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A Christmas Carol (Susan Elkin reviews)

A Christmas Carol

Adapted from Charles Dickens by George Readshaw & Alex Wilson who also direct

Half Cut Theatre

Capitol, Horsham

 

Star rating: 5

 

Half Cut Theatre has continuously punched well above its weight since its inception in the pandemic panic of 2020. It has a knack of finding outstandingly talented actors and then directing them with remarkable imaginative flair – and this 80 minute take on A Christmas Carol is a fine example of that excellence.

It’s Christmas so audience involvement is de rigeur. What a neat idea to open this four-hander with two actors in neutral white loose shirts silently playing a game of hangman so that we create the “Scrooge and Marley” sign outside Miss Scrooge’s office. There are  several interactive games of this sort, integrated into the action, and it’s good fun.

I’d seen Eleanor de Rohan earlier in the day being brilliant as  Bunny in The Christmas Bunny and Miss Scrooge couldn’t be more different. She is icily, unpleasantly dismissive and somehow the mild updating of the story (references to Waitrose, the job centre, hip-hop and the like) make her seem more chilling and topically plausible than usual. Eventually when we reach the redemption sequence and Miss Scrooge sees the error of her ways, de Rohan’s eyes shine with happiness and glee. It’s a fine performance.

The rest of the story – told with multiple narrators – comes via Tom Briggs, Ellie Bradbury and Eddie Ahrens who play all the other roles. All have stupendous voice skills and mercurial stage presence. Ahrens (who played all the other toys in The Christmas Bunny earlier) is such a fine actor that he simply disappears into each role – from Mrs Cratchit to a delightfully louche Spirit and a lot more. He also provides a lot of atmospheric music on accordion, often along with Bradbury on violin or recorder and/or Briggs on guitar.

All four are good at audience interaction too. A random child is recruited as Tiny Tim and, at the performance I saw, a rather bemused, but clearly chuffed, young lad spoke each line fed to him with gentle confidence – to bursts of encouraging and admiring applause.

There are few props in this show but light is crucial. There’s eerie darkness where it’s appropriate, cast members use hand torches and four illuminated  rods become everything from a fireplace to a pepper grinder. Yes, there really is a lot of  atmospheric originality here.

I have seen dozens of takes on A Christmas Carol over the decades – usually at least one each season. This version is one of the best yet. Get to it if you possibly can.

 

The Christmas Bunny
George Readshaw & Alex Wilson
Music by Eden Treadwell
Half Cut Theatre
Capitol Theatre Horsham

Star rating: 4

This miniature show for the youngest children exudes charm and gentle humour for
every one of its 45 minutes.

The titular bunny has been delivered as a Christmas present to an unseen child
named Charlie. She meets other toys, has adventures with them and longs to be
loved enough to be “real” especially when Charlie moves on a notch and becomes
more sporty – cue for a couple of gentle tennis puns to amuse the adults in the
audience.

Eleanor de Rohan (who alternates with Ellie Bradbury) delights as Bunny, using
every muscle in her face and reaching out to the audience who are required to
practise their lapine attributes, sing songs, throw snowballs and much more. It’s a
warmly inclusive show.

The other half of the two-hander is Eddie Ahrens (alternating with Tom Briggs) who
provides a bossy wooden toy soldier, a growling dinosaur, a coy teddy bear, a
rocking horse and more. His range of voices is impressive and he too is good at
working the audience, especially when he comes out of role to recruit an audience
member to play Nanna. At the performance I saw the man who volunteered, and was
eventually invited on stage, brought his tiny boy with him and it was quite a moment.
And that’s the joy of theatre of this sort. Actors have to be reactive. You never know
what children are going to call out, suggest or do and you have work with whatever
happens. In some ways it’s more demanding than playing Hamlet. De Rohan and
Ahrens both rise to the challenge with cheerful aplomb.

Personally I would have preferred it if the script writers had used grammatical
pronouns rather than the fashionable let’s-show-we’re-woke they/them throughout. And I didn’t care for the voice over narrator but these are minor gripes about very pleasing work.

A Boy Called Christmas
Matt Haig, adapted by Philip Wilson
Music by Tom Brady
Directed by Dale Rooks

Chichester Festival Theatre

Star rating: 4.5

Every year since 2003 Chichester Festival Theatre has turned the main house over
to its Youth Theatre for the annual Christmas show. And the level of achievement, as
usual, is phenomenal with 71 performers aged 10-22 on stage and 25 members of
CFT’s Technical Youth Theatre working behind the scenes. I have said in the past
that CFT runs the best venue-related Youth Theatre (850 members across West
Sussex and Hampshire) in the country and I still stand by that.

