A Christmas Carol

Bristol Old Vic

I am very, very cross with the Bristol Old Vic.

I've lost count of how many Christmas Carols I've seen over the years. The TV version with Patrick Stewart as Scrooge and Richard E Grant as Cratchit; the definitive movie version with Kermit as Bob and Robin as Tim. I have read and enjoyed the original novella multiple times: it seems admirably free of that irritating chirpy cockney Dickensian stuff that disfigures his other books. But the Old Vic's Christmas show is the only version of the story I've seen in which the death of Tiny Tim actually made me cry. 

The production isn't shy about ladling on the sentiment, particularly in the second half. The Spirit of Christmas Present doesn't bother to show us the jolly lighthousemen and convicts singing God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, but goes right ahead and introduces the spirits of Ignorance and Want (represented by some agreeably grotesque puppets.) In fact -- in a funny way -- this production is not all that interested in Christmas at all -- and of course baby Jesus gets even less of a look in than he does in the book. It's not about the spirit of the season so much as about general human compassion and empathy: Scrooge learning that his spirit has to go out into the world and interact with other humans. 

And there is a distinct awareness of the contemporary political relevance of the story. "Are there no prisons?" asks Scrooge "Are there no workhouses? No food banks? No overnight shelters?" 

There is a much greater emphasis on Scrooge's dead sister than in most adaptations, and the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come takes as through three consecutive death-bed scenes: Tiny Tim, nephew Fred, and former lover Belle. I am always surprised by what a radical text Dickens created, with the device of the ghosts allowing Dickens to present a non-linear narrative which starts with Scrooge as he is now, works backwards to show how he came to be that way, and then forwards to show how he and several other characters may or may not end up. (One could almost say it is a Victorian Citizen Kane -- which is come to think of it also about a rich, miserable misanthrope.)

The production wasn't billed as a musical, but it contained lots of singing and dancing. It was constructed with a pantomimic theatricality; actors in multiple roles without any sense of there being a fourth wall to break. After the visitation of the third ghost the repentant Scrooge weaves his way through the audience back onto the stage. "What should I do? What should I do? This is the immersive bit, I'm asking you lot, what should I do?" Some of the stylistic tricks -- and particularly the mixing of theatrical silliness with genuine pathos -- was a lot like last year's Cyrano De Bergerac. It may be the Old Vic's signature theatrical device. 

As a kid-friendly Christmas show, it wasn't ashamed to embrace the Spirit of Pantomime: the second act opens with different sections of the audience competing to see who could sing the loudest and the lyrics of the last song are displayed on stage during the finale so we can all join in. And rather brilliantly, two young children from the audience were invited up onto the stage, the first to play the young Scrooge and the second to play Tiny Tim. I've seen this kind of thing done before in a light-hearted spirit. (Many, many years ago I myself was co-opted into a production of the Taming of the Shrew to play Petrucio's dog.) But it's a real gamble to make the emotional heart of the play rely on the cooperation of a volunteer. It worked beautifully well ("there I am, in my red Victorian trainers...") and if the young lad stumbled when one of the actors whispered the big line ("God bless us every one") in his ear, that just made the scene even more affecting. 

How will we ever remain cynical about Christmas in the face of shows like this?