The Man Who Invented Christmas, by Albert W. Vogt III

My dander got slightly up in seeing the title for The Man Who Invented Christmas (2017).  By the way, that is a period appropriate expression.  Anyway, on the surface of it, those are words that should anger any practicing Catholic or Christian.  Put simply, Charles Dickens (Dan Stevens) did not come up with the idea of Christmas.  Early on, I was feeling a little perturbed in its suggestion that few people in mid-nineteenth century England cared about the holiday.  The birth of Jesus has enjoyed a central place in the Catholic Faith from the beginning.  Then again, this was a point in history that we original Christians were considered second class citizens in the United Kingdom.  In other words, the most famous author of his day would probably not have taken note of this fringe part of society, though this is not being entirely fair to Charlie, as he is referred to in the film.  And while it had a further annoyance in not mentioning the originator of Christmas, my desire with this review is to explain why this is a quality Christmas movie that I would watch again if called upon to do so.

The first thing to know about The Man Who Invented Christmas is that he is famous, enjoying the kind of notoriety that got him a book tour on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean.  This is where we open, appearing before a raucous American crowd.  Charlie had a strained relationship with Americans as underscored by his desire to get back to London as soon as possible.  Despite doing things never done by an author, he is beginning to face some financial troubles.  His last three books had been “flops,” as the movie labels them, but his ever-growing family continues in an upward trajectory in society is evidenced by the expensive updates being done to their home.  There are also the many charitable donations he gives, for which he had a well-deserved reputation.  The money issues are presented to him by his friend John Forster (Justin Edwards), who accompanies him to his publishers looking for any money that might have been earned from book sales.  Instead, Charlie has to borrow funds.  He gets much of the same story from Haddock (Donald Sumpter), Charlie’s lawyer, who is able to report a favorable lawsuit settlement in Charlie’s favor for a sum of £2,200, a considerable windfall in 1843.  The problem is that the defendant is penniless and Charlie gets nothing, having to once more take out a loan.  The situation is exacerbated when Charlie’s father, John Dickens (Jonathan Pryce), comes to stay with his son’s family.  John had been a kind parent, but a bit of a charlatan, at one point ending up in debtor’s prison (this was a thing, and it is exactly what it sounds like), which forces a young Charles Dickens (Ely Solan) to have to go to work in a boot blacking factory at the age of eleven.  In short, Charlie needs to do something to improve his situation, and since he is a renowned writer, a new book is the answer.  Unfortunately, he currently has no new ideas, and his steadily filling up home is proving to be full of distractions.  It is in dealing with his family and house guests, and going about the busy streets of London, that he gathers the inspiration for what will be arguably his most famous work, A Christmas Carol (1843).  Immediately, his publishers point out a number of difficulties.  The first is that nobody cares about the holiday, therefore basing a story on it does not make sense.  The second is that there is a little more than six weeks until that day.  He proposes to have it ready by then, but the publishers say that is impossible.  In response, he says he will do it all on his own, which means spending more money that he does not possess.  Undeterred, he gets to work, and the initial phase of his creative process is to come up with the characters.  In sounding out the main one, he eventually arrives at Ebenezer Scrooge (Christopher Plummer), and he materializes as a person in his study.  Throughout, Charlie and Ebenezer carry on a conversation as the author comes up with this familiar tale.  Indeed, the two become linked, and as the film unfolds you see how much the writer comes to mirror his art.  Much of Charlie’s struggles with it stem from his contentious relationship with John.  When John’s promise of writing a newspaper article to bring in funds for him and Charlie’s mother, Elizabeth Dickens (Ger Ryan), proves to be a lie, Charlie angrily demands that his father leaves.  Later, Charlie discovers John digging in the Dickens’ refuse looking for his son’s signature on bits of paper to sell, which further strains the relationship.  He then fires the maid Tara (Anna Murphy) in another outburst, who had given him the idea for the spirits and listened to early drafts of the book.  She had also, along with Forster, not been happy with Charlie’s decision to kill Tiny Tim Cratchit (Pearse Kearney).  This indicates the last issue Charlie is having, and that is how to end his new book.  It comes down to having it out with Ebenezer in the ruins of the boot blacking factory that had been so traumatizing for Charlie as a boy.  Through all their interactions, it had been clear that Charlie had been becoming more like Ebenezer, being friendless because the world is not to be trusted.  In this grim setting, he is about to put Ebenezer to death, seeing the old man in a grave that echoes the climactic moment in A Christmas Carol.  With the hole closing around him, Ebenezer begs that he can change.  Charlie realizes the truth of this for himself, and runs off renewed with hope.  He also has his ending, and gets it to the necessary people in time.  Before we close, he makes amends with Tara and his parents, and they are all on hand to celebrate Christmas in the Dickens’ parlor.

There are a lot of great lines in The Man Who Invented Christmas that speak to the heart of the holiday, even if the title is an untrue statement and the movie does not mention Jesus’ birth.  Given the quality of the lessons to be gleaned from it, I am grudgingly willing to give it a pass for these mistakes.  In a general sense, it highlights that Christmas is a season of hope.  This was perfectly symbolized in the coming of Jesus.  It is interesting to note that Dickens was only Christian because of birth, and did not care for public declarations of faith.  He also disliked Catholics.  This makes the success he garnered from Christmas puzzling, unless we are saying that it is his fault that we do not connect anymore God with the holiday.  Yet, the film gets it absolutely correct in two places in talking about this season.  In one scene, Charlie says that it ought to be a time of the year when men and women open their shuttered hearts and think of the people below them as if they were fellow passengers to the grave.  That is a near quote, by the way, so please excuse some of the language.  This evokes the gifts that are brought to Jesus as he lay in the manger, items fit for the King of Hope amidst the lowly circumstances of His birth.  Another great line, and one repeated by Charlie as handed on to him by his father, is how no one is useless in this world who lightens the burden of another.  Again, it comes back to hope.  Somebody who is weighed down by worry, as many are before they allow Jesus into their hearts, does not have hope.  Finally, I particularly like when Charlie talks about Christmas being a period when our better natures prevail.  Without God, there is not such thing as a “better nature” this time of year, and the day becomes a commercial transaction.

My favorite aspect of The Man Who Invented Christmas relates to that notion of better natures prevailing.  My prayer for you, for this Christmas season and always, is that you can change, as Ebenezer does.  Many of us are much closer to the older miser in our nature than we care to admit.  This Christmas, accept the true origin of the holiday in Jesus’ birth and see what it does for you.  Watching this movie might not help with that specifically, but it can be a good start.

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