The techniques are pretty creaky, standard for 1935. There are no sweeping camera movements; the special effects are minimal; and the acting by Seymour Hicks as Scrooge is theatrical. He has John Gielgud's quavering voice.
Yet it's hard not to be swept up and moved by Dickens' fairy tale. The author played his readers as if they were a gigantic calliope, pulling out stops here and there, pumping away with his feet, and producing this enthralling melody that takes us from selfishness and greed to epiphany and redemption.
It's not as good as the Alistair Sims version, which is superlative, but it's effective in its own, old-fashioned right. Probably a lot of the difference is due to performers and crew feeling more comfortable with the technology of movie-making in the 1950s than in 1935. In the 50s version, Sims never overacts as Hicks does here. Sims knew he didn't have to, that the camera would pick up the slightest nuance in dialog or expression.
But this version, crude as it is, is no disgrace.
Yet it's hard not to be swept up and moved by Dickens' fairy tale. The author played his readers as if they were a gigantic calliope, pulling out stops here and there, pumping away with his feet, and producing this enthralling melody that takes us from selfishness and greed to epiphany and redemption.
It's not as good as the Alistair Sims version, which is superlative, but it's effective in its own, old-fashioned right. Probably a lot of the difference is due to performers and crew feeling more comfortable with the technology of movie-making in the 1950s than in 1935. In the 50s version, Sims never overacts as Hicks does here. Sims knew he didn't have to, that the camera would pick up the slightest nuance in dialog or expression.
But this version, crude as it is, is no disgrace.