“Give and You
Shall Receive”
I just discovered a darling clementine in my shoulder bag,
still fresh, and not lost and gone forever. I’d forgotten it after receiving it
the other day during the moments preceding the latest adaptation of Charles
Dickens’s amazingly enduring A Christmas Carol,
a novella first published in 1843.
I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s not the most frequently filmed and dramatized work of fiction in history. There are several other versions currently on tap, as traditional, during this holiday season, one example being A Christmas Carol in Harlem.
The one I saw is an import from London’s Old Vic, where it premiered in 2017, its script by Jack
Thorne (Harry
Potter and the Cursed Child) and its direction by Matthew Warchus (Matilda). It's at Broadway’s Lyceum Theatre, with Campbell Scott as the flinty old miser,
Ebenezer Scrooge, and Andrea Martin and LaChanze playing the Ghost of Christmas
Past and the Ghost of Christmas Present, respectively (La Chanze also covers
Mrs. Fezziwig).I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s not the most frequently filmed and dramatized work of fiction in history. There are several other versions currently on tap, as traditional, during this holiday season, one example being A Christmas Carol in Harlem.
This joyous version resembles the look of the Royal
Shakespeare Company’s great 1980 (Broadway in 1981) adaptation of Dickens’s The
Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby, although it trims the original to
two hours, whereas Nicholas Nickleby held its audience enthralled for
eight and a half hours over the course of two separate plays.
Andrea Martin, Campbell Scott. |
A simple platform stage, designed by Rob Howell (who also
did the costumes), and thrillingly lit by Hugh Vanstone, thrusts into the
auditorium (necessitating the removal of prime ticket-buying real estate) beneath
a starry sky created from dozens of hanging lanterns. Using barely any scenery
(mainly four slender door frames that rise from the floor and sink back as
needed) and only a highly selective number of props (among them an elaborate
coffin), the production scampers briskly through the familiar story.
Campbell Scott. |
That, of course, is the one about the greedy old buzzard who
considers Christmas a “humbug,” who mistreats his needy clerk, Bob Cratchit (Dashiell
Eaves), before being chastised by a visit from the ghost, in chains, of his
late business partner, Marley (Chris Hoch). Unrepentant, Scrooge is then
visited by the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Yet to Come (here represented
by Scrooge’s dead sister, Little Fan [Rachel Prather]).
Sarah Hunt, Campbell Scott. |
He revisits the failure of his youthful love for Belle
(Sarah Hunt), envisioned by Thorne as the daughter of Fezziwig (Evan Harrington), to
whom young Ebenezer was apprenticed. In Dickens, Fezziwig is a successful businessman,
but here he’s an undertaker. In the most haunting scene, filled with hooded phantoms,
Scrooge also glimpses his own death before he reforms completely, ending with
his altruistically providing the family of his wretched clerk with a bounteous
feast, topped off by the immortal “God bless us. Everyone,” of Bob’s disabled
young boy, Tiny Tim (the adorable Sebastian
Ortiz, who has cerebral palsy, at the performance I attended). I defy you
not to weep at this classic moment.
Campbell Scott, Dashiell Eaves. |
It’s also hard not to weep at the way in which Dickens’s
tale of income inequality continues to reverberate today, where—especially as
noted by the Ghost of Christmas Present—the distribution of wealth has caused heartbreaking
conditions. It’s almost too easy, in fact. to fantasize about parody versions
of the narrative featuring names that appear in our daily newsfeeds. Who is the
most mean-spiritedly unphilanthropic, or, shall I say, illegally philanthropic,
billionaire, you can think of? See what I mean?
Campbell Scott. |
Warchus makes the event as celebratory as possible,
beginning with a small band on stage playing lively Christmas music as the cast—dressed
authentically in mid-19th-century clothing, the men in black coats and stovepipe
hats, the women in wide dresses—walks down the aisles with baskets. As they go, they distribute tangerines and cookies, while actors on stage throw them to outstretched arms in
the auditorium.
In preparation for the feast at the Cratchits’ home, two,
long, white sheets are tossed from either side of the balcony to crisscross on
the stage, where they serve as chutes for an abundance of fruits and vegetables
that soon pile up in baskets. Meanwhile, foods both real (like cabbages) and
artificial (like sausage links) are passed along through the spectators’ hands.
Campbell Scott and company. |
Now and then, carols are inserted into the performance, and
music underscores most of the production. But the loveliest musical moment of
all comes as an encore, when Scrooge, addressing us directly, asks if we’d like
one more. At the audience’s enthusiastic response, the entire company,
singing not a word but each holding one or two handbells, play out, note by
note, in Christopher Nightingale’s exquisite arrangement, the beloved “Silent
Night,” with the very last tinkle, following those by Scrooge himself, given to
Tiny Tim.
Andrea Martin. |
Campbell Scott, white-haired and mutton-chopped, plays
Scrooge in a long, red garment looking like a cross between a coat and a sweater.
He makes a robust, if a bit too perpetually gruff, geezer, a man who brusquely chases
off the carolers at his door. The ghosts played by Andrea Martin and LaChanze push
prams, looking more schoolmarmish than spectral. Martin, one our most
dependably laugh-generating comediennes, isn’t given enough opportunity to do
what she does best, which is also true of the chances given to the vocally exhilarating
LaChanze, here adopting a West Indian accent.
Campbell Scott, LaChanze. |
The supporting company of 13, several playing two roles, is admirable,
although their English accents aren’t always pure. Chris Hoch, who plays both
Marley and Scrooge’s cruel father, sings splendidly, and Sarah Hunt's Belle, especially when Scrooge revisits her after she's been happily married to another, is touching.
Company of A Christmas Carol. |
What else is there? Oh, yes. If you feel wet drops on your
head, it’s because snow is falling on you from snowmakers in the balcony. You
might, in the holiday spirit, wish to reciprocate when you depart with a drop
or two in the buckets waiting in the lobby for use by charitable organizations.
Lyceum Theatre
149 W. 45th St., NYC
Through January 5