This year’s show is a glorious fantasy rooted in the childhood of Father Christmas
with elves, trolls, pixies, fairies and a quest which takes young Nikolas (Devon
Sandwell on press night. – excellent) northwards through Finland towards Lapland
and a lot of danger. Matt Haig’s best-selling novel tells us that, because Nikolas was
born on 25 December, his nickname is Christmas. And Philip Wilson’s stage version
adds a framing device with a story teller which allows for a theatrically spectacular
ending.

The show is beautifully directed and draws fine performances from everyone in the
cast. Standouts include Olivia Dickens (on press night) who puppets Mikka,
Nicholas’s lively, never still mouse friend like a seasoned professional. And she
voices the witty animal with splendid confidence. Daisy Chapman turns in a terrific
turn as the Truth Fairy, singing, dancing and delivering her truths with rapier
precision – and humour. There is also some fine choral and solo singing at various
point in the show.

Ryan Dawson Laight has had huge fun with the costumes for this production. The
massive growling bear with huge teeth and long claws is terrifyingly convincing and
Blitzen the reindeer (Alexander Solly on press night – lovely movement work) is furry
and dignified. And the colours – lots of red – in the big scenes are richly dramatic
against Simon Higlett’s icy set. I don’t know whose idea the northern lights were –
depicted by coloured streamers on rods illuminated by James Whiteside’s lighting
design – but it’s a pretty special moment.

Then there’s Tom Brady’s music played by an unseen, live, six-piece band with MD
Colin Billings on keys. It’s delightful and I was frequently distracted from events on
stage by the sheer imaginative magic of Brady’s orchestrations – especially the
evocative use of cello and clarinet in an enjoyable range of styles.

CFT has again more than nailed it with this Youth Theatre show. Bravo and Merry
Christmas to you all.

Photograph: Ellie Kurttz

Margaret Atwood is sparklingly good company. She’s witty, affable, down to earth and personable. I’ve always sensed this from her novels, short stories and poetry but never more so than in this delightfully engaging memoir published last month (November 2025).

Now 86, Atwood is one of the world’s most famous novelists and she has almost single handedly put her native Canada firmly on the global literary map. I’ve long admired her work especially Cat’s Eye (which I taught to several A level Classes). Surfacing (another A level class), The Robber Bride. The Blind Assassin, Alias Grace and Old Babes in the Wood. Apart from The Handmaid’s Tale, which is an inarguable masterpiece, I am generally less taken with her speculative, dystopian, sci-fi work although that  probably says more about me than it does about her.

So why does she call her memoir a “book of lives” in the plural? Because she has done many different things at different points in her life and been many things to many people. She also contends that every writer has at least two lives: the one they adopt when they write and the everyday one who makes coffee, paints walls, bears children and lives “real” life to the full. And, in my relatively minor writerly corner, I can certainly identify with that.

Born in Ottowa to an entomologist father and a feisty, no-nonsense mother, Atwood spent all her childhood summers, often camping, in the northern wilderness in connection with her father’s insect-related projects – usually government funded. Otherwise Carl Atwood was an academic at University of Toronto. This is familiar information to readers of her novels because much of this way of life gets into them. Reading Book of Lives confirms that Atwood has always plundered her own life experience for situations, characters, issues and problems. A most notable example is the bullying and the dynamics of relationships between ten year old girls which occurs in Cat’s Eye. Yes, she is now prepared to admit because the woman in question is dead, that there really was a “Cordelia” who made the young Atwood’s life hell. I’m not surprised. Even though it’s fiction the writing in the novel is so raw and painful that you know it has to be, in some sense, rooted in reality. Truth is a slippery concept sometimes.

Writing more or less chronologically, Atwood’s richly compelling memoir takes us from assembling a self-illustrated poetry book at age 16 all the way to her state of health today and her determination to hang on in there for as long as she can – thus it spans her 70 year-long professional life as well as her childhood. Had she not been determined to make a career out of writing she would – super bright, of course – have been a biologist. She invents herself as “Peggy Nature” supervising children at a summer camp when she is still a teenager. Decades later, she uses her Peggy Nature skills to clean up a skunk’s skull for her grandson. There are boyfriends and eventually an amiable but lacklustre marriage. Then she meets novelist/bird watcher/cook/traveller, Graeme Gibson, who becomes the love of her life until his death in 2019 while they were in London on a press tour for Testaments.  He had dementia and had been ailing for some time – something else I can empathise with strongly, especially as she, as I did, had to deal with the misery of lockdown hard on the heels of her bereavement.

We meet Atwood’s elder brother and much younger sister – still very present and supportive at the time of writing. Then there are Gibson’s two sons from his first marriage, whom Atwood pretty much takes on, and their own daughter, Jess. We also meet the characters, eccentrics and one-offs who people Atwood’s world and, more often than not, wander thinly disguised into her fiction – along with the mythology, jokes and cheerful insouciance. She spares us false modesty. She is, after all, spectacularly successful. But she wears her achievement lightly

Atwood is more than just a writer. She also has a lot of artistic talent and has often, for instance, illustrated her work or designed posters for the charity work to which she and Gibson were committed. She is also the sort of person who listens to Beethoven while she scrubs the floor. She’s handy in other ways too – interested in clothes, and often makes or adapts them. She cooks as well. All of this too I had long suspected from the novels.

