In his third utilization of performance capture technique, does filmmaker Zemeckis "virtually" succeed? If not, fears Kimberly Gadette, he may just get a midnight visit from the ghost of a disgruntled writer. Someone who hopes to scare the Dickens out of him.

An undertaker holds his hand out toward a wizened old man (Jim Carrey's Scrooge), in silent expectation of a tip for his burial services for Scrooge's deceased partner, Jacob Marley. But it's difficult to know if the undertaker is gazing at Scrooge. His eyes are mismatched, the one deviating slightly from the other. Who is he looking at? No bother, the undertaker obviously has a lazy eye, making for an interesting character deformity. How clever. Until we see Scrooge's next encounter with a group of carolers, the camera lingering on one singer's face … and heaven help us, her eyes are also misaligned. God no, not again. As if cholera, typhoid and London's Great Stink of 1858 weren't bad enough: was there some heretofore untold 19th century lazy-eye epidemic?

And so we are subject to an ongoing annoyance blinking at us throughout this film, making us want to scream at the screen, "Who the hell are you looking at?!"

Ever since the 1843 publication of Dickens' classic tale of a bitter miser who experiences a life-changing epiphany after a rash of unwelcome visitations by misbehaving spirits, the story has been reconfigured in a myriad of media including film, television, theater, radio and opera. Though Zemeckis' film looks to reflect a Dickensian, mid-nineteenth century London awash in a snowy Christmas glow, his creation is unfortunately most reminiscent of 1962's Mister Magoo's Christmas Carol. Because you see (or not), sore eyes are eyesores indeed.

The earlier renditions of this "performance capture" technique (The Polar Express, Beowulf) resulted in disturbing visions of waxen half-people stumbling about. But in this latest film, things were looking up … or rather, out. A Christmas Carol's advance photos and trailers depicted a Scrooge scowling into the lens with sharp, intense eyes. Begging the question: if the improved technology was available for the "star," why not use it for the rest of the characters?

("Performance capture" is a digital blend of live performance and animated elements. Wearing heavy suits covered with sensors, the actors initially play out their scenes in an empty space. Their movements are recorded as 3D "moving data points." After the actors are dismissed, the digitally-recorded performances are subsequently folded into an exclusively virtual environment.)

These isolated performances, occurring without benefit of sets, props and costumes, may very well be the reason that the scenes look as if they were acted by high school students. Part of the actor's craft is in his creating a character who fully inhabits the world in which he lives. Aiding in his depiction are such tangible elements as the flow of a costume, the weight of a wig, the prop, that help him express himself in a myriad of ways. And perhaps that's why Carrey, without benefit of a visceral environment, falls back on his old tricks. His Ghost of Christmas Present doesn't just laugh – he guffaws throughout his entire appearance onscreen. (Riddler, anyone?) His reborn Scrooge dances as if he were a modern Jim Carrey, rather than an age-appropriate geezer improvising on the dances of his day.

Gary Oldman rallies, both as a riveting Jacob Marley and as a sweet, peaceable Bob Cratchit – but sadly, Cratchit is as much in need of an ophthalmologist as the rest of the film's populace. The other principals (Colin Firth, Robin Wright Penn, Bob Hoskins) are inexplicably wasted. Adding to the generic performances, Zemeckis' unimaginative adaptation of the Dickens' story offers no additional insight into the characters.

Ironically enough, while the script and performances are flat, the production design and visual effects are a-whirl with dimension. We speed forward, rolling and dipping over rooftops, while snow flurries fly at us, creating two layers of movement. Zemeckis is a bit of a show-off, zooming in between chimneys and through holly wreaths, repeatedly depicting exhalations of breath in the cold winter air. An overly long chase scene with red-eyed phantom horses changes the film into an over-the-top action adventure movie. He and Carrey share the bad habit of overdo: if one is enough, twelve is better.

And yet, Zemeckis is still a master filmmaker, hitting some high notes that can't be ignored. The world he paints outside of Scrooge's upstairs window, strewn with Marley's flying green compatriots all writhing in their singular hells, is equally fascinating and horrifying. And his Salvador Dali-esque scene, a gigantic clock looming large over a flat wood floor stretching to infinity, one spirit vaporizing while his shadowy replacement suddenly appears, is sheer visual brilliance.

But as for the technique of "performance capture," it might be time for an intervention, ghostly or otherwise. You're a filmmaker, Mr. Zemeckis, not a puppeteer. Enough is enough.

Rating on a scale of 5 Christmas spectacles: 2.5

Release date: US & UK: 6 November 2009
Directed by: Robert Zemeckis
Screenplay by: Robert Zemeckis
Based on the novella by: Charles Dickens
Cast: Jim Carrey, Gary Oldman, Colin Firth, Bob Hoskins, Robin Wright Penn, Cary Elwes
Rating: US = PG; UK = PG
Running time: 96 minutes