★★★★☆
‘Tis the season once again to enjoy festive films, A Christmas Carol being a personal all-time favourite of mine. Charles Dickens’ 1843 novella struck a chord with Victorian audiences, exposing the poverty yet sense of community thriving in the working class, and the stone-hearted ignorance of the upper class. It’s a tale as old as time, retold across numerous movies, musicals, plays, television shows and animations, most memorably by Disney with the Jim Carrey animation and Muppets adaptation. Leeds Playhouse’s production has been performed multiple times over the years to various audiences at different scales and capacities, this year’s being the most ambitious to date.
A Christmas Carol follows the story of the miserly Christmas-hating Ebeneezer Scrooge (Reece Dinsdale) as he’s visited by his late colleague Jacob Marley (Obioma Ugoala) who forces him onto a journey of self-reflection. Visited by the ghosts of Christmas past (Bea Glancy), present (Claudia Kariuki) and future, learning human kindness from the lively but ill-fated Tiny Tim and his jovial nephew Fred (Danny Colligan).
In a fascinating change, adaptor Deborah McAndrew and director Amy Leach seamlessly shift Dickens’ London centric plot, reframing it within the 19th century Yorkshire wool industry, with a backdrop of factories, farming, and mining. Scrooge’s profession shifts to match this, subtly shifting from investment banker and merchant to the owner of a woollen mill, still working his staff to the bone. Accompanied by Yorkshire dialect and several geographical references, the show effectively cements itself in this new location. It’s an unexpected and refreshing change-up, and best of all, it couldn’t be more quintessentially Northern.
Admittedly, a couple of the initial line deliveries felt a little exaggerated, but after a few minutes, this subsided and audiences could really sink into the dark Dickensian world with its mixture of turmoil and whimsy. Like the novella, there’s plenty of quips and witty humour at play, with some new additions such as the ghostly crew’s mischief before Marley’s appearance and a few fun Northern colloquialisms.
Reece Dinsdale’s Scrooge is snarling and grumpy, removed from the hyper-stylised animalism of some adaptations but equally as covetous and cruel especially in contrast to the slew of quirky characters from Tiny Tim and nephew Fred (Danny Colligan), to the chittering bubbly charity workers. His eventually joy-filled transformation is marked by numerous sorrow-filled outbursts and multiple moments of reluctant merriness.
While there’s many musical adaptations of A Christmas Carol, this one sits in a unique position, not quite fitting as a musical nor a play, but rather a play with music. The multi-rolling ensemble performs several engaging numbers throughout the show, with accompanying actor-musicians bobbing in and out the scenes (albeit a little infrequently). The first song, while a little tricky to pick out some of the fast-paced verses, was menacing and mechanical as Scrooge’s factory was established. The remaining score was a mixture of revised Christmas carol classics, haunting soundscapes, and merry inventions; Fezziwig’s dance, the ghost of Christmas Present, and the finale number particularly shining as elaborate festive ear-wigs. Frankly, I enjoyed its in-adherence to categorisation, grounded in play-like action, yet brought to life with music; songs capturing the air of festivity that Scrooge slowly warms to.
Hayley Grindle’s sets and costume designs perfectly capture this harsh Victorian world, opening with grinding gears, whirring wheels, entangling looms, rising smoggy chimneys, and snow-coated metal platforms. Sets alternate with prop-changes, looms and factory signs replaced by giant clocks and writing desks, dining tables, colourful banners, a joyful Christmas tree, a family fireplace or a luxurious chair accompanied by a giant four-poster bed.
The nicely replicated period attire is blown out of the water by Grindle’s variety of gorgeous ghostly designs. Jacon Marley’s drab suit, greyed dreadlocks and entangling chains is spine-tinglingly spooky. Sets are lit wonderfully by Jai Morjaria, who creates a magical landscape.
Obioma Ugoala’s performance here is gripping with traumatised screams as he’s resurrected as a ghost, and a hint of tenderness in his sorrowful meeting with Scrooge.
The candy cane wielding Christmas Present’s bow-like shimmering emerald gown, glitzy necktie, and her accompanying human-bauble chorus line were spectacularly festive, bursting into the scene with a literal bang before slowly losing momentum as the night draws to an end. Christmas future was a real surprise… a stage sized puppet with draping fabrics and cold elongated hands coldly looming over Scrooge accompanied by hellish red floor grates later converting into gravestones.
In contrast, Christmas Past’s design is a little underwhelming with a bonnet and rings of light, but I appreciate how tricky it is to replicate a being of light in an aesthetically pleasing yet grounded and Victorian themed manner.
The show’s most ambitious and engaging element is its seamless inclusion of sign language, uniting the story’s themes of community with the Playhouses’ creativity to form the most unique and accessible theatrical experience I’ve come across to date. The Cratchit parents played by Stephen Collins and Nadia Nadarajah communicate mostly through BSL, sometimes translated by other cast members, other times left for audience interpretation. Additionally, the rest of the cast often speak and sign simultaneously, with some of the songs including sign language in their choreography. It makes room for multiple poignant and unforgettable moments.
Leeds Playhouse’s A Christmas Carol is a frivolous festive feast, effortlessly integrating hearty music, singing, good humour, and its punchy Yorkshire theming into a timeless classic. Anyone that watches this production is sure to exit “as merry as a schoolboy” and “as giddy as a drunken man” with its heart-warming message and frivolous designs.
Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol runs at Leeds Playhouse (Quarry) until January 17.
Photo: Helen Murray



