 | ||
 | ||
                        |
|
 |
|
A Christmas Carol
The start of the evening was strange, but as soon as I found my seat I was whisked back in time to the cold, clear Christmas perfection of Charles Dickens¹ 19th-century London. Carolers in bonnets and capes, velvets and furs, hoop skirts and knickers whirred around the stage in swirls of red, green, rust and gold. Sparkling snow fell from the ceiling. Orange floor lights made fireplaces glow. Even the theater smelled like it should; it smelled of vanilla and spice. Set Designer Robert Blackman and Costume Designer Andrew V. Yelusich spared no expense in the creation of this elaborate illusion, and it worked. Many a kid who left the theater Tuesday night spent the car ride home wondering what a sugar plum was and whether they could get one at King Soopers. But while the lights, sounds, sets, costumes and 38-member cast created a visually decadent splendor, the show lacked a key ingredient: excellent actors. Granted, A Christmas Carol does not offer many opportunities for award-winning Method moments, but there was a one dimensionality to the cast of characters that stifled the weepy warm fuzzies that should linger after a production such as this. In part, I think this was a result of genre ambiguity; this production had several song and dance numbers and the flat, universal good-naturedness characteristic of the musical, but it lacked the singing narrative and loose plot. The production came close to balancing the eerie tone of a ghost story with the warmth of a Christmas tale. But the lack of character development detracted from both, and the space between drama and musical is an uncomfortable one at best. Here¹s an example. As you probably remember, at the start of A Christmas Carol, the ghost of Ebenezer Scrooge¹s old business partner, Jacob Marley, appears to warn Scrooge of the three ghosts he¹ll meet and the important messages they¹ll deliver. Peter Bretz rises from under the floorboards, his arms and legs fighting the long clanking chains that drag across the stage. His ghostly white makeup, tattered clothes, spiky hair and foreboding speech offer an opportunity to scare the hell out of a packed theater house. But Bretz seems more preoccupied with tossing his head and projecting his voice than he does with delivering meaning to his words. With a different musical score and a few small set changes, he could stand in for a cast member of Cats without anyone blinking an eye. Likewise, while Randy Moore grows into the role of Ebenezer Scrooge, his shoddy miming at the start of the show calls attention to falseness rather than creating a convincing new reality. There were some intensely convincing moments in the play. When the aging ghost of Christmas Present enters with his broken windup helpers, the young actors twist themselves into haunting contortions. There are many child actors in this production. Perhaps it is my own experiences as a kid growing up in Los Angeles, but when I watch children belt out ballads and prance across the stage, my stomach can¹t help but do a Ramsey flip. Still, scenes like this one prove how instrumental kids can be in a successful production. And if they have a place on any stage, it¹s got to be that of A Christmas Carol. Here is where Rollerblades are made to look like old-fashioned ice skates and glide across the stage beneath the glitter snow. Here¹s where the turkey brought from backstage actually steams. Some folks think all prisoners should be shipped to a desert island; maybe this is the place where hokey-ness lives. And really, the corny stuff is the strongest stuff of all. When Anthony Powell and Leslie O¹Carroll‹as Mr. and Mrs. Fezziwig‹host a Christmas past, their goofy rambunctious antics create a contagious cheer. So perhaps my criticisms are a bit harsh, but after watching kids ride stick ponies around a stage to Christian tunes so familiar they¹re practically anthems, I strolled beneath LoDo¹s red white and blue lit streets and thought about what it means to be an American these days. Sound cynical? It probably is, but that¹s what happens when you send a Jew to review A Christmas Carol. To have an event considered for the theater calendar, send information including address, dates, times, price and phone number to: Theater Calendar, 690 S. Lashley Lane, Boulder, 80305; fax to 303-494-2585; e-mail to editorial@boulderweekly.com.
|
Christmas waits for no one. So, if you plan to get into the holiday spirit at Laird Williamson¹s production of A Christmas Carol, leave time to park and walk. Otherwise, you will spend 10 surreal minutes in the lobby of the Stage Theater watching Scene I on a large TV monitor.
