Everyone has that one version. You know the one. For some, it’s a terrifyingly skinny Jim Carrey flying over London. For others, it’s a nearsighted old man named Mr. Magoo.
But when we talk about a Christmas Carol cartoon, we aren't just talking about kids' stuff. We’re talking about a weirdly specific sub-genre of animation that has been trying to solve the same puzzle for over sixty years: how do you make Victorian misery look good in ink and paint?
Charles Dickens didn't write a "nice" story. He wrote a ghost story about a man who was essentially a predatory lender. It’s dark. It’s damp. It’s full of "ignorant" and "wanting" children hiding under a ghost’s robes. Translating that to a Christmas Carol cartoon usually results in one of two things: a complete softening of the edges or a bizarrely faithful descent into nightmare fuel. Honestly, most of them lean too hard into the "bah humbug" of it all and forget that the book is actually supposed to be funny in a very dry, British sort of way.
The 1971 Richard Williams Masterpiece
Let’s get the "best" one out of the way first. If you want to see a Christmas Carol cartoon that actually feels like the original 1843 novella, you have to find the 1971 version directed by Richard Williams.
It’s only 25 minutes long.
That’s it. No fluff.
Williams, who later served as the animation director for Who Framed Roger Rabbit, used a visual style inspired by the original 19th-century steel engravings by John Leech. It looks like a sketchbook come to life. It’s scratchy. It’s atmospheric. It’s also the only animated version where the Ghost of Christmas Past actually looks like the "strange figure—like a child: yet not so like a child as like an old man" that Dickens described. Most adaptations just make her a glowing lady or a candle. Williams went for the weird.
Alastair Sim, who played Scrooge in the legendary 1951 live-action film, returned to provide the voice. It’s haunting. It actually won an Oscar for Best Animated Short, which eventually led to a rule change because it had been aired on television first. The Academy was salty about that. But the quality is undeniable. It doesn't treat the audience like they're stupid. It understands that for the redemption to matter, the fear has to be real.
Why Mr. Magoo Started the Trend
Believe it or not, Mister Magoo's Christmas Carol (1962) was the first animated Christmas special ever produced specifically for television. Before Charlie Brown, before The Grinch, there was a blind guy accidentally wandering through 19th-century London.
On paper, it sounds like a disaster.
But it works.
The songs were written by Jule Styne and Bob Merrill, who did Funny Girl. They are Broadway-caliber tracks. When Magoo (voiced by Jim Backus) sings "Alone in the World," it’s genuinely heartbreaking. This Christmas Carol cartoon framed the story as a theatrical play, which was a clever way to explain why a famous cartoon character was playing a role. It set the template for every "branded" adaptation that followed, from Mickey Mouse to the Muppets.
The Mickey Factor
Mickey’s Christmas Carol (1983) is the entry point for most people. It’s safe. It’s 26 minutes of Disney perfection. It’s also surprisingly gritty in one specific scene: the graveyard.
👉 See also: Fantastic Creatures and Where to Find Them: Why the Real-World Inspiration is Better Than Fiction
When Pete (playing the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come) pushes Mickey/Scrooge toward the open grave, and the coffin bursts into flames—that was heavy for 1983. It was Disney’s way of saying they could still do "dark." They cast Goofy as Marley’s Ghost, which is a stroke of genius because Marley’s clumsiness with his chains fits Goofy’s "hyuck" persona perfectly. It’s efficient storytelling. You don't need to explain why Scrooge is greedy; he’s Scrooge McDuck. The name is literally the character.
The CGI Uncanny Valley Problem
Then we have the 2009 Robert Zemeckis version. This is the big-budget Christmas Carol cartoon that people either love or absolutely loathe.
It used performance capture.
Jim Carrey played Scrooge at every age. He also played all three ghosts.
Technically, it’s a marvel. The flight sequences over London are breathtaking. But there is a persistent problem with the "Uncanny Valley." The eyes often look dead. In a story about the reclamation of a human soul, having "dead eyes" on your protagonist is a bit of a hurdle. However, if you go back and read the book, Dickens spends a lot of time talking about how cold Scrooge is. He has "frosted" features. In that sense, the stiff, cold animation of the Zemeckis version might actually be the most "accurate" depiction of Scrooge’s internal state. It’s just... uncomfortable to watch for two hours while eating popcorn.
