A neverlasting offer
Christmas films are a mixed bag, aren’t they?
As with most things in December – we’re constantly reminded that there really can be too much of a good thing.
For every It’s a Wonderful Life and Home Alone there’s a Deck the Halls or Star Wars Holiday Special ready to ruin everything.
Like reaching for an additional leftover from the now cold “Indian Selection”, or dipping a soggy tempura prawn into a room temperature sweet chilli dip after a perfectly satisfying Christmas dinner - you just know you’re in for a rough ride.
But there’s one Christmas film that seems to top most lists year in year out. That is, of course, The Muppet Christmas Carol.
At 32 years old, it often ranks as the best adaptation of Charles Dickens’ classic Christmas tale from both critics and film lovers alike. And now, Disney+ have made the full-length version available to stream for the first time.
I decided to watch this version just before Christmas, and I haven’t been able to get something out of my mind ever since.
What’s new?
There’s still time to watch it for yourself of course, but I’ll save you the need to revisit the whole film if you missed the full-length version. I’d like people to read this blog all year round, and I don’t know about you, but Christmas is over by December 27 in this house. To the point that the tree will be down and the thought of watching a Christmas film will be about as tempting as sticking on a LadBaby playlist.
The theatrical cut of the film is 85 minutes, whilst the full-length cut is 89 minutes.
Just four additional minutes.
So what’s new? Is it four minutes of Kermit getting berated by Miss Piggy as she explains why serving pigs in blankets is deeply inappropriate? No. Maybe it’s four minutes of Scrooge umming and ahing over whether to chuck a couple of his employees onto the fire in lieu of coal, to reduce the surplus population? No.
It’s just a song, actually. One song. When Love is Gone.
The song is reprised at the end of the film, when Ebenezer Scrooge finds love and those joining him at the table join in for a final sing song.
But the full number itself was mercilessly cut. Most of us would never know about it (unless you still have the VHS, which it was originally restored for), until now.
No big deal though, right? In a film already full of bangers including It Feels Like Christmas and Marley and Marley, it simply can’t have been that good, right?
WRONG!
Not only is it a great song, the beating heart of the film you could go so far to say, it’s sung so beautifully. Michael Caine himself joins in, but largely the number is performed by Meredith Braun.
CASTING THEN CAST OFF
Who is this Meredith Braun, I hear you cry. Well, I wondered the same thing.
Born in New Zealand and moving to London at the age of 16 – Braun is an actor. Speaking to The Big Issue on the film’s 30th anniversary, she explained she was playing Éponine in Les Misérables when she auditioned for the role of Belle in The Muppet Christmas Carol.
Moving to London to pursue your dream, landing a role in Les Mis and wowing audiences with On my Own night in night out, all before getting cast alongside Michael Caine in a new Muppets movie must’ve felt unreal. And don’t forget this is golden age Muppets too. Directed by Brian Henson (Jim Henson’s son) and released in 1992, it was the first film to be released following his father’s death in 1990. It was quintessential Muppets through and through.
Imagine what it must’ve felt like, then, to attend the film’s premiere and see your song cut.
Your big moment – your dream – cut.
It’s not just four minutes anymore. It’s someone’s everything.
Now, Braun herself has since said it didn’t feel like a big deal – mainly because it remained on the VHS version and so it wasn’t lost. She also said Brian Henson was cross at the song being cut, suggesting studio interference, but that’s not certain.
Either way, and even off the back of Braun taking it so well, I couldn’t help but put myself in her shoes. We’re both actors, so it’s hard not to.
Whenever you’re cast in something, there’s usually a big old caveat in the contract which effectively warns that any work you do isn’t guaranteed to make the finished cut.
In short, even if you receive an offer, it’s still tentative.
In an industry that’s already so uncertain, I suppose it’s fitting that even the certain bit isn’t really.
SORRY, WE’RE GIVING YOU THE ACT
Can you imagine interviewing for a job, going through the many rounds, securing the job and being told by the new boss that your work could be unceremoniously removed at their discretion. Probation is obviously a thing, but you still have the guarantee of a wage. If you’re cast in an advert, say, you don’t even get paid the full amount if you end up on the cutting room floor.
Grim.
I landed an advert some years ago now. An actor I auditioned with also got a part in the same ad. Both buzzing, we flew to a foreign country to film and on day one, this other actor was taken to one side, told they were no longer required, and was flown home that night.
Brutal.
Talk about an emotional rollercoaster. Like with any job offer, you go through the same feelings. The preparation and nervousness ahead of the interview/audition. The agonising wait for the phone to ring. The relentless checking of emails. The rush of excitement when you get an offer. The anxiety around facing the prospect of actually having to do the job. Imposter syndrome and all the rest of it.
But as an actor there’s one more emotional beat – the relentless, inescapable feeling of insecurity.
This manifests itself in several ways for me. There’s the obvious financial concerns – I’ve always had another job alongside acting, but I’ve always settled for lower-paying jobs to avoid too much responsibility.
I don’t want to fully abandon acting, so I can’t fully commit to something else.
But there’s also how that makes me look to my friends and peers. As my age ticks up, the worry that I’ll be perceived as a failure rings louder.
One friend once said I should be wary of “moving into Loserville.” It echoes inside my head daily.
And it’s that which I personally find the examples in this blog to be the most painful. The idea of calling home or telling mates at the pub that I did a job, but you won’t see me in it, or I got the job, but was fired within 24 hours, is just horrible. But this is a routine reality for an actor.
No wonder we’re all emotional wrecks.
But it’s in that complex web of uncertainty, unease and rejection that we build an incredible amount of resilience. And that’s something that can help with all the things life throws at you, soggy tempura aside.
You need a pretty thick skin to be an actor, and the longer you’re in the game the thicker it gets. As a result, you learn how to roll with the punches. What once might’ve led to tears of anger and upset is now an offer to move on to the next challenge. To hold your head high and shrug it off.
You learn to realise that so long as you do that, you’re doing alright. And that “Loserville” can be a damn fine place to call home.
DL x
