‘A Christmas Carol’ review
‘a brilliantly talented group of people made magic happen’
Walkabout’s immersive production of Christmas Carol is at its core an immense showcase of theatrical talent, coupled with lovely moments of audience participation that make for a brilliantly fun day (or night) out.
In the dark of the Fonteyn Ballroom, the audience was invited to have a drink and a chat: a bright colour lit up in the darkness that created tension and intimacy, creating space for a sense of community amongst the audience, whilst still teasing the dark tale to come. Creating atmosphere so sparingly was a constant theme of both the set and lighting deployed so brilliantly by Carrie Cheung as head designer, assisted by Primavera Jones, Tulsi Nambiar as stage manager and Rory Collins as production designer. Many a moment were accentuated by Collins’ skill, creating tension through perfectly placed white lights and haunting clock-ticking soundtracks, aided by Lighting Designer (Lucy Smith) and Sound Designer (Keira Bourgeois).
Elsewhere in the auction house, Raphael Henrion stood out as an utterly hilarious auctioneer, leading us into the drama with pitch-perfect comedic inflections. As we moved into the drama, Cara Crofts, as our utterly charming narrator Charlie, delivered exposition with astute clarity, wide-eyed gravitas, and a beautiful rhythm. Her timing never faltered, and she injected her facial expressions with moments of warmth and playfulness without ever losing a sense of detached cool.
Edward Clark evoked Scrooge’s menacing face and embittered sneer whilst holding onto an assured presence, showing Clark possesses the restraint and raw humanity of a formidable naturalistic performer. As Scrooge was transported through extremities of past and future, I never doubted a single truth each facial expression held. However, whilst the scenes were well written to convey the message of the play, they often fell short of integrating Scrooge enough to give Clark the chance to externalise the grief that has ruined him.
Nell Hickson stands out as an ethereal Ghost of Christmas Past, simultaneously holding the detached nymph-like poise of the ghost whilst never abandoning the subtle rage and cruelty that underlies the spirit’s intentions. Grace Heron was equally brilliant as the Ghost of Christmas Present. Her bold presence and confident delivery held a charming brightness but the subtlest over-tuning of her smile created a tender unease. Heron honoured and continued the complexity that Hickson had imbued the ghosts with, holding the tension between good-spirited teachers and rage-filled tormenters that enables the ghosts to linger on in the imagination hours after leaving the theatre. Finally, Iphis Critchlow tackles the challenge of the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come incredibly well, showing a deep understanding of how to deploy physicality when acting as a faceless figure.
What co-directors and co-adaptors Lily Gilchrist and Harry Threapleton attempt is a profoundly tricky task, and they succeed in creating some beautifully restrained naturalistic drama whilst engaging the wider audience in fun interaction. For instance, a scene where performers cut through the audience was deployed brilliantly for a funeral brigade that carried Scrooge away during the climax; Clark let rip with grief and the whole ensemble marched on uncaringly – a perfectly crafted moment of drama.
However, it is clear the desire to create an entertaining experience often, perhaps understandably, overshadowed the finer emotional beats of the narrative. The message of the play, spelled out in an ending monologue, risked falling flat when Marley’s warning of a similar nature was never really afforded any real gravitas by continually being undermined by humour. Henrion cannot be faulted in his role as Marley - he is a naturally assured and hilarious performer, delivering punchlines aplenty whilst still cultivating a beautiful breathy, haunted rhythm - but he is never really given the chance to channel Jacob Marley’s grief. Gilchrist and Threapleton do show an understanding of how to balance humour and gravitas later in the narrative, in a fourth-wall-breaking reference to copyrights, and when Crofts is used to diffuse tension through humour. It is a shame this balance was somewhat neglected in crafting this aforementioned important scene.
The additional characters offered so much heart. Charlotte Walton deploys searching expressions to convey grief without undermining the sense of the impotent Cratchit she evoked. The whole Cratchit family had immense chemistry and humanity that gave us just enough pathos within a limited run time. Layla Rodrigues held strong as the heart of the play as Tim. Oli Butler as child Scrooge and Peter Cratchit was heartfelt: such ease in evoking warmth marks Butler out as a brilliant performer.
Each cast member is evidently a serious performer committed to imbuing this Dickensian tale with a tender realism. In particular, in the longer duologue between Nemo Royle and Emma Lawley as Young Scrooge and his past lover, both performers display great conviction and humanity to the tragedies of Scrooge’s life where they often felt glossed over elsewhere in the drama. Elsewhere, Nemo Royle is utterly charming in his aquamarine jacket, an aesthetic highlight, alongside Butler’s beautiful plum suit.
A profound, ever-present highlight was the choir with charming harmonies accentuating the mood. Charles Moscrop’s ability to create sophisticated arrangements, where I actively noticed the beauty of the individual vocal timbres in the choir without ever feeling distracted from the action, suggested a skilful and experienced musical director.
This was the takeaway for the whole production – that time and time again a brilliantly talented group of people made magic happen through the smallest gestures, the subtlest lighting shifts, and a handful of perfectly chosen set pieces. A play that serves as a parable of generosity reminded us all how lucky we were to have so many people who are so generous with their own talents.
By Laurence Davidson.