This week I went to see Charles Dicken’s 1843 A Christmas Carol at the Old Vic theatre in London and the most traditional thing about the production was the Old Vic. There were so many departures from the original story that it resembled rush hour at Clapham Junction, and I even began to wonder whether I had missed great swathes of the novella when I re-read it just six months ago.
In this woke version of A Christmas Carol, we learnt that Ebenezer Scrooge was actually a victim. We discovered that his anger management issues were a result of bad parenting, or specifically, a result of a bad father who never loved him. At one point, an actor playing a white-haired old man wandered onto the stage and demanded money from his son, something which I am pretty sure did not happen in the novella.
Scrooge’s brief love affair with Mr Fezziwig’s daughter Belle was made central to the production. This plotline was shoehorned into the story using a shmaltzy scene in which Belle, acting as Scrooge’s care professional, talked him through his life choices and discussed his mental health and wellbeing. All he needed, it seems, was a bit of life coaching. Later, Scrooge’s sister Fanny, resurrected from the dead, told him that he had become a miserable old miser because he had not experienced the love of a life ‘partner’. Yes, she used the word ‘partner.’ For a moment, I thought that the scriptwriter was setting up the audience for a clever gag about Ebenezer’s business partner Marley, but sadly this was not the case.
Considerable artistic license was taken with the three spirits who visited Scrooge throughout the night. The Ghost of Christmas Past was benign little old lady with a tight bun, a small shopping trolley and a Scottish accent. The Ghost of Christmas Present was a sassy black woman in sunglasses who announced, in what appears to have been an attempt at humour, that she had always wanted to be called Brenda. Dickens’ most terrifying spectre, the Ghost of Christmas Future was substituted with his sister, the Ghost of Chatty Fanny. For some reason, the director chose to downplay the supernatural aspect of the story, which is a great part of its appeal, instead focusing on the worldly and material. Talk about staging and lighting opportunities missed.
Finally, Tiny Tim was played by an actor whose performance was mediocre at best. Nonetheless, he received a standing ovation from the audience who applauded and whooped as if the child actor, who happened to be black, had overcome insurmountable racism to get to where he was. At least he was tiny. In this age of woke theatre, we must be thankful for small mercies, I suppose. For a non-progessive version of Dickens’ classic, you’d be better off re-watching the 1992 version of The Muppet Christmas Carol starring Michael Caine.
