy. In “It Feels Like Christmas,” there’s plenty of great small moments that range from Muppet horses dancing to a series of human back-up dancers twirling in a circle. There’s so much wonderfulness here that it helps to balance Scrooge’s ongoing struggle which, at its core, is a bit of a tragic story.
One of the strangest controversies about this film is the song “When Love is Gone.” Growing up, I had a VHS that had the song firmly placed after Fozziwig’s party. It always made sense. When I learned that later versions (including the current Disney+ one) were missing, I felt a bit confused. Sure, it was a slower song and maybe the saddest in the bunch. However, I’d make the argument that the rest of the film lacks deeper meaning without it there. This version will cut through an unspectacular break-up scene with Scrooge’s girlfriend Belle, finding an unearned moment of sadness that has no build-up.
The point of this song is the heart of the film. As much as one can argue that Scrooge’s love of money is what made him socially isolated, I think Belle holds more answers. While she’s only on screen for minutes, it conveys Scrooge’s idea of love. While he has affection, it’s paralleled by his love of being a young businessman. He must choose between the two and decides, quite tragically, the one that can’t reciprocate actual feelings. It’s only through song that Belle begins to feel like something more, that she gets to express these regrets that Young Scrooge didn’t notice at the time. As Old Scrooge watches on, he notices his flaws for the first time.
Also, it’s a bit egregious to take this out because of how it plays into the finale. “When Love is Gone” is the catalyst for this whole story, and Scrooge must learn to find it. In the closing scene, he is joined by an ensemble singing the motif, this time worded “When Love Is Found.” It’s a cheery ending on its own, but it doesn’t reflect growth without the first, showing that he has some aspect of redemption. He’s grown from the mistakes of his past, and it comes in mixing up this song, his own personal deeper perspective.
I can only hope that rumors of them adding the song back in are true. While some would argue it’s boring or sad, it’s the only reason why the rest works. Still, what’s more incredible is how Henson has created this movie that’s allowed to be a creative reworking of a classic while allowing for joy and sadness. It understands Scrooge on a deeper level, doing more than recounting the beats that just about everyone else has. There are jokes and slapstick, but it doesn’t take away from the story. Instead, it builds atmosphere and helps to create an interpretation of the story that is alive with intent. Even the narration is fun, making you more likely to remember everything that happens.
I’m aware that everyone has their own holiday traditions. This one has been my family’s for over 25 years, and I hope that it continues for decades to come. While I think that one can argue that the rest of The Muppets’ cinematic output is all over the place this is one of those moments where they proved what made them special. They weren’t just retelling a story for a cheap cash-in. Instead, it was using their own vivid accomplishments to make it more artful, telling it in a way that strictly live-action couldn’t. With the small divides from reality, it enhances what’s great about Dickens and The Muppets. Together they make something special, worth remembering and putting on every year.
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