Comparing the Ghost Designs
Most people don't realize how much the Ghost of Christmas Present changes between versions.
- The 1971 Version: A giant, joyous, but ultimately terrifying figure who ages rapidly as his lifespan (one day) comes to an end.
- Mickey's Version: Willie the Giant. He’s just hungry and likes toys.
- The 2009 Version: A booming, manic Jim Carrey who laughs until he literally turns into a skeleton.
The 1971 and 2009 versions are the only ones that keep the "Ignorance and Want" scene. Most Christmas Carol cartoon adaptations cut it because it's too depressing. They are two feral children hidden in the robes of the Ghost of Christmas Present. It’s Dickens’ social commentary on the Victorian poor. Without that scene, the story is just about a mean guy learning to buy a turkey. With it, the story is about a society failing its most vulnerable.
🔗 Read more: Into You: Why This Ariana Grande Classic Still Hits Different in 2026
The Weird Ones You Forgot
There is a 1997 version starring the voice of Tim Curry. It has a talking dog.
Yes, a dog named Debt.
It’s not great.
But it illustrates the desperation of studios in the 90s to find a "new angle" on a story that is already perfect. There’s also the Jetson’s Christmas Carol, where Astro plays the dog... wait, no, they didn't even give him a clever name. It’s just the Jetsons in the future doing the same plot. It fails because the whole point of the story is the Industrial Revolution's cruelty. If you have a robot maid, why is Scrooge so stressed about coal?
The 2022 Netflix version, Scrooge: A Christmas Carol, tried to go the musical route again. It’s a remake of the 1970 live-action musical Scrooge. The animation is slick, and the colors are vibrant, but it feels a bit like a "content play" rather than a piece of art. It’s loud. It’s fast. It’s fine for a Tuesday night, but it doesn't linger in the brain like the scratchy lines of the 1971 short.
What to Look For in a Quality Adaptation
If you are hunting for the best Christmas Carol cartoon to watch this year, stop looking for "new."
Look for "intent."
A good adaptation understands that Scrooge isn't just a grumpy old man. He’s a man who chose money over a woman named Belle because he was terrified of being poor. He’s a man who has a "shrivelled" heart because he stopped engaging with the world.
The animation should reflect that.
The best versions use the medium to do things live-action can't. They stretch Scrooge’s face. They make the ghosts transparent and glowing. They turn London into a labyrinth of shadows.
Actionable Steps for the Ultimate Viewing Experience
If you want to actually appreciate the evolution of this story in animation, don't just binge-watch them randomly. Try this specific sequence to see how different eras handled the source material:
👉 See also: The Oscar Treadwell Radio Show Closing Song: Why "Oska T" Still Matters
- Start with the 1971 Richard Williams version. It’s on various archival sites and occasionally YouTube. It resets your brain to the Victorian era. It’s the "purest" hit of Dickens you can get in animation.
- Move to Mickey’s Christmas Carol (1983). Watch it for the pacing. It’s a masterclass in how to condense a complex novel into 26 minutes without losing the emotional core.
- Finish with the 1962 Mr. Magoo version. Listen to the music. Notice how they use a "stage play" framing device to make the sentimentality feel earned rather than cheesy.
Avoid the versions that add sidekicks. If Scrooge has a talking cat or a wisecracking gargoyle, the stakes are gone. The loneliness is the point. Scrooge has to be alone for the ghosts to matter.
The legacy of the Christmas Carol cartoon isn't about the technology used to make it. It’s about whether or not the animators remembered that Marley’s ghost isn't just there to scare Scrooge—he's there to save him. The best cartoons find the balance between the "ghastly" and the "good." They make you feel the cold of the counting house so that when the sun comes up on Christmas morning, the warmth actually feels real.
Go find the 1971 version. It’s twenty minutes that will change how you look at animation forever. It proves that you don't need a hundred-million-dollar budget to capture the "spirit" of the season; you just need a few pens, some ink, and a deep respect for the man who wrote the book in the first place.
Next Steps for Enthusiasts:
- Check the credits of your favorite animated version; many of the same artists worked on Yellow Submarine or The Thief and the Cobbler.
- Compare the dialogue of the 1971 version with the original book text; you'll find it's almost 90% direct quotes.
- Look for the "lost" animated versions from the 1950s that were often used as commercials for brands like General Electric—they are weird artifacts of advertising history.