# How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000)

### reviewed by
Mark O'Hara

How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000)

Let's face it, Ron Howard's feature film adaptation of Dr. Seuss' book HOW THE GRINCH STOLE CHRISTMAS cannot take the place of Chuck Jones' cartoon version, Boris Karloff at the helm as the narrator and Grinch.

That doesn't mean that Howard's version is not good. It should remind us, however, that humans hold a jaded eye on newcomers: you'll never be as good as the person you're replacing, we would like to get in someone's face and say – and sometimes we do.

Aside from spots of slow pacing, the 2000 HOW THE GRINCH STOLE CHRISTMAS is just fine. The good doctor's message still comes across – the Christmas season has become too commercialized, and what matters most is not material – and we're given even more whimsical lore at which to chuckle.

Word has it that Mrs. Geisel, the author's widow, was around to approve or nix modern tweaks on her husband's work – read, thank goodness for less potty humor! The major readjustments of plot involve the Grinch's early years, specifically, the events that added enough bile to his personality to match the green fur covering his body. Certainly another timeless message imparted by the story is tolerance. When we see the new babies floating down to Whoville, their pristine bassinets suspended from colorful umbrellas, we are struck by the infant Grinch's plight. His cradle and umbrella are drab and torn, and more importantly, his appearance and manner are vastly different from the norm in Whoville. Indeed, the movie tilts a bit heavily in the direction of correctness, though its visual richness coats the morals in sweetness.

The sets are among the major stars of the film. The aerial shots of Whoville are stunning, the crazy cottages nestled among the snow-covered hills, all overlooked by the wave-like crest of Mount Crumpit – home of the Grinch. The lair of this green legend is wondrous as well. Worked up with contraptions worthy of Rube Goldberg, replete with Seussian silliness, the cave gives us lots of candy for the eyes; what's best is that the furnishings are grounded in dark humor, so we are not overcome by sickly sentiment.

Too bad the movie's slowest moments come early in the narrative, and mostly in the cave. Meant surely as characterization, many minutes are filled with the Grinch grumping around his pad, his self-loathing as prominent as his loathing for the Whos who rejected him in his youth. Speed it up, Mr. Howard!

I am not mentioning the star of the film until this, paragraph number seven. Perhaps this is because he is overpaid for his films – a curious irony in this particular work. Jim Carrey is cast perfectly in this role. Director Howard seems to have set him free in a good deal of scenes, though a few of these should have been cut, as mentioned earlier. Anyhow, Carrey is marvelously goofy in his body English, speaking perfectly in this quintessentially grouchy role. I suppose I should not hold a grudge against actors or athletes because of how many millions they carry away: it's the teams and studios that are run by free agency and its cousin avarice.

Anthony Hopkins is the designated deliveryman of the British accent. His voice over narration ends up sturdy but unremarkable.

The supporting cast strengthens this expanded version of the Grinch story. Jeffrey Tambor is always a sure character actor, and his mayor of Whoville is nicely haughty and short-sighted. Christine Baranski as Martha May Whovier is the aging beauty who once loved the grumpy green guy. Perhaps the best support is lent by Taylor Momsen as Cindy Lou Who. Her cuteness never gets in the way of her acting ability.

HOW THE GRINCH STOLE CHRISTMAS is a good film to see during the holiday season. It will also make a good addition to any collection of videos or DVDs. Just remember to be tolerant, and regard the movie not as an upstart out to upstage the original, but as an update designed to deliver the same delicious message.

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