‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas’: THR’s 2000 Review

On Nov. 17, 2000, Universal released the Jim Carrey-starring live-action adaptation of the Dr. Seuss classic How the Grinch Stole Christmas in theaters, where it would go on to gross $345 million globally. The Hollywood Reporter’s original review is below:

While doing a big-screen live action remake of a beloved animated TV chestnut can no doubt be a daunting task, Ron Howard will never have to worry about his take on Dr. Seuss’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas being mistaken for anything resembling an instant holiday classic.

It’s not so much that the reported $120 million-plus production goes wrong somewhere along the way, but rather, it never goes right. The tone, which seemingly changes by the minute, is off from the start and leaves an utterly charmless trail of half-baked ideas and misguided attempts at subversive edginess in its wake.

Given Universal’s determination to set some kind of marketing record for Grinch tie-ins, the PG-rated picture stands a good chance of stealing the weekend, but beyond that, it should soon be apparent that Seuss’ pachyderm Horton wasn’t the only one to hatch an egg.

Contrary to initial fears, the specter of Jim Carrey sweating it out under matted layers of dyed yak fur isn’t as scary as it might first appear. Thanks to makeup whiz Rick Baker’s surprisingly flexible latex work, Carrey’s patented rubbery expressions are allowed to come through unimpeded.

A man known for better or worse for his extensive on-set improvising, Carrey definitely sounds like he’s making it up as he goes along here, but he’s not the only one. Director Howard, sort of using a script credited to Jeffrey Price and Peter S. Seaman (both of Who Framed Roger Rabbit fame) as his frequent jump-off point, gooses the material with odd asides. At one point, for example, the rear end of the Grinch’s faithful dog, Max, has an unfortunate meeting with Jeffrey Tambor’s tongue. Don’t ask.

The fundamental problem is that a live-action Grinch requires a director with an artist’s strong visual sense, particularly where fantasy is concerned, and Howard, despite demonstrating a proven affinity for genre-hopping, simply isn’t up to the task that should have been trusted to the likes of a Tim Burton or Terry Gilliam or a John Lasseter (the Toy Story movies). Heck, even a Pedro Almodovar would have had a better stylistic handle on the Theodor Geisel-Chuck Jones sensibility.

Even Whoville looks disappointingly nondescript. The vast seas of Styrofoam suggest the makings of a theme park attraction rather than a whimsically Seussian environment, while its inhabitants are effectively lost under their latex appliances.

Despite the presence of Tambor as the righteous Mayor May Who, Christine Baranski as the vamping Martha May Whovier and gifted mime Bill Irwin as the town’s perplexed postmaster, it’s made pretty clear that they’re merely background players in the “Jim Carrey Show.” As sweet little Cindy Lou Who, newcomer Taylor Momsen is mainly called upon to be an appreciative audience for Carrey’s occasionally inspired antics.

It’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to do it. — Michael Rechtshaffen, originally published on Nov. 17, 2000.