A Christmas Carol (2019) s01e01 Episode Script

1 (WIND WHISTLING) You skinflint old bastard.
(GROWLS) (GRUNTS) (EXCLAIMS) Oh, can they not read? The inscription clearly states "rest in peace".
Why am I not allowed any peace? (BELLS RINGING) (CHILDREN CLAMORING) HOOPER: Well, if I don't see you before Christmas, do have a very merry one.
MAN 2: And you, too.
Oh, we may call after dinner.
HOOPER: Oh, please do.
Bring everyone.
You know you're more than welcome.
- Merry Christmas.
- Mr.
Cratchit? Mr.
Bob? Will you come tomorrow? I'm afraid I can't tomorrow work.
Work, my love? - Tomorrow? - Dad.
- You forgot this.
- I'm not a "this," silly.
No, I didn't forget old Timmy.
I saw he was offering an extra prayer and I let him be.
For our poor cat that died.
Rest in peace.
Rest in peace, my eye.
- He's chasing mice around St.
Peter's feet.
- (LAUGHS) Tomorrow's Christmas Eve.
You promised this year you'd stand up to him.
Come on, Cratchit, it'll be a fine do tomorrow.
Children in charge blind man's buff and all that.
Bring the whole tribe.
- I'm sorry.
I'm afraid - MARY: I'm afraid my husband works for a man with an ice pick for a heart.
Ah, of course, you toil for Old Scratch, don't you? Huh.
My condolences.
Oh, well.
So be it.
Merry Christmas, - Cratchit tribe.
- (CHILDREN CLAMORING) - Excuse me.
- So be it.
Year after year.
Belinda? Come on, you'll get wet and catch your death.
Ooh.
It's nearly Christmas, Mama.
Yes.
- - (HORSE NEIGHING) (INDISTINCT CHATTER) (DOG BARKING) Rag! Rag bone! Any old iron or rag! Rag bone! Any old iron and rag! (CHURCH BELLS RINGING) (BELL TOLLING) Late.
(CLATTERING) One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
There.
Beyond reasonable.
Oh.
The smudge is from the fourth lump.
I have no doubt.
The smudge is from kindness.
(INDISTINCT CHATTER) (BELLS JINGLE) Morning, Mr.
Scrooge.
And Merry Christmas to you, too, Mr.
Scrooge.
I have left an important document to be copied three times before day's end.
One for London, one for Birmingham, one for Manchester.
Three, not four, sir? What? Today appears to be a day for four, not three.
Ah, you mean the extra lump of coal I gave you.
Well, curse the fourth.
Curse gestures.
Just make three copies of the ledger.
And should there be no blots, no smudges, no stains, you may go home.
At 4:00.
Mr.
Scrooge, I-I thought we had agreed that today, on account of the day it is, I could go home at 3:00.
I give you an extra lump of coal then straightaway you want to snip an extra hour off the day three becomes four, four becomes three.
I don't care for your revolutionary mathematics.
This is not Paris.
It's frozen, sir.
What is? My ink.
I'll have to thaw it on the fire.
No, that will waste time.
You can use mine.
Ah, lovely.
A sort of Christmas present, is it, sir? Oh, please.
If it were a Christmas present I would have wrapped it in ribbons and bows to artificially increase your anticipation.
And you would tear it open and gasp and say, "Oh, my lord, a bottle of ink.
This is exactly what I've always wanted.
" And I would shrug and smile and tell you that of all the ink bottles in all the world, this is the one ink bottle I wanted you to have on this most holy and sacred of days.
- (INDISTINCT CHATTER) - Behold.
One day of the year.
They all grin and greet each other when every other day they walk by with their faces in their collars.
You know, it makes me very sad to see all the lies that come as surely as the snow at this time of year.
How many Merry Christmases are meant and how many are lies? To pretend on one day of the year that the human beast is not the human beast.
That it is possible we can all be transformed.
