A CHRISTMAS CAROL at the Old Vic

★★★★★

“an evening of pure magic”

You could argue (and many people do) that the run up to Christmas gets earlier and earlier each year. No sooner have the pumpkins rotted and the fake cobwebs blown away from the city’s hedgerows, than the festive lights are switched on and Santa dominates the shop window displays. We utter ‘Humbug’ in disapproval and complain about rampant commercialism, while inwardly allowing the child in us a little bit of excitement. There is always a watershed, though, after which we can openly embrace the festive season without shame; and over the years one of them has become opening night of the Old Vic’s “A Christmas Carol”. It may still be November, but the annual event in Waterloo is now as traditional as mince pies. The spirit of Christmas is officially declared in our capital. And Old Marley is dead as a door nail.

Tradition rules in what is a faithful, but inspired, telling of Charles Dickens’ ‘ghostly little book’. Originally written in five staves it seems to be inviting a musical underscore, which Christopher Nightingale more than excels in providing. From the opening (and closing) handbell ringing through to the filmic strings and reeds, not to mention the chorale harmonies of the cast – dubbed ‘singing creatures’ by Scrooge. The ensemble cast also double up as a kind of chorus, in Victorian black and stove pipe hats, giving us stylised and choreographed snippets of Dickens’ evocative prose to link the staves of the story.

Central to the story, obviously, is old Ebenezer Scrooge. This year John Simm wears the cloak with an easy assurance. Not so much fearsome but more brooding. Beneath the initial rancour, one can glimpse a sensitivity that Simm brings that could almost excuse his forbidding nature; amplified by the flashbacks to his childhood at the hands of an abusive, debt-ridden father (an impressive Mark Goldthorp, who doubles as Marley’s ghost). Forgiveness and hope are essential strands in the narrative, and we understand how those hard done by, at Scrooge’s hand, manage to keep hold of this precarious quality. Juliette Crosbie’s Belle encapsulates this with a sharp and, at times, heart-rending portrayal of Scrooge’s lost love.

The three ghosts of ‘past’, ‘present’ and ‘yet-to-come’ are more mischievous than menacing in their matching patchwork cloaks. With the quality of a Shakespearian fool, they each lay open the painful truth Scrooge has spent a lifetime avoiding. In Jack Thorne’s imaginative adaptation, Scrooge’s little sister, Fan (Georgina Sadler) who died in childbirth, haunts him as the ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. An impassioned dialogue over Scrooge’s own coffin is a deeply moving moment. Our hearts break at other times, too. When Scrooge watches himself as a young boy he wistfully proclaims, “I don’t want him to become me”. A pause. “I want him to love”. Those simple four words are a pivotal point, the epiphanic moment that assures us he has reached the turning point. From then on, our own spirits are lifted to the roof; accompanied perfectly by the music that slowly swells from a plaintive a cappella solo voice to a sumptuous choir. Cut to black. A few seconds of pure and thick silence, and we are back in the present.

We are constantly and fully immersed in the story, whether sitting in the balcony, alongside the thrust of the playing space, or even on the stage itself. Director Matthew Warchus makes full use of the auditorium, resulting in a theatricality that cannot be faulted. Sparse yet evocative, we feel we are on the cobbled streets outside, with Rob Howell’s empty door frames made solid by Simon Baker’s ingenious sound design. Hugh Vanstone’s lighting is the icing on the cake (the brandy on the pudding) that adds the final magical flourishes. Simm’s transformation of character on Christmas morning is filled with a boyish ecstasy – a joy that we share watching this production. It is an evening of pure magic. Momentarily, the show slips out of character and flirts with pantomime – complete with chutes of sprouts and a low-flying turkey on a zip-wire. But the enchantment is swiftly restored. Joyous, evocative, atmospheric and spirited, “A Christmas Carol” is a tradition that has survived the past and will live long into the future. The Old Vic’s seasonal offering joins that tradition – and is the perfect Christmas present.

A CHRISTMAS CAROL at the Old Vic

Reviewed on 20th November 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Manuel Harlan

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE REAL THING | ★★★★ | September 2024

MACHINAL | ★★★★ | April 2024

JUST FOR ONE DAY | ★★★★ | February 2024

A CHRISTMAS CAROL | ★★★★★ | November 2023

PYGMALION | ★★★★ | September 2023

A Christmas Carol

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page

★★★★

“Each performer reveals the layers of these complex characters with a skill that stretches beyond the mere words on the page”

Can you separate the artist from the man? Now there’s a question. One that has been around for a very long time, but becomes more pertinent as time progresses and attitudes advance. John Logan addresses this in in his cutting-edge and challenging new play “Double Feature”. Although Alfred Hitchcock is only part of the story, he is the one that pulls focus, morphing from idol to vindictive sexual predator in the space of ninety minutes. It is perhaps dangerous territory to tread, but thrilling to watch. So long as you are prepared to be discomfited.

It is 1964 and Hitchcock, at his zenith as the world’s most celebrated filmmaker, has invited his muse and leading lady, Tippi Hedren, to his cottage on the Universal lot to ‘rehearse’. Meanwhile, in 1967, the young film director, Michael Reeves, is attempting to cook for, and mollify, veteran actor Vincent Price in his Suffolk cottage. Two continents and three years apart the stories are intermeshed with echoes and parallels that overlap like twisted limbs in a fierce, four-hand wrestling match.

Jonathan Kent’s imaginative staging splices the action together seamlessly, beautifully capturing Logan’s dramatic device of running the two stories simultaneously. All four characters are onstage throughout; one couple retreating to the shadows like ghosts in limbo during the moments when the lights are focused on the other pair. Yet there is an invisible cord that pulls all four together which tightens each time we cut from one scene to the next.

Both relationships are at a period of crisis and the cast capture the requisite power struggle and dynamics. Ian McNeice is an affable, charismatic titan as Hitchcock. His initial, almost cuddly persona rapidly melting into sinister monstrosity while Joanna Vanderham swings in a completely opposite direction. Her obsequious Tippi Hedren, pushed to the very edge of humiliation fights back with a master stroke performance that will have every #MeToo advocate cheering from the rooftops. Jonathan Hyde, as the understandably cantankerous Vincent Price, toys with his ‘new-kid’, arthouse director, wielding his experience and superiority like a piece of string to an overwrought kitten. Rowan Polonski brings out the multifaceted Michael Reeves with consummate skill, eventually winning Price’s respect. Each performer reveals the layers of these complex characters with a skill that stretches beyond the mere words on the page. Polonski, in particular, bringing out the tragic irony of a man who would be dead less than a year later.

This might not be to everyone’s taste, and the insider knowledge often threatens to overshadow the general appeal of the play. And we sometimes feel that Logan is writing for himself almost as much as for his audience. It is, however, compulsive viewing. As the scenes overlap, so do the notions of life imitating art. The two storylines portray the sometimes hidden and dark process of creating art, like a ferocious tennis match in which the unseeded has as strong a backhand as the ace server. It does well to keep the play within a short, one act time frame, concentrating the drama instead of overstretching the concept. Never becoming too earnest there are plenty of moments of humour in this unashamed and unflinching glimpse behind the scenes. The real winner, in the end, is the audience.

Tag Archives: Hugh Vanstone

A CHRISTMAS CAROL

★★★★★

Old Vic

A CHRISTMAS CAROL at the Old Vic

★★★★★

“an evening of pure magic”

A CHRISTMAS CAROL at the Old Vic