Imagine if you will the cast of ‘Gilligan’s Island.’ Now try to picture Mrs. Howell. Try to envision her neatly pressed slacks, her modestly elegant shoes, her selection of blouses, her dyed short blonde hair.

Now imagine what she would look like if she had Mr. Howell’s face.

Got it?

Good. You now know what my grade seven teacher, Mrs. Hunter, looked like.

I thought of Mrs. Hunter on Christmas eve. I had gone to my dad’s place, and was about to turn in around midnight, but decided on a round of T.V. surfing. To my delight, I came across the 1951 classic ‘Scrooge’ just as it was starting.

‘Scrooge’ is a black and white British film that features Alastair Sim in the title role. There is a colourized version out there, courtesy of that jackass Ted Turner, but it is to be avoided. Charles Dickens’ tale is full of ghosts and spectres, and works better in stark, etherial black and white than when laden with the kind of pastel shades you would expect to find in some womens’ clothing store in Brentwood Mall.

I’ve seen the movie a few times. I’m always on the lookout for it around Christmas, mainly because of Mrs. Hunter. Just before the holidays she read ‘A Christmas Carol’ to the class. She didn’t read to us all that much. She generally left that task to the school librarian, Mrs. Lafavour.

Mrs. Hunter arranged her classes in boy-girl-boy-girl seating plans (I was placed directly behind class supervixen Sandra Ackland, which was a mixed blessing). She liked art, but scorned pictures with the colour green in them (purple was her favorite). She insisted her students adhere to the MacLean’s method of handwriting.

She was, on the whole, not to be messed with. When she read ‘A Christmas Carol’ we all listened intently. Each word was delivered with the benifit of decades of practice. Unlike Mrs. Lafavour, who seemed to be perpetually auditioning for a role in ‘Gone With the Wind,’ Mrs. Hunter emphasized only what needed emphasis. She applied theatrical tones sparingly and to maximum effect. She was an old pro.

After reading the novel, she let us in on a secret. There was a movie of the book that we could watch that was actually very good. Usually movies weren’t as good as books, and while one was better off reading Dickens’ story directly, one couldn’t go wrong watching this particular film. It was called ‘Scrooge,’ it starred a guy name Alastair Sim, and it was so good that Mrs. Hunter had been known to reschedule her Christmas dinners in order to watch it.

I remember catching Roger Ebert on T.V. once, trying to convince his viewers to see the film ‘Eve’s Bayou.’ He was pulling out all the stops; it was a great, important, heartwarming film...blah blah blah. Have I ever seen the movie? No.

But I watched ‘Scrooge’ the first chance I got. Ebert needs a Mrs. Hunter as a sidekick. If she told you to watch ‘Eve’s Bayou,’ you’d be down at the video store in about five seconds.

‘Scrooge’ is a short film, about 90 minutes long. It’s nicely paced, yet is full of flourish and detail. Alastair Sim is not a household word now, yet in his day he was one of the best the British theatre had to offer. He is, to paraphrase Tiny Tim, the best Scrooge ever.

I like the character of Scrooge. His behaviour is perplexing to others, but to him it is a necessary defense mechanism. Rolling Stones’ hanger on Tony Sanchez once said of Keith Richards that “like all rich people, he lived in fear of being expoited.” Before you judge Scrooge, try taking a trip to a place like India, and see how long it takes before you are haggling doggedly over cab fares and rickshaw rides, always against a backdrop of utter poverty, even though the sums in question add up to nickles and dimes once they’re converted from rupees to dollars.

The story of Scrooge continues to resonate partly because Scrooge’s society is essentially recognizeable. The industrial revolution has taken place, and Scrooge has gained wealth not from priviledge or title, but because he’s hard working and ambitious. The people around him are of the burgeoning middle classes, to use a stock history book phrase. The world of commerce in which Scrooge makes his living seems almost unchanged; buyouts, takeovers, alliances. Indeed, Scrooge and his business partner, Jacob Marley, rise to financial power after the principals in their company commit fraud. Enron, circa 1843.

Dickens’ Scrooge, though extreme, is not the goofy caricature of Canadian Tire commercials. His 'scroogeness’ was not always with him; he was once young, engaged, in many ways unrecognizeable from what he became later. But, as often happens with people, he drifted into a pattern of behaviour caused by his reaction to events and circumstances. The trips we take throught the past, present and future are meant to convey a transition. Scrooge’s estrangement from society came in bits and pieces; his behavior causing isolation, his isolation reinforcing the behavior.

“God Bless us, every one,” is perhaps the most memorable line in ‘A Cristmas Carol,’ yet the story seems more secular than religious. There’s even something pagan (or maybe new age) about Scrooge being visited by a series of ghosts. The first is the ghost of the tormented Jacob Marley. Like Scrooge, Marley lived a life in isolation, always on the defense. On his deathbed, he summons Scrooge, and implores him to save himself. Marley has realized their mistake, but Scrooge was not yet ready to listen. When we see Marley’s ghost, anguished and weighed down by chains, he is not suffering a punishment delivered by God, but rather one brought upon himself. His chains are those of regret and remorse.

Alastair Sim is particularly fun to watch during the scene where Scrooge wakes up from his long succession of nightmares. He realizes he’s still got a chance at redemption, and bounds around like a child. The look of the film beautifully reflects the new dawn. Scrooge’s long, harrowing Christmas eve seems mostly dark. Christmas morning, by contrast, is vivid and bright.

In a sense, Scrooge’s redemption would not be as magnificent had he not wasted so many years. One can almost see him sitting next to Danny Bonaduce and Charlie Sheen on Oprah, telling her “I regret nothing, because everything I’ve done in my past has brought me to this point.” Scrooge is like Team Canada in the 1972 series against the Russians; the exhilaration of winning would not have been as potent had they not fucked up the first half of the series and the first two-thirds of the final game.

Of course, in hockey it doesn’t really matter if you wasted most of a game or a series. If you win, you win. Life is different. Once you’ve thrown away youth and time they’re gone, no matter what kind of comeback you pull off later. For all its hope and salvation, the story of Scrooge is a still a cautionary tale. Mrs. Hunter may have been right to make it a cornerstone of the school year, but the problem is, children don’t believe it can happen to them. Time is the last thing they worry about.

Perhaps she figured that her students would come back to the story later in life if she impressed it upon them firmly enough. Like great records, her lessons made sense over time. There were occasions when Mrs. Hunter herself seemed pretty Scrooge-like, but on reflection she was more like Scrooge’s ghosts; scary as hell, but usually right.