Christmas movies are fun. I like Christmas movies because they're generally nice, lightweight, enjoyable pieces of fluff with important moralistic messages ("It's a Wonderful Life," "Scrooge") or sometimes they're just fun to watch ("Gremlins," "Home Alone").
"Scrooged" isn't lightweight, cheery, or happy. It's dark, brooding, sort of evil, and it's the only Christmas movie I can think of that seems as if Tim Burton directed it.
Am I insulting the film? Heavens, no. I love it. In fact, I'm complimenting it. Instead of repeating old traditions, it's trying something new, and the secret to the film is the way it actually pulls it all off.
The plot: Frank Cross is the youngest television station president in recorded history because he knows the people. At least he thinks he does. In reality, he's just a greedy tycoon who gives people bath towels for Christmas -- including his own brother.
Cross is a modern day Scrooge, and the movie "Scrooged" is a modern reworking of the classic Charles Dickens story. Frank Cross is played by Bill Murray absolutely perfectly. He's cynical, dry, and sarcastic, and doesn't give a darn about anyone else other than himself.
So the night before Christmas Eve, Frank is visited by an old business partner -- who has been dead for seven years. ("I wouldn't have guessed more than three, tops," says Frank in his usual sarcastic tone.) His old associate warns Frank to change his ways or he'll end up like himself -- angry, bitter...and dead.
Frank doesn't pay any attention to his "hallucination," and continues being his usual self during the festive Christmas holiday -- by ripping off old ladies' cabs and firing Elliot (Bobcat Goldthwait) on Christmas Eve.