‘A Christmas Carol’ • 3 1/2 out of 5 stars

There hasn’t been a worldwide clamoring for another rendition of “A Christmas Carol,” much less a groundswell of support for an animated version starring rubber-faced Jim Carrey. But that didn’t stop Robert Zemeckis from proceeding with his own 3-D account of Dickens’ enduring tale about that seasoned miser Ebenezer Scrooge.

As writer and director, Zemeckis has crafted a magnificent spectacle, at once gorgeous and mysterious. This time, the filmmaker and his illustrators have slightly deviated from the performance-capture approach used for “The Polar Express” and “Beowulf,” opting for key-framing by hand. What that essentially means to the audience is more lifelike facial features and expressions, with the physicality of real-life actors.

That isn’t to say its omnipresent star, Jim Carrey, is always easy to spot under Scrooge’s exaggerated face and nose-tip bifocals. Returning to the animation world two years removed from “Horton Hears a Who” and five years after “Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events,” Carrey dutifully handles a handful of roles, including the trio of spirits.

As the well-chronicled story goes, our notorious cold-hearted curmudgeon is confronted by the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Yet-to-Come — the first of which boasts an entertaining candle-flame head.

Less likable is the second specter, though he pilots a flying house replete with a dissolving floor that enables Scrooge to observe the town from a bird’s-eye view. By the time the Grim Reaper silhouette appears, courtesy of Ghost of Christmas Future, our remorseful hero has seen enough: “Haunt me no longer!”

Most of the participants’ caricatures are instantly identifiable, namely those of Bob Hoskins and Gary Oldman (the eyes have it). Picking out, say, Colin Firth or even Carrey when he’s embodying the ghosts is a bit more challenging, albeit just as fun.

In his first collaboration with Disney since the groundbreaking “Who Framed Roger Rabbit,” Zemeckis takes a pair of missteps in following Scrooge’s worn path to redemption: The glowing, overbearing likeness of his late business partner, saddled with octopus-like chains anchored by chests; and the humdrum chase with a horse-drawn hearse. Both sequences amount to messy filler amid otherwise captivating, sumptuous imagery.

Moments of flashback, reflection and eavesdropping — such as when Scrooge sees himself as a schoolboy or overhears his lone relative (Firth) and guests playing a game of charades — prove altogether poignant.

With “A Christmas Carol,” Zemeckis pumps up the visuals and special effects to the detriment of his narrative. But as Ebenezer’s icy demeanor thaws, the climactic moments are quite touching, no matter how predictable and ostentatious.

‘2012’ • 2 out of 5 stars

The title “2012” doesn’t refer to the movie’s total minutes, though viewers will feel as if they’ve been sitting for an eternity because this latest apocalyptic project from Roland Emmerich (“Independence Day” and “The Day After Tomorrow”) reflects no shame while dismantling the world for more than 2˝ hours.

As writer and director, the German overseer has pulled this stunt many times before, though nobody in Hollywood has ever put the brakes on him — because money talks. When anybody makes a doomsday adventure with marquee names tossed into the mix, it’s a surefire box-office bonanza.

In other words, if you’re going to blame someone for the parade of cookie-cutter disasters, point the finger at legions of filmgoers — not Emmerich. He’s merely been heeding the call, in the only manner he knows how.

This latest special-effects scenario, named after the Mayans’ infamous “prediction” about humankind coming to a halt Dec. 21 three years from now, follows the blueprint to financial success: An American scientist (Chiwetel Ejiofor), the U.S. President (Danny Glover), a thirtysomething go-getter and author (John Cusack), a love interest (Amanda Peet) with cute kids and a foreign astrophysicist (Jimi Mistry) start stirring the melting pot, in every sense of the phrase.

Along for this endless wild ride are a public-relations honcho (Oliver Platt) and the token bifocaled British expert essentially posing as the Grim Reaper, spewing panic-evoking phrases.

Last and least, there’s a bloated Russian billionaire (Zlatko Buric, a Croatian) who inexplicably does anything he wants with no obstacles. To wit: During a pivotal moment, he slugs a security guard, with no repercussions, prompting a wave of humanity to follow him. The sight of this man leading a charge on foot — as if hundreds of younger, athletic individuals can’t outrun the massive mogul — qualifies as the film’s largest inadvertent howler.

The Soviet also gets saddled with the script’s most obtuse dialogue, notably when the aircraft in which he’s a passenger is approaching a blazing, bubbling landmass: “Not good. That is not good.” (His sons, who struggle with their accents throughout, sound as if they’re auditioning for the roles of Boris and Natasha in “Rocky & Bullwinkle.”)

It’s difficult to fault true professionals such as Glover, Cusack, Ejiofor and Platt for what unfolds. Granted, the actors needn’t have accepted their thankless roles herein, but at least they diligently strive to spin Emmerich’s horse manure into Egyptian cotton.

Leave it to our myopic director to achieve the impossible: Despite its interminable length, “2012” is an altogether humorless affair.

What passes for would-be laughs is Woody Harrelson’s reclusive hippie, host of a makeshift radio program in Yellowstone Park. Yet this pickle-eating creep doesn’t elicit the type of laughs we desperately need; by the time he confronts Mother Earth from a mountaintop, we’re cheering for the lunatic to get swallowed up. Then again, it’s par for the cataclysmic course: Emmerich spending countless millions on earthquakes, tidal waves, come what may.

Sure, it may be “cool” to watch chunks of California slide into the Pacific and to witness the Washington Monument take a fall. Less enjoyable is observing fine actors at the mercy of such imagery and Emmerich’s screenplay — the biggest catastrophe of all.

jluksic@syvjournal.com