A CHRISTMAS CAROL
Citadel takes streamlined classic online
While any of us who still have jobs and healthy families are loath to complain about the damp Christmas about to descend, it's also true that fun feels in short supply this COVID season.
Many Edmontonians are finding hope where they can, whether it's baking (even if there won't be much of a crowd on Christmas Day to enjoy the results) or joining the continuous stream of cars trolling Candy Cane Lane, hoping to catch a little twinkle.
Well, another source of light is now available for those who have $40 to subscribe. It comes in the form of The Citadel's new digital production of Dickens' A Christmas Carol, streaming from the theatre's website until Dec. 31.
The two-hour seasonal stage favourite among families and anybody who has ever drawn a breath has been turned into a 90-minute screen version crafted by David van Belle. Directed by Daryl Cloran, it stars much the same talented cast as last year. Rich costumes by Cory Sincennes still grace the spare but evocative set.
While the script has been tightened considerably, there remain lots of 1940s and '50s holiday tunes to lift, and touch, the heart. (Don't worry, the music was recorded under safe, physically distant conditions, with actors lip-synching during the filmed performance.)
A refresh. Last Christmas, Van Belle took this Victorian tale from the grimy streets of London, and set it in a department store called Marley's, sometime near the end of the 1940s. The Second World War is over, but times are tough and the notoriously nasty Scrooge (played by Ted Dykstra, who is fast becoming iconic in the role) takes advantage of that, as ever.
He browbeats the head of the Cratchit family, Emily (Alison Macdonald) — a single mother who has lost her husband to war — into coming to work on Christmas Day to prepare for the sales to follow. He insults his nephew, Fred (Ben Stevens), who pops into the department store on Christmas Eve to issue a dinner invitation. He rebuffs his once beloved fiancé, Belle (played with startling luminosity by Cynthia JimenezHicks).
Yes, Scrooge is ripe to repent when the chain-rattling ghost of Marley (Julien Arnold) leaps from his wardrobe just as the miser is trying to enjoy his TV dinner of Salisbury steak. Here we see a benefit of the technical tricks available in an electronic medium; the fires of hell smoke and swirl terrifyingly from the closet doors as Marley puts Scrooge firmly in his place.
Another digital trick that works beautifully (and is a tongue-incheek homage to Zoom culture) sees the carollers outside Marley's department store harmonizing in eight, physically distant screen boxes until Scrooge shoos them from the scene.
“Dressed up like it's old timey-london,” he sputters, as the carollers disappear. “You look ridiculous.”
The fact that last year was the first outing for this fresh adaptation is an advantage to the creators. Van Belle's tale hasn't yet had time to be firmly lodged in memory; like children who insist on a strict adherence to holiday rituals, we haven't internalized this one enough to kick up a fuss when we see it's not the same.
Indeed, right from the start, the show announces its difference, employing a character not seen in last year's Maclab presentation. The newcomer is a narrator (Edmonton stage veteran Glenn Nelson) who is playing a plaintive piano rendition of O Christmas Tree on an empty Maclab stage when the show opens.
“I miss everything this year,” he says.
In an instant, the narrator acknowledges what we're all thinking this Christmas that's like no other. In doing so, he gives the audience permission to mourn the losses, and allows us to be open to the story that follows. The narrator serves another function, helping to knit together a story that might otherwise feel truncated by the necessity of shortening the show to hold the audience's attention to the end.
There is another advantage to the digital show; viewers know the characters more fully after watching it. Much as the stage version impresses, the screen show gets in tight to the actors' faces. I had a greater appreciation for Dykstra's humorous touches (including his karate stance when faced with Marley's ghost). Seeing Emily up close as she crumples to mourn Tiny Tim had me dabbing my eyes.
There's no denying the loss of the live experience. Watching the children dash about the lobby in their party best and running shoes, the thrill when the house lights are lowered, stuffing bills into the Food Bank donation buckets held by cast members after the show. Just writing about it makes me weep with nostalgia for a time still so close in memory, when the theatre-loving community gathered in celebration.
Comparing the digital to the stage version is neither fair, nor realistic. Without generous donations from Epcor, Capital Power and the Edmonton Community Foundation, the nearly $250,000 production would never have been created. I am grateful for that, even as I can't wait for the stage version to return.
Watch this version, and make it memorable by settling in on the couch with ice cream bars ( just like they sell in the lobby at intermission at The Citadel) and a big blankie.
Cuddle up. Muddle through. Someday soon, we all will be together.
While the script has been tightened considerably, there remain lots of 1940s and '50s holiday tunes to lift, and touch, the heart.