We need this ‘Christmas Carol’ more than ever
Ebenezer Scrooge always has been as solitary as an oyster. But amid the dark magic of the Broadway incarnation of “A Christmas Carol,” playing at San Francisco’s Golden Gate Theatre, his self-imposed exile from humanity feels particularly harsh and cold.
Though Dickens’ critique of capitalism feels timeless as ever, the notion of a man who never once considers the good of society feels especially relevant in the COVID-19 era. The cruelty of this Scrooge goes beyond the mere worship of money.
So formidable is Francois Battiste as the old miser that when he declares that the poor might as well die and decrease the surplus population, you know he’s not just cantankerous old skinflint. He’s deadly serious.
It’s one of many chilling moments in this starkly beautiful staging, which is framed by hanging lanterns shining from the ceiling like stars in an inky black sky (lighting by Hugh Vanstone and sets by Rob Howell.) Originally conceived by Matthew Warchus (“Matilda”), the Tonywinning production is directed by Jamie Manton.
This Scrooge feels enshrouded by a deepening gloom as the London fog swirls about him and the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future go about their appointed hauntings.
If some productions soften the edges of Scrooge’s bitterness and cynicism with comedy, this insightful staging, which began at London’s Old Vic Theatre, leans into the anger behind the penny pinching. There’s also a backstory digging into the abusive drunkard of a father (Ben Beckley) who doomed him to a joyless life.
Still, this incisive staging never lets the cheapskate off the hook for his churlishness. There’s no faint twinkle of glee in Battiste’s eye as Scrooge. He isn’t just a lonely old man. He actually revels in being an outcast.
In another bold twist, most of the ghosts here are steely women who show him the errors of his tightfisted ways without mercy. Still, he fights his redemption tooth and nail. He would rather dwell in the darkness of his ignorance than open his eyes to his failings. That obstinacy gives this “Carol” its unsettling sense of social realism.
No matter how feisty his love interest Belle (American Conservatory Theater alum Ash Malloy) may be and no matter how charming his sister Little Fan is (another ACT alum, Monica Ho), you begin to doubt the arrival of a happy ending as Jack Thorne’s taut adaptation barrels forward with ferocious speed.
Some “Carols” milk every sentimental moment, shamelessly soliciting our tears. This one resists all schmaltz, even in the tender interludes with Tiny Tim (Charlie Berghoffer IV and Gabriel King alternate in the role.) Many beloved scenes, such as the Fezziwig
ball and Fred’s Christmas party, are boiled down to vignettes here, but the sparseness feels appropriate for this yuletide ritual.
At the same time, the women’s roles, from Belle to Fan, have more heft and force than they usually do. Belle emerges as the star of her own life story, not just a bit player in Scrooge’s journey to epiphany.
The emotional depth and rigor in this staging, holding back on the heart tugging early on, pays off in the gloriously extravagant final tableau as Scrooge finally succumbs to his tearful redemption.
Snow falls from the rafters, baskets of fruit descend from the balcony and a roast turkey flies down a zip line. By the time the hand bells start chiming and flakes are fluttering on our eyelashes, the spirits have worked their magic indeed. Like Scrooge, the audience ultimately can’t resist the restorative power of community.