But if it were so if it were possible for so many mortals to look at the calendar and transform from wolf to lamb then why not every day? Instead of one day good, the rest bad, why not have everyone grinning at each other all year and have one day in the year when we're all beasts and we pass each other by? Why not turn it around? Yes, sir.
Yes, you could call that day of beastliness Scrooge Day.
In honor of its inventor.
Yes.
Why not? It would be the one day where everyone is free to tell all those around them exactly what they really think of them.
Well, I think every clerk in England would report for work on that day, sir.
In order that they could tell their employer the awful truth of what is in their hearts.
- Yes.
- Ah.
The truth without ribbons and bows.
What do you say? I say, sir, in all my ten years of working here you've never bothered to explain your philosophy before.
I'm quite flattered, sir, that today of all days you should share the machinery of your great logic with a mere clerk.
It isn't logic, Cratchit.
Well, then, sir, what is it? Mind out for the word "litigation.
" You have a habit of spelling it wrongly.
I spelt it wrongly once.
Five years ago.
MAN (IN DISTANCE): Any old iron and rag! Rag bone! Any old iron and rag! Rag bone! Rag bone! Any old iron and rag! - Every third day.
- Rag bone! Punctual at ten minutes past 7:00 for the past 199 days, with a seven-day hiatus July 4 to 11, when, no doubt, he and his horse were in Margate - or somewhere atrocious.
- Rag bone! - Any old iron and rag! - Two Oh, no ink.
- Any old iron or rag! - Three calls, 15 steps of the horse, five turns of the wheel.
I need a pencil.
WOMAN (IN DISTANCE): Chestnuts! Roasted chestnuts! Oh, what? A new voice? MAN: Any old iron and rag! (INDISTINCT CHATTER) Four calls, 21 steps of the hoof, - nine turns of the wheels.
- Chestnuts! Hot off the coals! Two from the chestnut woman.
Oh, damn it.
(BELL RINGING IN DISTANCE) MAN: Any old iron and rag! Five calls.
- WOMAN: Chestnuts! - 27 steps of the horse, 11 turns of the wheel.
Fresh, new, fresh from Regents Park! - Any old iron or rag! - Three from chestnut woman.
- Five and 27 - (BOTH CONTINUE CLAMORING) eleven rag and bone.
Now please pass by.
- Both of you, please pass by.
- (VOICES AND BELL GROW LOUDER) - (MUTTERING) - (VOICES CONTINUE SOFTLY IN DISTANCE) WOMAN (IN DISTANCE): Chestnuts! Warm chestnuts! Yes.
Ah, that's an eight.
(CONTINUES MUTTERING) CHILDREN (IN DISTANCE): Joy to the world The Lord is come How am I supposed to work - with all this fucking noise? - Let earth receive Her King - Yes, I hear you.
- Let every heart - Four.
- Prepare Him room And heaven and nature sing Five.
Yes? Rag and bone man's passing.
He wants to know if we have any rags or bone or iron.
None.
He is just begging a Christmas box.
(STAMMERS) - Six.
- Sir.
Are you all right? You don't seem yourself today.
Well, I am myself, always.
Please get on with your work.
Repeat the sounding joy - (SCROOGE SIGHS) - Repeat, repeat The sounding joy Far as the curse is found Far as the curse is found Far as, far as The curse is found He rules the world With truth and grace And makes the nations Last night I had a dream of chains and furnaces and And wonders of His love and I realized, when I am alone and I talk out loud it is still you I am talking to.
(CLOCK TICKING) As if you are not completely gone.
But I was at your burial.
And I am rational.
I placed the coins on your eyes.
I I saw your coffin lowered.
So I have no explanation why I speak out loud to you.
(BANGING ON WINDOW) Any old iron and rag! You miserable bastard.
Six rag and bone.
Oh, Jacob.
Imagine, at least where you are, it's quiet.
Oh, fate.
Oh, spirits of life and death.
Whoever is in charge in this ill-begotten universe, I'm begging you to free me from this consciousness.
Let me rest.
Give me darkness.
I know my sins were many, but I have repented and repented and repented.
