Christmas specials are usually pretty predictable. You get the snow, the lessons learned, and a heavy dose of sentimentality that feels like eating too much fudge. But back in 2004, NBC did something a bit different. They took the most famous grump in literary history and handed the top hat to the man who made high-brow sarcasm an art form: Kelsey Grammer. Scrooge with Kelsey Grammer isn’t just another Christmas Carol adaptation—it’s a musical time capsule that bridges the gap between Broadway prestige and mid-2000s television ambition.
Honestly, it’s kind of a weird sell on paper. Grammer was just coming off the massive, decade-defining success of Frasier. Most people expected him to lean into the sitcom world or maybe do some Shakespeare. Instead, he jumped into a full-scale musical production of the Dickens classic. This wasn’t some low-budget stage recording, either. It was a lush, vibrant adaptation of the 1994 Alan Menken and Lynn Ahrens musical that ran at Madison Square Garden for years.
The Frasier Effect on Ebenezer
When you watch Scrooge with Kelsey Grammer, you can’t help but see flashes of Dr. Crane. It’s unavoidable. The clipped diction, the puffed-out chest, that specific way he looks at someone like they’re a particularly offensive piece of moldy cheese. But that’s actually why it works so well. Ebenezer Scrooge is often played as a withered, spindly old man. Grammer plays him with a robust, intellectual arrogance.
He’s not just a miser; he’s a man who genuinely believes he is the only sane person in a room full of idiots.
The vocal performance is the real surprise if you only know him from TV. Grammer has a rich baritone that carries the Menken score with surprising ease. "A Place Called Home" becomes a genuine emotional anchor rather than just another musical number. You’ve got to remember that Menken was the king of the Disney Renaissance—the guy behind Beauty and the Beast and Aladdin—so the music has that sweeping, cinematic quality that demands a big presence. Grammer delivers that.
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A Cast That Actually Showed Up
A lot of these TV movies feel like "star vehicles" where the supporting cast is just there to fill space. Not this one. You’ve got Jane Krakowski as the Ghost of Christmas Past. Before she was Jenna Maroney on 30 Rock, she was a Broadway powerhouse, and she brings a manic, ethereal energy to the role that keeps the first act from feeling too gloomy.
Then there’s Jesse L. Martin as the Ghost of Christmas Present. Fresh off his run in Rent and right in the middle of his Law & Order years, he brings a soulful, booming charisma to "Abundance and Charity." It’s a massive production number that feels way bigger than your standard 2004 television screen.
Jennifer Love Hewitt pops up as Emily, the lost love. It’s very of-its-time, but her presence adds to that specific mid-2000s "event television" feel. The production didn't cut corners. They wanted it to feel like a Broadway show you could watch from your couch.
Why This Version Sticks Out in a Crowded Field
There are roughly a billion versions of A Christmas Carol. You’ve got the Muppets (the gold standard), Alastair Sim (the classic), and Patrick Stewart (the masterclass). So, where does Scrooge with Kelsey Grammer fit?
It fits in the "unapologetically theatrical" category.
Director Arthur Allan Seidelman didn't try to make this a gritty, realistic portrayal of Victorian London. It’s stylized. The colors are saturated. The choreography by Susan Stroman—who is basically royalty in the theater world—is tight and expressive. It feels like a stage play that escaped the theater and found a camera. For some people, that’s a turn-off. They want the grime and the soot. But if you like the "showmanship" of the holidays, this version hits a specific sweet spot.
It also handles the "scary" stuff surprisingly well for a family musical. The Marley sequence with Jason Alexander (yes, George Costanza himself) is genuinely creepy. Alexander plays Jacob Marley with a desperate, clanking franticness that reminds you the stakes of the story are actually pretty high. It’s about a man’s soul, after all.
The Menken Touch
You can’t talk about this movie without talking about Alan Menken. By 2004, the "Disney Sound" was the definitive sound of American fantasy. Putting that musical DNA into Dickens was a smart move. The songs don't just stop the plot; they move it.
- "Link by Link": A heavy-hitting number about the chains we forge in life.
- "Yesterday, Tomorrow and Today": The climactic realization where the character finally breaks.
These aren't just fluff. They provide the emotional scaffolding that Grammer uses to transition from the "Bah Humbug" caricature into a redeemed human being.
The Critics and the Legacy
Critics at the time were... split. Some found it a bit too "theatrical" for television. They weren't used to seeing the star of a sophisticated sitcom singing and dancing through the streets of London. But audiences have been much kinder to it over the years. It has become a bit of a cult favorite for people who grew up in that era.
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One thing people often get wrong is thinking this was a live broadcast. It wasn't. It was filmed in Budapest, which gave it access to some incredible architecture and a scale that a soundstage in California just couldn't replicate. The "Old World" feel is real, even if the performances are heightened.
There's also a misconception that Grammer was just "doing it for the paycheck." If you watch the performance closely, you see a lot of craft. He avoids the "Frasier" trap just enough to make Scrooge feel like a distinct entity. He brings a physical weight to the role—the way he leans on his cane, the way his shoulders drop when he sees his younger self. It's subtle work wrapped in a loud musical.
How to Watch It Now and What to Look For
Finding Scrooge with Kelsey Grammer today can be a bit of a hunt depending on which streaming services are playing musical chairs with rights. It’s frequently available on platforms like Peacock or for digital purchase on Amazon.
If you decide to revisit it, pay attention to the orchestrations. They are massive. In an era where most TV movies were using synthesized backing tracks, the full orchestral sound here makes a huge difference. It feels expensive.
Also, keep an eye out for the "Dancing Monks" sequence. It’s one of those "only in a musical" moments that is both bizarre and weirdly mesmerizing. It’s the kind of creative risk that modern TV specials—which are often terrified of being "too much"—rarely take anymore.
The Real Lesson of the 2004 Production
The lasting value of this version is that it reminds us that Scrooge doesn't have to be a miserable vacuum of energy. He can be a formidable antagonist who has to be broken down and rebuilt. Grammer’s Scrooge has an ego. Watching that ego crumble is much more satisfying than watching a frail old man simply get scared by ghosts.
It’s about the reclamation of a powerful man. That’s a theme that feels just as relevant now as it did in 1843 or 2004.
To get the most out of your viewing, don't compare it to the gritty 2019 FX version or the black-and-white classics. Treat it like a front-row seat at a Broadway show. Turn the volume up for the Menken score. If you go into it expecting a theatrical spectacle rather than a historical documentary, it holds up remarkably well.
Next Steps for the Festive Viewer:
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- Check the Credits: Look for the Lynn Ahrens lyrics; she’s the same genius behind Ragtime and Anastasia, which explains why the storytelling in the songs is so tight.
- Compare the Marleys: Watch Jason Alexander’s Marley side-by-side with any other version. His physical comedy background makes the "ghostly" movements much more interesting than the standard floating phantom.
- Listen for the Frasierisms: It’s a fun game to play with friends—count how many times Scrooge uses a word or a tone that would fit perfectly at Cafe Nervosa. It adds a layer of unintentional comedy that makes the movie even more enjoyable.
This production remains a testament to a time when network television was willing to spend big money on high-art adaptations. It’s flawed, it’s loud, and it’s occasionally over-the-top. But it’s also sincere. In a world of cynical holiday content, that sincerity is worth the watch.