It builds up to the sap that we expect from an umpteenth Hollywood take on A Christmas Carol—at the end, the movie literally, and embarrassingly, yells at the audience to react—but it takes one weird path to get there. Everyone here seems to be experimenting. Director Richard Donner, making his second unconventional Christmas movie in a row (after Lethal Weapon) plays around with a kind of 1980s Expressionism. Every character is over the top. The New York City street lights are pretty, yet demonic. The slick surfaces of a television network executive’s offices are sterile and oppressive. Everything is black, the perfect color to make sure that you’ve snorted up ALL of the cocaine. Meanwhile, star Bill Murray tweaks his signature smartass persona in the movies and finds that it doesn’t take much to modify that character as a total creep. Just give that guy a little bit of power and he’ll be the biggest shit you’ve seen all year. This was Murray’s return to the screen after a few years of licking his wounds over the critical and commercial failure of his dramatic turn in The Razor’s Edge. He does not come back begging, though. He’s mean and boldly vulnerable here, delivering jokes while also working out his acting chops. He goes for it, even when the words don’t always sound convincing coming out of his mouth.