A Christmas Carol (1984) – Disability
Merry (almost) Christmas, darlings!
I am officially a Doctor of Christmas for the most part, so this is the season when I am at my busiest and most powerful. As we did last year and likely will next, December reviews will all be Christmassy movies, a little shorter, and more informal than my other reviews, but hopefully not a bit less thoughtful. For our first of such Christmassy magic, my husband and I kicked off the season with his favourite version of the Dickensian classic: Clive Donner’s made-for-TV A Christmas Carol (1984) starring George C. Scott as Scrooge.
I had never seen this version prior, but I loved it and see why so many prize it as up there with the Dickensian masterpieces It’s a Wonderful Life (1946) and The Muppets Christmas Carol (1992). Donner’s expands the story just a bit to truly emphasise the pains of poverty and Scott’s performance is the most human portrayal of Scrooge I think I’ve ever seen. The Review Roulette wheel landed on Disability for our approach this week, so let’s think about those embellishments on the story.
One might think we’d take the obvious approach of talking about Tiny Tim here, but that one wouldn’t be one of my readers. Never take the obvious answer. So instead, I want to talk about disability theoretically and Scrooge as an agent of a disabling society.
In some disability theory, there is the idea that individuals are not disabled, rather society disables them. That’s not just a semantic difference; it returns agency to the individual and places a challenge on society to fix its shit. As someone whose health and mobility fluctuates quite a bit due to chronic illnesses, reframing my own mentality in this way has been super helpful for not feeling like I am failing for not meeting the expectations of a society built for an able-bodied, middle class, 6-foot-tall white man.
So, we have this theory that society is exclusive: only some people get to participate from the starting line ready to go while others have to catch up to the starting line when the race begins; structural obstacles are placed in their way so that they first have to secure mobility aids to traverse the track as opposed to having a track that is equitably accessible from the jump. Those mobility aids might be physical, social, or economic.
Let’s focus on that last one. Poverty is disabling, especially literally in a system in which healthcare is a premium only the rich can afford. Whereas in most versions of A Christmas Carol Tiny Tim is implied to be curable with proper care, Donner’s Carol goes out of its way to say multiple times that the only reason that boy is ill and would most certainly die in Christmas present without intervention is that the Cratchits are poor. This version takes an already on the nose story about the social and moral failings of a society that allows its children to starve and all but stares directly into the camera like a Kubrick character in The Office.
In another excellent scene pressing the social mirror hard into the audience’s faces, Christmas Present brings Scrooge to an archway under a railway. Huddled around a fire is a small family with others in the background. Scrooge questions why these people would be there, echoing his earlier line about how there are institutions in place for the destitute. This is one of the places where Scott’s Scrooge stands apart from almost all others as a real human and not just a caricature of immorality: Christmas Present asks him if he’s ever visited those institutions, to which Scrooge says disgustedly “no. I’m taxed for them, isn’t that enough?” Christmas Present replies, “is it?” and Scrooge visibly takes that under consideration. He is not just scared straight in this version; we see the cogs start to turn when he realises how complicit in human misery he is.
That question of taxes comes up a few times in this version which I think (especially in Reagan’s America) is a perfect read of the Carol for modern America. I am of the firm belief that if the government did its job, charity wouldn’t be necessary, and if Scrooge were properly taxed, that homeless family and Tiny Tim wouldn’t be suffering from state-sanctioned violence in the form of relentless poverty. The father of that family under the bridge is pained at the thought that he is moments away from being morally broken, being forced to steal food or watch his children and wife die a horrible death. He is shattered at the thought of having to choose between them and society’s morals (and legality) against stealing which would put not only his life on the line but also the idea of himself as a provider and protector into jeopardy. This scene forces the message that “disabling” can be so many layers of physical, mental, moral, emotional, economic, etc. and a lot of those layers would be 100% gone or easier to handle with societal intervention either by changing the structures of society to be more inclusive or by giving the impoverished money to navigate the structures currently in place. And in order to do that latter one, taxes need to be appropriately levied and distributed.
Including this scene under the bridge is also a really affecting touch because, so much of the time, society tries to hide its blights (see Reagan’s 1984 re-election ad “Morning in America” as the mic drop of this review). Christmas Present says that the name of this place would mean nothing to Scrooge but it’s “a place like many in this world”. Between this heavy sentiment and Scrooge admitting he’s never been to one of the institutions he’s taxed for, we’re reminded that so often pain and suffering are overlooked or hidden away from “proper” society under a bridge or off in workhouses or in areas of cities rich people would never dare go. Scrooge tells Tiny Tim off for standing on the corner waiting for his dad to finish work, assuming he is a homeless, disabled child and that he must be sent out of sight. The confrontation of Scrooge’s selfishness and hoarding of resources is always the point of A Christmas Carol, but I really think that this version does it in the most effective way.
Scott’s Scrooge is a real person. You can actually imagine him interacting with others the way he laughs through his cruelty and humanises his more egregiously evil sentiments such as “If they would rather die [than be in a workhouse], they had better do it and decrease the surplus population.” And then when a homeless mother says to her husband under the bridge “I would rather we all drown in the river than go to one of those places and be separated forever”, you can see the regret physically on his face as he realises what those words actually mean for real, living people in front of him. Most iterations of Scrooge have a like 80/20 balance of changing for self-interest over societal interest. Tiny Tim is often a microcosmic exemplar of society’s problems as a visually, physically disabled child, and because Scrooge has taken a vested interest in helping the boy to live, he changes his ways. Scott’s Scrooge is metaphorically pile-drived with examples of how his own words and actions have immense consequences for society widely, showing him how exactly he is an agent of a disabling society that breaks individuals’ spirits as well as bodies.
It’s so good. If you have not had the pleasure of being beaten senseless with Donner and Scott’s social mirror, please have a watch (available in full on YouTube).