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With so many people upset with the fact that they enjoyed the original and have been watching it on TV their whole lives, this remake should never have been made. Remember that the beloved one is also a remake. I agree that the former was superior, but like other holiday movies, isn't it fun that we try to update and try things differently? Think about something like "A Christmas Carol" which has had numerous incarnations. For me the Alistair Sim version still rests on top, but does that mean we shouldn't have Albert Finney's version or, especially, that of George C. Scott (quite well done). I know that actors and directors interpret things differently. We are in a different world now, and personalities are going to be different. There are still the trials and the usual naysayers and the tools of the government presented in their utter humorlessness. It isn't perfect but it's still worth watching. Also, I enjoyed watching Mara Wilson as the little girl.

I can't see why a retelling of a really good story gets panned. It stayed true to the original concept, that believing in something good, even if it only comes once a year, can make us better. If I may reference another Christmas classic of which there have been several worthy interpretations, "Scrooge" (1951), the young Scrooge says to the young Marley upon their meeting, "I believe the world is becoming a very hard and cruel place...". If it was that way in the 1800's, it's ten times worse today, and therefore all the more reason to be reminded of our better nature. I especially enjoyed the scene where the streets of New York City were filled with throngs of people, traffic on the bridges was stopped, all waiting for the verdict. I know NYC well, and how its people rise to such occasions. These scenes were not in the 1947 version, and I think they added a uniqueness to this version. Better, worse than the 1947 version? Neither - just different, and just as valid.

A pretty darn awesome remake. It may bring some extra 90's cheese, mostly due to the needlessly dramatic music, and it may be overlong in places, but this certainly works. Attenborough is the only person I could imagine taking over this role. He comes across as a genuinely kind and considerate man, with nothing but kindness in his heart. Like the original, it keeps silent as to whether he is Santa or not. The court scene is particularly funny, with a few fist pumping moments. I'd still pick the original, but if you can't sit your whole family down in front of a black and white film, this certainly doesn't offend the original.

To watch with the family, especially children. It tried me with some tears it's true, but it wasn't as emotional as I thought. Cute, funny, not boring, it could have been better, but I'm grateful. I want to see the original now. Thank you! Merry Christmas!

Richard Attenborough returned to acting after 14 years behind the camera in "Jurassic Park", and followed it swiftly by daring to challenge comparison with Oscar-winner Edmund Gwenn in this remake.

As a heartwarmer for those inadequates who won't sit through a 60-year-old monochrome movie-- albeit one which rivals "It's a Wonderful Life" as Hollywood's answer to "A Christmas Carol"-- this John Hughes revamp will probably serve. Anyhow, there are plenty of copies on sale at the checkout of my local supermarket. But it is a bit too laid-back and, latterly, too bogged down in argument for younger kids or older boys. It may warm more cockles among the grandparents.

The main thematic interest is how Hughes chooses to tweak the original screen story as adapted (unusually for the time) by the director, George Seaton. Whether he sought to or not, the remake has thrown up some intriguing twists for a more skeptical and secular time.

The oldie caught the mood of an America yearning to get back to normalcy amid the perils of the post-war, Cold War world. Location shooting in New York City, with much co-operation from Macys, gave a touch of realism to the fantasy, whereas in 1994 it's an imaginary store and (for Americans, at least) an incongruously "veddy British" claimant to the chair of Santa Claus- although his nationality is not the issue when the legal meanies of the State of New York try to get him confined to the bughouse.

What is striking is the judge's rationale for allowing Kris's plea for freedom. Because US bills have "In God We Trust" on them, he reasons, it means New York is allowed to have blind faith in the existence of a supernatural being who lays presents on 1.7 billion children in one night, operating from invisible workshops with reindeer which cannot be made to fly in a courtroom demonstration of his powers because it isn't Christmas Eve. Besides, the sneery prosecutor's kids were raised to believe in him, so there- case closed.

In real life the ACLU would be appealing such a judgement all the way to the Supreme Court for allowing too much religion into the law and the public square. "In God We Trust" was only put on the money during the Cold War, to cock a snook at "Godless bolshevism"; but this film is refreshingly disrespectful to the newer orthodoxy of playing down most Americans' beliefs in their films.

Kris asks if he should swear in the Bible, the Pope's ruling on Nicholas's sanctity is debated, and the ethos is quietly but unmistakably Christian. No "spiritual" Santa or "Happy Holidays" here. In a very light fashion, the film does revolve issues of how far it is legitimate to maintain a metaphor as a source of inspiration when rationalism of the Dawkins and Hitchens strain is sniping at it. The screenplay also looks quite beadily at the way commercial operators use holy myth to make money, even if the message comes muted from Hollywood.

That is the good news. There's plenty to carp at as well.

Attenborough's quiet, gentle but firm performance (most atypical of one who spent his previous acting time mainly playing unreliables or martinets) suffuses the film. He gets little competition, save from the contrasted crustiness of Windom. Most of the support is so-so, on the level of a Yuletide TV special, and not excluding little Wilson as the girl who has faith in Mr Kringle's claim to be St Nicholas. She is no Margaret O'Brien, if no worse in her way than the kewpie-doll Natalie Wood. In fact, she's a John Hughes moppet who did little later and nothing since 2000.

The narrative's departures from the well shaped original are no help. Once off the legal hook, Kris, wearing a brown suit, just disappears-- we don't see any triumphal sleigh ride to bid him adieu-- while attention shifts to a ridiculous post-midnight-mass impromptu wedding in a Catholic church. Then follows a trip out to a dream house in the snowy country, ushered by a silly salesman. The film does not seem to know when to call a halt, and there's not so much as Clarence's tinkling bell to bring back Kris at the close. It's as if the whole object of the exercise was to unite two bland characters in matrimony.