A Christmas Carol: a tradition endures and delights
05 Dec 2019

by Drew Rowsome -
Production photos by Laura Dittmann,
Thomas Gough photo by Graham Isador

When I reviewed last year's edition of The Three Ships Collective/Soup Can Theatre's A Christmas Carol, I was forced to add a note at the end that announced that, unfortunately for readers, the entire run was sold out. This year's longer run is already 85 percent sold out, so take that under advisement. 

Before starting to type, I re-read my 2018 review and was not surprised to find that all the elements that I raved about are still relevant and were, for the most part, the elements I planned to rave about. So I won't be quoting myself or repeating praise, that can easily be found by clicking here. The adaptation by Justin Haigh (A Christmas Carol, Circle Jerk) is as clever and concise as it was on a first encounter, with a clockwork precision of symbols and emotional connections that surface more explicitly on a second viewing. "Viewing" is not exactly the right word: A Christmas Carol takes place at the Campbell House Museum and one is, while traipsing up and down flights of stairs and in and out of doors, more of a participant. One is a guest at the Fezziwig's party, not a observing wallflower.

Director Sara Thorpe has a firm grip on the daunting logistics and has added an emphasis on the comic possibilities. In many ways, A Christmas Carol resembles a theme park maze or dark ride as much as it does theatre. While I presume the budget was considerably less than that for Galaxy's Edge, A Christmas Carol manages a handful of special effects - the Ghost of Christmases Yet to Come's entrance is quite chilling - though it occasionally has to make do (I suspect hanging lights or installing fog machines or aerial wires would contravene the Campbell House's historic mandate) with the power of imagination. Where it excels is in heart. I'm sure Dickens would approve. 

The variations from last year's review have mainly to do with the cast and the nuances they bring to their roles. Marcel Dragonieri bites into the lubricious high-Dickensian opening monologue with the evangelistic relish of a carny before becoming our usher. Small gestures, whispered instructions and discreet eye rolls, push the role to the edge of camp without ever going over. He creates an alternating hilarious and then horrifying Jacob Marley but somehow also creates a resonant through line. He guides us through A Christmas Carol and the Campbell House just as he guides Scrooge to the Christmas spirit, and when their storyline culminates, I had tears in my eyes at the poetic simplicity, grace and humanity.

Heather Marie Annis (Stupefaction, Bright Lights, 9 - 5) parlays three roles into a joyful comic riff on the endurance of the power of love. She is a charming flirt and her ability to differentiate characters within incarnations of a thematic construct is well matched by Tayves Fiddis as various branches of the Scrooge family tree. Diana Franz is feisty fun and a scene-stealing Kat Letwin (Featherweight, Late Night) explodes with exuberance and crack timing. Nicholas Koy Santillo (The Crucible) is a guarded Bob Cratchit who opens the text to a contemporary indictment of the one percent. Michael Hogan takes malicious glee in not only matching wits with Franz, but also in incarnating a young Ebenezer Scrooge who is deliciously a harbinger lampoon of the towering Thomas Gough (A Christmas Carol, The Crucible, Bent, Donors)

Gough slides into Scrooge's skin with a deceptive ease. As previously noted, it is a largely passive role requiring intense concentration and generosity between the eruptions of repressed emotions. It involves a lot of subtle shifting of gears to build up to the climactic fundamental about-turn. Gough also allows for tiny cracks in Scrooge's curmudgeonly manner that are quickly sealed tight and the curmudgeon resurfaces, quite disturbingly, in the jovial Scrooge. For the first time, in all the many incarnations of this parable that I have seen, I was forced to consider just how much it is in Scrooge's self-interest to become a Christmas advocate. It is less a willing psychological accomplishment and more implanted biblical fear. I'm not sure Dickens would approve of that, but it does make for an intricately layered and relatable Scrooge.

Gough has a Wildean knack with a one-liner or retort which is a defining aspect of this production and the entire cast. Yes, there is a very simple moral at the core and the story is one we have read, heard and seen many times. And yes, I was experiencing this version for a second time. Yet most of us also have many Christmases under our belts and each one has a slightly different magic or melancholy of its own. A new flavour of wonder. There is a reason that some popular culture artifacts, some traditions, endure to be re-interpreted and re-examined. And in this case A Christmas Carol, a hoary old chestnut, has been burnished into a delightful and moving work of art.