This is a brick of a book: 624 pages. I was, however, sad to finish it because it felt as if I’d been at a hugely entertaining party which I really didn’t want to leave.

Next week on Susan’s Bookshelves: The Librarian by Sally Vickers

 

Beauty and the Beast

Luke Adamson

Directed by Matthew Parker

Bridge House Theatre, Penge

 

Star rating: 3.5

 

This bijou, four hander panto comes with a lot of charm and sits nicely in the Bridge House’s intimate space. It runs the story (not quite the version we’re familiar with) with just four characters, a lot of ingenuity and spares us the doubling most texts would demand.

We’re firmly local too. Belle (Georgina May Haley), a bookish lass, lives in Penge – pronounced to rhyme with blancmange –  Su Mer. The posturing prince (Theo Bracey) lives in a castle in the North Wood. Fifi (Cameron Griffiths) works for the prince and Lady Amere (Cassandra Hodges) styles herself as a magician and tries maliciously to manipulate everyone else. Thanks to Luke Adamson’s video design, we get plenty of scene changes.

Griffiths is splendid as Fifi – camp, knowing and funny. He also alternates falsetto singing with his, presumably natural, middle range tenor  – and it becomes comic. Bracey is good as the dishy but arrogant prince who eventually changes his ways after a spell as the beast. I like, incidentally, the simple way Matthew Parker directs the two transition scenes. It shows you can achieve high drama without high tech.

As Belle, Hayley starts as a shy gauche girl distressed because the library is shut and then develops the character into mature woman in love discussing Jane Eyre with the Prince. Hodges, meanwhile, does a great deal of the traditional maniacal, malevolent cackling.

There are some lovely musical moments in this show. MD Zara Harris has done a grand job although the backing track is too loud in places.  There is for example an attractive trio “Find Your Grail” towards the end of the first half in which Haley, Bracey and Griffiths really bring out the harmonies. And “Tonight My Love”,  a duet sung by Haley and Bracey, is noteworthy for the beauty of his line often being above hers.

The gentle jokes in this entertaining panto frequently send up theatre and panto with asides to the audience pretending to be off script and that always makes for good comedy. And, mercifully, it spares us most of the usual clichéd puns although there is a priceless one about someone unconscious who keeps muttering “chicken tikka” having falling into a korma. Fifi’s love affair with a candle stick does not, however, add much.

A word of praise for Tom Thornhill. He does front of house and stage manages this show. The cast keep referring to him and he often appears on stage: a man who seems to be able to wear several hats at once and do it with aplomb.

This Beauty and the Beast is an unassuming show, pleasingly done and with strength.

Cinderella

James Rushbrooke

Directed by Rory Hobson

Judi Dench Playhouse, Questors Theatre

 

Star rating: 3

 

James Rushbrooke sets Cinderella firmly in the 1980s: a song title or song line in almost every sentence. And he works in a completely original sub plot and plot twist. Usually in pantomime you know exactly what will happen. In this one you have no idea. So there’s plenty of freshness and novelty here.

It’s a colourful show (set by Juliette Demoulin and costumes by Carla Marker) which kicks off with a rap number – which seems to be this year’s panto trend.  And director Rory Hobson makes imaginative use of the aisles and annular playing space created by placing a small block of seating where the thrust stage might normally be.

Bernie (Derek Stoddart – louche, 80s vibe), assisted by his daughter Cindy (Julice Liecier)  is an impoverished launderette owner. They are terrified of the landlady, Gloria von Glitz (Samantha Boffin) and her two appalling daughters (Rory Hobson and James Rushbrooke). Then a personable chap, on a quest of his own – his little sister has disappeared –  falls out of the largest washing machine. Of course Cindy fancies this man she calls Buttons (Adam Watt) but her father needs her to marry money. Meanwhile there’s a narrating fairy (Sally Parker) floating about ubiquitously, narrating in calculatedly excruciating couplets and trying to improve everyone’s lot. And so it winds on …

This is a “community” company so of course some actors are stronger than others. All the principals, however, give pleasing performances and Samantha Boffin, glamorous but not grotesque in animal prints, is outstanding. She lights up the stage whenever she appears. Hobson and Rushbrooke play pleasingly off each other and Tom Wolley has fun with a Prince who is a great deal less charming than he is in Charles Perrault’s famous story. Meanwhile there’s a large, hard working, well drilled juvenile ensemble (alternating teams) ably supporting the action. At the performance I saw Enid Hall was good as Buttons’s missing sister.