Tell me what I must do to make amends and I will do it.
Please.
(BELL RINGING LOUDLY) (ELECTRICITY CRACKLING) (SCREAMS) (SHRIEKING) Aah! (GRUNTS) (WHIMPERING) Oh, Lord.
Please tell me this is not hell.
Not quite, pilgrim.
I have money.
Two pennies.
They're yours.
Please, let me go.
I I know you.
Aye.
You do.
I died like a horse of exhaustion in one of your workshops.
So many men, women, and children died at your penny-pinching hands, and each one I've forged into a link in the chain.
The chain you must now wear, Mr.
Marley.
What reason? I've been dead a year.
Why now? You rang the bell.
You offered penance.
And since your call was answered (LAUGHING) I'd wager the spirits have a little job for you.
(LAUGHING) (SCREAMING) (GRUNTS) (WHISPERING, INDISTINCT VOICES) GHOSTLY VOICE (ECHOING): Marley.
Marley.
Marley.
Marley.
(WHISPERING CONTINUES) (HIGH-PITCHED SQUEAL) (GRUNTING) (GRUNTS) (WHISPERING CONTINUES) (CLOCK TICKING) (FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING) Done, Mr.
Scrooge.
Finished.
You already proofed the first two, sir.
Just checking again, Cratchit.
The light grows dim.
I sense you are angry with me.
Why do you say that? Because everything on this page is perfect, precise immaculate, you might say.
You got it all right to spite me, to to show me.
No, sir.
No.
To, uh, to afford you the possibility that-that since all the work is done correctly and early I might leave early and spend the rest of the day with my family.
Your anger made you work quickly but perfectly.
You didn't stop to think that working quickly and perfectly also suits me the object of your hatred down to the ground.
I don't hate you, sir.
(SIGHS) I'm not accustomed to talking about these matters with you.
I ask you again: is everything all right with you? Christmas, it seems, inspires such emotion.
Good and, evidently, bad.
I feel your eyes burning into me.
Imagine you were a violent man.
Imagine your pen were a dagger.
Imagine I were found dead on Christmas morning.
The murder could be laid, too, at the door of the spirit of Christmas, yes? Mr.
Scrooge.
Mr.
Scrooge, it's now eight minutes past 3:00.
My work is complete.
If we're back to logic, then logic suggests that my sitting in there idle for no reason that's the anomaly.
MONGER (IN DISTANCE): Here it is! Where's the great A letter of complaint to the Lord Mayor regarding persistent noise caused by costermongers, Gypsies, street musicians, rag and bone men, various other gutter runners.
I want this letter written out in duplicate and put in with the last post today.
It contains very precise mathematics pertaining to the quantity and frequency of the intrusions.
Please be sure to get the numbers correct.
I took great pains over them.
Oh.
Great pain.
Yes, I can see that.
It is not I in curious mood today, Cratchit, it is you.
As if you're suddenly careless - of your situation.
- No, sir.
No, I'm not careless of my situation, sir.
I know my situation.
I have two children and a wife to take care of at a time of high unemployment.
One of my children is very sick, sir, and his treatment costs money.
I know, sir, I know the narrowness of my situation.
And so do you.
- So do you.
- Two copies of that letter should take you nicely up to 4:00.
We'll see.
MARLEY (IN DISTANCE): Hello? Hello? Why am I here? I was told the spirits have a job for me.
What spirits? What job? (FIRE WHOOSHING, CRACKLING) Ah.
Warmth, at least.
And explanation.
And perhaps salvation.
(HORSE NEIGHS) Oh, God.
Hello, old friend.
(LAUGHS) Six times we won the Epsom Derby together.
GHOSTLY VOICES (ECHOING): Marley.
Marley.
Marley.
Marley.
Marley.
- Marley.
- Marley.
Marley.
- (CHILD LAUGHS IN DISTANCE) - Marley.
Marley.
(GRUNTING) Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello! Hello? Yeah, I saw someone tending this fire.
