Based on Christopher Isherwood‘s 1964 novel of the same name and adapted by Ford, A Single Man chronicles one day in the life of George (Colin Firth), a teacher mourning the loss of his long-time partner Jim (Matthew Goode). As the old adage says, a gun introduced in the first scene must be used by the end of the story, so it’s no surprise to learn that George has decided to kill himself.

In an effort to understand George more fully, A Single Man jumps seamlessly through time: George and Jim share a quiet moment together on the couch; a student attempts to seduce George; George and Jim meet; George encounters a hustler outside a liquor store. Ford ensures that it is always crystal clear what’s taking place and why George and the audience need to experience each particular moment. Some moments are lifted straight from Isherwood’s page with their lyrical nature intact, while others are liberally adapted by Ford, who goes so far as to add new characters and, most daringly, the suicide plot. While Isherwood purists are sure to be up in arms about the changes, Ford’s version is strong.

Firth delivers an Oscar-worthy turn as George; it’s a highly nuanced performance and an utter joy to watch. Everything about Firth’s portrayal of George is highly controlled, which is the perfect description for the character. Even in plotting death, things are planned to the final detail, and Firth imbues George with a cool, calm, collected aura. However, when watching George get blindsided by the news of Jim’s death or wooed by an attractive man, the side of George that still marvels at the wonders of life peeks through. Firth deftly moves between jaded and awed with a dexterity that takes George – and the film – to a whole new level.

To read the rest of Tim’s review, hop on over to Metro Weekly, where his article is currently running.

A Single Man is the story of George Falconer, a British college professor who is struggling to find meaning in his life after the death of his long-time partner, Jim . He is consoled by his closest friend Charley, a 48-year-old beauty, and is stalked by one of his students, Kenny.

When you take all the kid stuff out of Disney’s A Christmas Carol, it’s quite a good film. But those meddling kids…

As one of the most oft-told holiday stories, Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol hardly needs any summary: crotchety old man gets visited by three ghosts and sees the error of his ways. Been there, seen it. Maybe even read it.

Since the story has had countless film treatments over the years, it’s really how it’s told that distinguishes one version from the next. Director Robert Zemeckis resurrects his animation style from The Polar Express to give Dickens’ cautionary tale another visit. Fortunately this time Zemeckis manages to avoid the dead eye issue that plagued his last holiday treat.

The role of Ebenezer Scrooge (or his equivalent) has been played by all sorts of actors and scenarios, from Michael Caine (opposite the Muppets), to singing Kelsey Grammer, to Mickey Mouse, to Bill Murray in Scrooged (always a personal favorite). So it was probably only a matter of time before Jim Carrey attached a prosthetic nose and stooped over to fill the miser’s shoes.

Taking a page from an Eddie Murphy movie, Carrey plays opposite himself as all three of the visiting ghosts. Since one is a flaming candle, one a portly jolly tub of man, and one a skeleton, it’s tough to tell it’s Carry behind all of the make-up and animation. Actually, all of the make-up and animation make it tough to tell what he is doing at all.

Carrey is most effective when he isn’t acting like a fool as seen in Ace Ventura or The Mask. Dour Scrooge is much better than the light-hearted version, who becomes more cartoonish – and more old school Carrey. He’s joined by a bevy of actors in the supporting roles, including Colin Firth and Gary Oldman – and Cary Elwes and Robin Wright Penn in a nice Princess Bride reunion – but this is really a vehicle for the lead star.

The heart of Zemeckis’ film, which he also wrote, is dark and dreary. Even with the animation, it’s quite adult. The language is lyrical at times, dated in content and style that is going to fly over young kids like Santa in his sleigh. But the more concerning content are the fire and brimstone moments. For example, Scrooge hangs onto a root to avoid falling into his glowing red coffin and it slowly transforms into a boney finger. It’s an incredibly effective moment that deserves to be applauded for its crafting, but it’s frightening nevertheless.

Yet it’s this more-grown up nature that makes the film enjoyable and the moments of whimsy feel out of place. When Carrey plays the Ghost of Christmas Past and appears as a lit candle, his affectations and lisp are distracting; when Scrooge become a tiny version of himself, squeaking in a high-pitched voice and getting tossed around like a rag doll, it’s filler. Zemeckis doesn’t walk the line between the two extremes with any finesse and it’s one of the few – albeit big – faults with the film.

Where Zemeckis shines is in the visuals. Showing in 3-D in many theaters, the experience of the film is thoroughly enjoyable. Some of the shot perspectives are clearly designed to show off the 3-D technology and seem forced, but others are pure wonders. Between snow falling and Scrooge flying, there’s a whole lot of eye candy packed into this stocking.

Zemeckis has taken an old standard and wrapped it in new, shiny paper for this holiday season. While it may not seem like the first present you want to open, it’s certainly not going to get returned on December 26th.