There are many clever jokes in this show and puns I’ve never heard before. “Shall we hire a choir? They’re always good investments.” Or “I’m a fictional character so my mind is completely made up”. Unfortunately most such lines were so badly timed that they failed to land – possibly partly because the cast were trying to negotiate a relaxed performance.

The first half is well paced but the second half is too long and drawn out, especially for a “relaxed” audience. Generally, though, this Cinderella is a pretty enjoyable, and potentially very funny, show.

The Nutcracker

 

Written and devised by Clare Beresford, Dominic Conway & Alexander Scott in collaboration with Lakesisha Lynch-Stevens, Caroline Partridge, Edith Tankus and Shamira Turner

 

Little Bulb, originally co-produced by Polka Theatre

St Martins Theatre

 

Star rating: 3

 

A very far cry from ETA Hoffmann’s original story, this 60 minute children’s show seeks to create magic of its own with emphasis on sibling bonding, kindness, forgiveness – and cheese.

A strong cast of five, all of whom were involved in the development of the piece, presents two modern-ish children arriving, with their single-parent father, at a mysterious new house. It is populated (infested?) with mice. And everyone in the audience is co-opted to membership of the musine community.

Clare Beresford leads the cast as narrator and a cackling, menacing Mouse King until she finds redemption and recognises the error of her ways. She’s feisty and full of energy from the “Christmouse” slushy, pre-show songs, when the cast forms a band, through to the piece’s final moments. This isn’t really a musical but Beresford gets a few songs as part of the action and she really is quite a singer.

The other four double extensively with Lakesisha Lynch-Stevens as a pleasing Clara and Dominic Conway suitably boyish as Fritz. Caroline Partridge is less prominent in some minor roles but there’s a fine turn from Shamira Turner as the Sugar Plum Fairy. Not that there’s any dance in this show. Don’t go expecting ballet although there are few Tchaikovsky references in the sound track, along with other music which is often too loud.

Sam Wilde’s set, props and costumes are generally effective and the puppets are nice. Wilde’s spider costume for Caroline Partridge is great fun but does he really think that spiders have only six legs?

I’ve never understood why people who stage children’s theatre think excrement jokes are essential. They are not. The turd scene in the sewer adds nothing to this production.

This version of The Nutcracker is a decent enough show of its type although it’s not likely to set fires alight. I was pleased, however, to see an unusual number of men and boys in the audience. The Nutcracker, whatever form it is presented in, is definitely not a “girly” thing.

The Liar, the Bitch and the Wardrobe

Joshua Bailey

Directed by Sasha Regan

Union Theatre

 

Star rating: 3.5

 

A cheekily irreverent, and often funny, spoof on CS Lewis’s 1950 classic, this show more or less lives up to its strapline: “A Very Adult Pantomime”

Two East End mothers decide to send their two boys into evacuation. Once they reach their destination the boys find, of course, a big wardrobe … Thus this talented cast of four embarks on some outrageous doubling which sends itself up as it goes along.

Joe Pieri who plays Eddie, among other roles, is a camp, half-knowing, overgrown schoolboy one minute and an otherworldly Mr Topless (the faun, naturally). James Georgiou as Peter captures boyish innocence coupled with burgeoning knowledge perfectly. And they play off each other pleasingly.

These boys are passionately in love with each other and the explicit  sex jokes come thick and fast as the Narnia story (witty burst of Richard Strauss every time the word is mentioned) wends its way. Loosely.

Tom Duern and Katie Ball are even better. Both use their physicality to maximum effect and director Sasha Regan rarely misses a trick. Duern is tall and willowy.  Ball is under five feet and they look hilariously incongruous even  just standing side by side. Duern, first as the boys’ richly exaggerated Madam-like landlady, and then as the titular Bitch – not quite a panto dame but close – commands the stage. He is good at embarrassing the audience and thinking on his feet too.

Ball has a gift for funny faces and voices. She is wonderful as the deadpan trolley pusher on a train and later as Arselan, the bottom-wiggling lion, who is definitely not Christ-like here, whatever CS Lewis’s intentions might have been. Fortunately The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is out of copyright. Does she, I wonder, deliberately mime playing the violin the wrong way round or did nobody notice?

It isn’t quite a panto despite its claim although many of the elements are in (“Oh yes they are”).  And there are some strong songs in a range of styles. Eighty per cent of the shows I’ve seen this season have been heavily dependent on rap so it’s good to see one which does something different, especially the hillbilly number about evacuation.

The Liar, the Bitch and the Wardrobe is an amusing, boundary-pushing romp which celebrates gay-ness. There’s a nice twist at the end too. The whooping, excited audience I saw it with gave the impression they could hardly believe what they were hearing fom the moment the lights went down.