Where are you? Hello? I'm Aah! (HORSE NEIGHS) I have no idea who you are, but why on earth did you just burn my rocking horse? Because you're next.
On the fires I burn memories and old affections.
I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.
Here to smoke out redemption.
You have lingered in purgatory for your many sins.
If it turns out you can be redeemed, I will rake you out of the flames and blow you cool and deliver you to everlasting and eternal peace.
Understood.
Peace is indeed what I seek.
If you want peace there is a price.
And the price is repentance.
Uh, if this is about repentance, then I've already repented.
I rang the bell.
Rang as a consequence of my declared repentance, and the blacksmith I don't care.
You are not here for your sins alone.
(GHOSTLY VOICES CLAMOR) Your fate is bound to the soul of Ebenezer Scrooge.
It is with him that you profaned the spirit of humanity.
Together, you will repay.
And together and only together can you repent.
So you're saying that I should forever be held in purgatory un until my friend has also repented? (SHARP EXHALE) (MUTTERING) Then, if you would, throw another year on the fire.
Bring me a blanket and a pillow if such things are allowed, because I am without doubt stuck here for fucking ever.
Because that man, that object in the shape of a man, that-that thing with black ink in his veins is 94% gravel and rubble, and the rest is his stupid hair.
And I know for certain that he will never repent.
Before this Christmas is ash, I must search the heart of Ebenezer Scrooge and see if there is a tender place there.
Your fate depends upon it.
(INDISTINCT CLAMORING) - (DOOR OPENS, BELL JINGLES) - FRED: Afternoon.
Uncle Ebenezer.
(PANTING) I ran in case you might be closing early.
No.
Still many things to do.
You seem out of breath.
That's 'cause I ran to catch you.
And to invite you to dinner tomorrow.
Oh.
What's tomorrow? It's a birthday tomorrow.
It's, uh our Lord Jesus Christ's birthday.
Now, I know you don't believe in Christmas.
But you believe in him, don't you? No.
Nor do I believe in Ali Baba or the magic genie of the lamp.
Besides, which liar told you that tomorrow was his birthday? It's in the Bible.
Another deceit.
There is no mention of a date in that book or in any other.
And as for those images I see on church walls of three wise men on camels walking in the snow, there's no record of it being winter, and no record of there ever being snow in Palestine.
Indeed, riding camels in the snow is the very embodiment of the absurdity and the lies which have continued to beget more lies down the centuries, during the days now marked 24 and 25.
You believe in fig pudding.
And there will be fig pudding.
And there will be fig pudding, too, in January.
Would you come in January? No.
(INDISTINCT CHATTER, CHILDREN SHOUT) Uncle, before she died, my mother said to me, "Fred " you must forgive my brother Ebenezer.
"He's just in pain.
A very old pain.
" Very well.
I'll get to my point.
Every year, I come here, and I invite you to dine with myself and my wife and my children whom you've never even set eyes upon.
This is the last time I'll make such an invitation.
Upon my wife's insistence, I will do this no more.
Good.
Save you getting all out of breath.
Uncle.
Yeah, I will say it because I know it hurts you.
Merry Christmas, Uncle Ebenezer.
I doubt I'll ever see you again on this earth.
(DOOR OPENS, BELL JINGLES) (DOOR CLOSES) MARLEY (IN DISTANCE): Ebenezer.
Ebenezer.
(WIND GUSTS) (WATER SPLASHES) 1831 and 1837.
The exact same dates as the coins I put on your eyes when you lay in your coffin.
I always look at the dates.
They interest me.
How come these same coins are here? Why now? (COINS THUD) CHILDREN: When they are both full-grown Of all trees that are in the wood The holly bears the crown Oh, the rising of the sun And the running of the deer The playing of Do you want me to add them to your list of intrusive voices, sir? The holly bears a blossom As white as lily flower Do it, Mr.
Scrooge.
Give them the coins.
To be our dear Savior.
Merry Christmas, sir.
Go away.
Done, sir.
Finished.
40 minutes left.
