So perhaps it was time for a fresh way to bring Scrooge and Tiny Tim to the big screen.
The Man Who Invented Christmas does to the festive favourite what Goodbye Christopher Robin did to Winnie the Pooh.
It offers a behind the scenes look at its creation.
Sadly, in this case the real story is definitely a lot less interesting than the fictional one.
As Christmas 1843 approaches, Dickens (a bland Dan Stevens) needs a hit to pay for some pricey home renovations.
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Then with a deadline looming, his feckless father (Jonathan Pryce) invites himself to stay in the spare room.
He’s not the only distraction.
Soon Dickens’s writing room is invaded by potential characters, the loudest a miser played by Christopher Plummer.
Thankfully, real life lends a helping hand.
He meets a waiter called Marley, hears his Irish maid telling Christmas ghost stories and sees a grumpy old skinflint burying a business partner.
The book almost writes itself.
The film’s best sections involve Plummer, who on this evidence would make a great Scrooge in the 20th straight adaptation of the novella.
They should have bitten the bullet and made that instead.