Ebenezer is unsurprising and a bit cynical, yet skillfully made all the same

It's hard to look at Ebenezer and not feel a tad cynical, which is somewhat ironic, given what it's about. But this is a product and a comeback vehicle, and it can be both and still be a quality picture. With this much talent both behind and in front of the camera, it would be far more surprising if the results were bad.

Ebenezer stars Johnny Depp, who plays the iconic part safely and like a collection of his best hits. These once made him a surefire box office champion, before Depp soured with the public over highly publicized accusations of abuse and domestic violence. Now, he returns with his first leading role in years, and it's the famous one of a repentant man hoping for a renewed chapter in his life.

The isolated and misunderstood Scrooge is aggressively tailored for Depp, even beyond the obvious parts of Dickens' beautiful original prose. Depp, to his credit, understands the assignment and delivers a committed, if unsurprising performance that keeps some of his worst tendencies in check. There are even moments, few and far between, where you can catch a glimmer of Johnny Depp, the actor, instead of Depp, the bloated star.

Yet it's hard to watch the performance instead of the baggage around it or how hungrily Depp clings to a project that will dictate the next decade of his career. Scrooge is a meaty, showy part, yet the most timeless versions (like Michael Caine's) are as straight as an arrow. Depp is still Depp, complete with big bulging eye-acting and broad declarations to the rafters.

Again and again, his love for actor Paul Whitehouse is heartily on display. At times, the Hollywood star lifts entire mannerisms from the British veteran, which left this critic musing on which beats Whitehouse would have stressed in his performance – not exactly where the mind should wander during a film such as this.

And still, despite all this, Ebenezer moved me. More than once, I shed a tear. It's a testament to the power of Dickens' original work and the skills of director Ti West and his cast, all of whom do good work. The great Tramell Tillman and Andrea Riseborough are particularly good as the ghosts of Christmas present and past, while Sam Claflin does a lot with very little as Scrooge's well-intentioned nephew Fred. There is a beautiful scene as Scrooge's walls begin to break as he recollects his youth with his sister, and Depp is genuinely great in that moment. It's unhurried, and Depp underplays the part, and it works better than anything else in the film.

Ebenezer, though heavily leaning on the Gothic ghost story origins, is ultimately highly conventional, almost to the point of somnambulism. Episodic in nature, it splits the runtime between chapter breaks and takes no risks at any turn. Under other circumstances, I could believe that it was the work of earnest Yuletide spirit – a joyous recreation of a classic for a new generation. But, then, Ebenezer plays a visual callback to Nightmare on Elm Street, Depp's original claim to fame, and continues such Elder Millennial/Gen X pageantry to such a degree that I'm once again reminded what it is, and for whom.

It isn't bad. It isn't even boring. It is often skillfully crafted, and on occasion, accidentally moving. But it's also crass and commercial and more than a little cynical, and your enjoyment rests heavily on how much goodwill you have for Depp and his expensive PR tour.

Not quite humbug, but not far off, either.