If you turn on the television during the month of December, you are almost guaranteed to run into a grumpy old man in a nightcap. It’s a tradition. But while most people argue about whether Alastair Sim or George C. Scott is the definitive Ebenezer Scrooge, there is a massive, often overlooked piece of cinematic history sitting right in the middle of the Golden Age of Hollywood. I’m talking about the 1938 MGM production of Reginald Owen Christmas Carol.
It’s a weird one. Honestly, the story of how it even got made is just as frantic as Scrooge’s flight with the Ghost of Christmas Past.
Originally, MGM didn't even want Reginald Owen. They wanted Lionel Barrymore. Barrymore was the voice of Scrooge on the radio for years, and he was the logical choice to bring the character to the big screen. But life happened. Barrymore was struggling with severe arthritis—which eventually confined him to a wheelchair—and he had to pull out of the production. MGM was in a panic. They had the sets, they had the costumes, and they had a release date looming like a deadline from Marley himself.
Enter Reginald Owen. He was a character actor, a reliable pro who had already played Mrs. Hudson in a Sherlock Holmes flick and would later show up in Mary Poppins. He stepped into the nightshirt with only days to prepare.
The "Family Friendly" Victorian London
One thing you notice immediately about the Reginald Owen Christmas Carol is that it feels very... MGM. If you know anything about 1930s studio systems, you know they loved a certain sheen. This isn't the gritty, soot-covered London of the 1951 version. It’s a bit more sanitized. It’s bright.
The film was directed by Edwin L. Marin, and he clearly had orders to make this a family affair. It’s short—running just about 69 minutes. Because of that runtime, the movie moves at a breakneck pace. There’s no time for Scrooge to wallow in his misery for twenty minutes. We get the "Humbugs" out of the way, and we are off to the races.
Interestingly, the movie makes some massive departures from Charles Dickens’ original text. For one, the character of Fred (Scrooge’s nephew) gets a lot more screen time. They even give him a fiancée, Bess, played by Lynne Carver. In the book, Fred is already married, but MGM decided they needed a little youthful romance to keep the audience engaged.
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Then there’s the Cratchit family. Gene Lockhart played Bob Cratchit, and his real-life wife, Kathleen Lockhart, played Mrs. Cratchit. To make it even more of a family reunion, their daughter, June Lockhart, made her screen debut as one of the Cratchit daughters. You can feel that real-life chemistry on screen. When they are eating that tiny goose, the warmth feels genuine, not just acted.
Why Reginald Owen’s Scrooge is Different
Owen gets a lot of flak for his portrayal. Some critics say he’s too "pantomime." And yeah, he’s wearing a lot of putty on his nose. He looks a bit like a caricature. But if you look closer, there’s something interesting happening.
Owen’s Scrooge isn't just mean; he’s almost confused by the world’s happiness. Most Scrooges are depicted as cold, calculating misers. Owen plays him with a sort of frantic, high-pitched irritability. He isn't a silent shadow; he’s a loud, complaining nuisance.
- He walks with a distinct, hurried shuffle.
- His voice has a strange, operatic quality to it.
- He seems genuinely terrified during the ghost sequences, rather than just cynical.
Speaking of ghosts, the 1938 version has some of the most creative (for the time) practical effects. Leo G. Carroll plays Jacob Marley, and instead of just being a guy in a sheet, they used some clever double-exposure techniques to make him look translucent. For 1938, this was top-tier tech.
The Ghost of Christmas Past is played by Ann Rutherford. In the book, this spirit is described as an androgenous, shape-shifting candle-like figure. MGM ignored that completely and cast a beautiful young woman in a shimmering gown. It’s very "Hollywood," but it works for the tone they were going for.
The Censorship of the 1930s
You can’t talk about the Reginald Owen Christmas Carol without mentioning the Hays Code. Back then, Hollywood had strict rules about what you could show on screen. You couldn't be too dark. You couldn't be too depressing.