I assume you have something else for me to fill the time.
Go home.
- Home? - Home.
(SIGHS) Rag and bone.
All it is and can be.
(PAPER RUSTLING) (CLOCK TICKING) Clock.
I know it's 20 past 3:00, but please strike 4:00.
How? I don't know.
I will not leave my office early and bow down to this absurd season.
But please say it's 4:00 and set me free.
Lie to me, and I'll believe you.
(CLOCK CHIMING) (BELL TOLLING) - - (LAUGHTER, INDISTINCT CHATTER) (CHILDREN LAUGHING) Hands two! (LAUGHING) (CHATTER, MUSIC CONTINUE IN DISTANCE) - Dad? - Mm-hmm? Do I have to do my exercise today? I-It's Christmas Eve.
No days off, Tim.
You're worse than old Scrooge.
(LAUGHS) If it's exercise you want me to do, why not let me go skating on the pond beyond the yard? - I can borrow Belinda's skates.
- Ah.
So you skate before you can walk before you can run.
Besides, Belinda's skates are broken.
- (DOOR OPENS) - (MARY CHUCKLES) - Hi, darling.
- (SIGHS) - What did you get? - We got a big fat goose.
Wait, wait, wait.
Two more minutes.
Mwah.
Grumpy Daddy.
- (CHUCKLING) - Yeah.
Hey.
When did you get home? Bugger let me go about 40 minutes early.
- Very strange mood.
- It's Christmas.
Let's not talk about him.
Not even once.
You seem to despise him even more than I do.
(DOOR OPENS) (DOOR CLOSES) Also, while you were while you were gone, Tim wrote his Christmas letter to your cousin Jack.
(SNIFFS) Here's what he wrote.
"Dear Mr.
Levitt, I hope you're well and that there's lots of snow there in America " Darling, after seven years there's no need for Tim to keep on writing letters of thanks to America every single Christmas for eternity.
And why? He did save Tim's life.
Um (SIGHS) Very well.
I'll go and post it.
I'll catch the last post.
We'll, um We'll all come with you.
Uh, the air will do us all some good.
Very well.
We'll all go.
Tim.
- Yes! - (CHUCKLES) Belinda.
("I SAW THREE SHIPS" PLAYING) (INDISTINCT CHATTER) HOOPER: Ah, Mr.
Scrooge.
Sir, do you have any spare change for an excellent cause? (SIGHS) And what cause might that be? Oh, it's for the welfare of the poor and destitute who suffer greatly at this time of year.
Hundreds of thousands in this city are in want of common comforts.
Are there no prisons? - Oh, plenty of prisons.
- And the Union workhouses are they still in operation? THWAITES: I wish I could say they were not.
The treadmill and the poor law.
Uncommonly busy since the financial collapse.
But some would rather die than go there.
Then let them die.
HOOPER: All we're asking for, sir, are a couple of penny coins.
Do you not have two penny coins in your pocket? Bah.
Humbug.
(INDISTINCT CHATTER, CHEERING, LAUGHING) Thank you.
- GIRL: Whoa! - GIRL 2: Belinda! Now, I'm not sure if we've spelt your cousin's name correctly.
Mary, is it is it Levitt with two Ts or one? It it's spelt with two Ts.
- You all right? - Mm-hmm.
- There's Belinda.
- Oh.
You needs skates, eh? BOB: I swear last year you said it was spelt with one "T.
" My cousin is now an American.
They don't care for Ts.
They drink coffee.
(LAUGHS SOFTLY) MAN: Merry Christmas.
- Oh, Merry Christmas.
- Merry Christmas.
This cousin whose name changes every year, you never mentioned before Tim became sick.
The children are happy here.
Stay with them.
I'll post the letter and I'll come back.
- You all right, mister? - Yeah.
