Minimalist Moments: The Muppet Christmas Carol

There’s a lot to praise about the Muppets adaptation of Dicken’s yuletide tale of humbugs, ghosts and redemption. This includes one of Michael Caine’s finest performances and great tunes filled with plenty of lyrical ingenuity (‘Cheeses for us meezes’? Fewer nonsensical rhymes have made such comedic impact). The filmmakers do a great job of employing light-hearted storytelling which incorporates much of the author’s original text. They’re also particularly astute in the quieter moments, particularly during the scenes where Scrooge meets the Ghost of Christmas Past. 

The ghost itself is pretty creepy for a children’s movie, but it’s the scene where Scrooge is shown the mournful house of Bob Cratchit that has the biggest emotional gut punch. A tearful Emily Cratchit tries in vain to hide her tears from daughters Belinda and Betina, while son Peter notes how his father has been walking slower the past couple of days, all while Scrooge slowly pieces together that Tiny Tim has passed away. While Bob gives his family a rousing speech about the sad but inevitable reality of death and remembrance, it’s the following image of Tiny Tim’s empty chair that hits particularly hard. 

No words are spoken in this moment, and it’s just the sad music that accompanies this tragic image. Considering that this was the first Muppets film produced since the death of creator Jim Henson and the performer Richard Hunt, this scene also carries a heavy emotional weight. And it’s a testament to the voice acting and puppetry itself that such emotion can be created from these inanimate figures of fleece. 

But don’t worry. As the Great Gonzo version of Charles Dickens later informs us, Tiny Tim did not die thanks to Scrooge’s redemption. But that scene still hurts when I watch it every Christmas, which is a sign of a darn fine Christmas film. If you haven’t got this on your compulsory Christmas watchlist, get it on there.