This is why the 1938 version skips over some of the bleaker parts of Dickens’ novella. We don’t see the "Ignorance and Want" children hiding under the Ghost of Christmas Present’s robes. Those two starving, wretched kids were considered too grim for a holiday movie in the late 30s. The studio wanted people to leave the theater feeling good, not contemplating the systemic failures of the Industrial Revolution.
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The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come is also scaled back. In many versions, this spirit is a terrifying, silent Grim Reaper. In Owen’s version, it’s still spooky, but the sequence is shortened significantly. The movie focuses way more on the redemption than the sin.
It's All About the Atmosphere
Despite the cuts and the "Hollywood-izing" of the story, the film captures the "Christmas-y" feeling better than almost any other version. The snow looks like actual drifts of white powder (it was probably asbestos, unfortunately, given the era’s production habits). The sets of the London streets are incredibly detailed.
There is a specific scene where Bob Cratchit is sliding down a snowy hill on a board with a bunch of kids. It has nothing to do with the plot. It doesn't move the needle on Scrooge’s soul. But it adds a layer of humanity to Bob Cratchit that we rarely see. Usually, Bob is just a victim—a sad, shivering clerk. In the 1938 film, he’s a guy who loves life despite his poverty.
This version of the story emphasizes the community. We see more of the people in the streets. We see the shopkeepers. It makes Scrooge’s isolation feel more self-imposed and, frankly, more ridiculous.
Is it the "Best" Version?
That’s a loaded question. If you are a Dickens purist, you’re going to hate the changes. You’ll miss the "Ignorance and Want" scene. You’ll be annoyed that Fred and Bess have a subplot. You’ll probably find Reginald Owen’s makeup a bit distracting.
But if you want a movie that feels like a warm blanket, this is it. It’s only an hour and nine minutes long. You can watch it while decorating the tree and not feel drained by the end of it.
The Reginald Owen Christmas Carol was a massive hit for MGM. It proved that there was a hungry market for holiday-themed cinema, paving the way for It’s a Wonderful Life and Miracle on 34th Street a decade later. It’s a historical bridge between the silent era’s theatricality and the modern era’s character-driven drama.
Legacy and Where to Find It
For years, this version was the one played on local TV stations every December. Before the 1951 Sim version became the "standard," Owen was the face of Scrooge for a generation of Americans.
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Today, it’s usually available on TCM or through various streaming rentals. It’s worth a watch just to see the Lockhart family together. Knowing that June Lockhart went from being a kid in this movie to the mom in Lost in Space is a fun bit of trivia that adds a layer of nostalgia to the experience.
The film doesn't try to be a psychological profile of a broken man. It tries to be a story about the joy of coming home. Sometimes, that's exactly what you need.
Actionable Ways to Enjoy the 1938 Version
To get the most out of a viewing of this specific classic, try focusing on the following elements that often go unnoticed by casual viewers:
- Watch the background actors: MGM filled the "London" streets with seasoned character actors. The facial expressions of the people Scrooge passes in the first ten minutes tell a whole story of their own.
- Compare the "Past" ghost: Watch this version back-to-back with the 1984 George C. Scott version. Notice how the 1938 version uses light and shimmering fabrics to denote "spirituality" versus the more literal interpretations used later.
- Listen to the score: Franz Waxman composed the music for this film. He was a legend who worked on Rebecca and Sunset Boulevard. His score for A Christmas Carol is surprisingly complex for a "family" movie.
- Track the Lockhart family: See if you can spot the moments where Gene Lockhart (Bob) is looking at June with genuine fatherly pride. It’s a heartwarming layer to the Cratchit dinner scene.
Check your local listings or streaming platforms like Max (which often carries TCM content) to see if it's currently rotating in their library. While it might not have the dark edge of modern adaptations, it has a soul that is hard to manufacture.
Owen might not have been the first choice, but he ended up creating a version of Scrooge that perfectly mirrored the hope and resilience of the late 1930s. It’s a film about second chances, made by a studio that took a second-chance gamble on a lead actor who delivered.