(EXHALES) (DOG BARKS IN DISTANCE) (HORSE WHINNIES) Who left you here? (WHISPERING IN DISTANCE) - (GASPS) - (HORSE NEIGHS) (GATE SQUEAKS) Marley? (KEYS JINGLING) (LOCK CLICKS) (FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING) (FIRE CRACKLING) (THUMP IN DISTANCE) (DOOR CREAKS) (PLATE CLATTERS SOFTLY) (HORSE WHINNIES) (WHISPER IN DISTANCE) (LOCK CLICKS) (GRUNTING) (THREE LOUD THUMPS) (CLOCK TICKING) (CREAK) (FLOORBOARDS CREAKING) (WIND WHISTLING) (GURGLING NEARBY) (BONES CRACK) Apologies, old friend.
I'm not quite sure how these things work.
I first formed as your door knocker, and you knocked off my chin.
Seems fine now.
I understand this must come as a shock.
No.
No, because this-this is not real.
This is not real.
(GRUNTS) There's much I have to tell you about what is real and what is not real.
Reality's a decision.
I've learned that.
I've been sent by a spirit.
A spirit who doesn't care, and I imagine would relish our failure, but is obliged to seem to try to help.
I didn't eat today.
This is the result of light-headedness caused by hunger.
I am asleep in this armchair.
Have you forgotten, Ebenezer? I'm already dead.
You can't kill me.
And if you were to hit me with that thing then I'll just be very messy for the rest of our conversation.
And we have much to discuss.
(POKER CLATTERS) Now, I don't understand it all, but you threw a blanket over a pair of cold, black horses I believe that means there is hope.
Hope of what? No need for me to explain.
You'll meet them soon enough.
Meet who? The spirits.
I've met one, but I'm told there are three.
I have no plans to meet anyone.
I'm I-I want to be alone.
And yet it is Christmas, Ebenezer.
Christmas.
Very well.
Go out there.
(LOUD EXPLOSION) They've laid on a little show for you.
- (INDISTINCT SHOUTING) - (NEIGHS) (BELL CLANGING) (SCREAMING) (NEIGHING) (COUGHING) (WAILING, CRYING) (WOMAN SCREAMING) It was you.
Gas was reported.
To save money, you refused to dig out the pipes.
- You did this.
You.
- (SCREAMING) You cut us to the bone.
(WOMAN SHRIEKING) MARLEY: Remember Morris and Thompson? Our factory in Birmingham which we purchased for pennies, and we cut their cloth according to our meanness.
The consequences of one's actions always ends up on one's own doorstep.
How righteous and scolding we were at the inquest.
Remember? Idleness, drunkenness, a lack of common sense on the part of the workforce we blamed them all and got the all clear from a judge whose palm I crossed with silver.
Look at these chains, Ebenezer.
This isn't a fucking game.
Look.
Each link is a man or woman or child who died in our workshops in London, Birmingham, Manchester, - Bombay, Batavia - Wait.
Wait.
- They were subcontracts.
- Mauritius, - Bay of Honduras - Enough.
No, it was never enough.
Not for you or for me.
And for what? What was the purpose of our gross accumulation? For this we vandalized the world.
Whatever you are, I should like you to leave my home, now.
Oh, when your time comes, there'll be chains for you, too.
And your fate will be to wander the earth with the great weight of your past on your shoulders.
Unless I repent, yes? "Humbug," I will say.
"Repent what?," I will say.
The spirit I met has no concern for your soul.
Or mine.
I want salvation.
But in truth, it is up to you.
Bah.
Ebenezer Scrooge, the first of three spirits will come tonight when the clock strikes midnight.
The next will come the next night at the same hour.
And the third will come the following night.
Also at midnight.
Prepare ye.
A reality so readily banished is not much of a reality.
A piece of undigested beef.
A lump of uncooked potato.
Humbug! (CLOCK BELL TOLLING) Two.
(TOLLING CONTINUES) (TOWER BELL TOLLING IN DISTANCE) (BELLS TOLLING) (CLOCK BELL CONTINUES TOLLING) Nine.
Ten.
Eleven.
(TOLLING STOPS) One hour to go.
Then it will begin.
Reason against fancy.
We will know the winner by morning.