Since the moment of its publication in December 1843, A Christmas Carol has epitomized the holiday spirit—a time when goodwill flows like wassail and, as Scrooge's nephew Fred says, "Men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely."
Charles Dickens' classic story of a mean old miser's Christmas Eve redemption after being scared out of his tight-fisted ways by three midnight spirits is the author's most-read and best-beloved work. It's also probably the most-dramatized story that isn't in the Bible, with countless stage adaptations, some 30 movie versions so far, and Scrooge himself (the very name has become a synonym for stinginess) portrayed by everyone from John Barrymore to Jim Carrey, via Mr. Magoo and the Car Talk brothers.
Like The Nutcracker and The Messiah, theatrical versions of A Christmas Carol are perennial offerings on many companies' schedules, revived year in and year out for audiences who consider it a necessary ingredient of their holiday spirit. Three troupes in our area put on annual productions. Hartford Stage's spectacular high-tech staging, 12 years old and counting, features flying ghosts and a hellish pit for Jacob Marley to come clanking out of. The Berkshire Theatre Festival in Stockbridge is in its fourth Carol season with an intimate rendering that involves local children and adults and weaves in a tapestry of carols.
That participatory element is part of the pleasure and appeal of many productions—the feeling of community created by performers and spectators alike. Kate Maguire, BTF's Artistic Director, says, "We do this as a gift to our community. It is a great work, a reminder year after year that we can return to the hope of the human spirit overcoming the miseries of the world."
The community connection is at the heart of the area's newest entrant in the Carol caravan. Premiered last year, Old Deerfield Productions' "very Valley" Christmas Carol takes up residence again this weekend at the Academy of Music in Northampton. The 40-member cast includes the Hampshire Young People's Chorus and the set is framed by a backdrop depicting, not olde London town, but the towers and storefronts of Valley streets. New this year is original music by Hollywood composer Alexander Janko, performed by an ensemble led by archguitarist Peter Blanchette.
For director Linda McInerney, the story carries special significance at this particular moment. "The idea of a man blinded by materialism who finds the light of love is one that has deep resonance now, as we are coming through a time of excess to 'restructure' ourselves by returning to core human values."
She finds one key to the show's evergreen appeal in the fact that "It is not just about Christmas. It is about our archetypal core and mystery as human beings, and our deep need for love and connection. It touches parts of us that have resonated throughout humankind for all time."
Indeed, Christmas as we know it is perhaps the most "multicultural" of all the Christian holidays, a collage of symbols and practices adopted from a number of pre-Christian traditions, from Middle Eastern mysteries celebrating the coming light and earth's renewal to the bearded old Germanic god Odin, a forebear of Santa.
The early Christian church semi-arbitrarily placed Jesus' birthday in late December to co-opt pagan solstice celebrations, including the Roman Saturnalia, a time of debauchery and overindulgence. In medieval Yuletide festivities, presided over by a Lord of Misrule, common folk imbibed the fermented fruits of the recent harvest and showed up on their masters' doorsteps demanding "figgy pudding and a cup of good cheer." The rise of Puritanism put an end to all that (in the 17th-century Massachusetts Bay Colony it was actually illegal to celebrate Christmas) and by Dickens' time the holiday had been relegated to second-class status on both the liturgical and secular calendars.
In his 2008 book, The Man Who Invented Christmas, Les Standiford points out that what Dickens called his "little Carol" almost singlehandedly revived and enshrined the traditions we associate with the holiday. At the same time, it salvaged the author's career when he was about to chuck it in.
In 1843, at age 31, Dickens was the most popular author in Britain, having already enchanted the public with such works as The Pickwick Papers and Oliver Twist. But his last two books had been flops; he was in debt and was seriously considering giving up fiction and moving abroad to become a travel writer. He wagered everything on his idea for "a ghost story of Christmas," even self-publishing the slim volume because his publisher didn't like it.
And the rest, as they say, is publishing—and theatrical—history. Stage versions of Ebenezer Scrooge's life-changing overnight adventures were mounted almost before the ink was dry on the first edition—at least 16 opened within a year of its publication—and by now are in the thousands.
Notwithstanding its title, A Christmas Carol is robustly secular. Its message celebrates the universal virtues of charity and goodwill while condemning the greed and indifference that give birth to the ragged urchins representing Want and Ignorance who huddle around the Spirit of Christmas Present. As a story of one man's redemption, it could be seen as a parable of Christian deliverance from sin and error; but its power lies in its passionate attachment to the pleasures and rewards of this earthly life and the vital importance of human connection.
It's not coincidental that A Christmas Carol has found its most resonant form on the stage. The shared experience of actors and audience in a live performance embodies Dickens' constant theme of community, the common humanity that transcends class and condition. That cathartic gift, wrapped in a story that touches the heart through humor and pathos, music and spectacle, is worth more than any store-bought present.
A Christmas Carol: Dec. 17-20, Academy of Music, 274 Main St., Northampton, (413) 584-9032, www.academyofmusictheatre.com.
Through Dec. 30, Hartford Stage, 50 Church St., Hartford, (860) 527-5151, www.hartfordstage.org.
Through Dec. 30, Berkshire Theatre Festival, East St., Stockbridge, (413) 298-5576, www.berkshiretheatre.org.
The Gift of Theater
Each year, I devote about half my charitable giving to theater companies in this area. As you've no doubt heard in many a curtain speech before the performance, ticket income accounts for only a portion of what it costs to put on a show and keep a company afloat. In these perilous economic times, arts organizations of all kinds are feeling pinched, and the living bodies and technical demands in live theater mean that many stage troupes are feeling it more than most. As you're making your list of year-end gifts, consider putting a season ticket in a loved one's stocking, or make a tax-deductible contribution to one or more of the theater companies you've enjoyed this year. They'll turn your dollars into art."
Updating Cindy
The story of Cinderella has a distinctly Dickensian ring: the poor orphan, demeaned and mistreated by vain hypocrites, whose modest forbearance and innate goodness ultimately bring her a princely reward. One can think of a number of ways of turning this timeless tale into an effectively modern parable, but none of them seem to have occurred to Irina Brook.
Cindy Bella, now undergoing a brief run at Shakespeare & Company, is a pastiche of Rossini's La Cenerentola. It retains the opera's plotline and characters, including the substitution of a drunken stepfather for the wicked stepmother and the addition of a crafty servant who disguises himself as the prince while his master pretends to be a commoner. But the departures from both Rossini and the Grimm Brothers are haphazard, contradictory and without discernible intention.
The ugly stepsisters are narcissistic mall rats but they listen to a 1940s-era radio; the setting is Italian but the stepfather is a Cockney, the prince disguises himself as a Scotsman, and his tutor (the fairy-godmother stand-in) is an Indian guru. Most puzzling of all, in this day, is the careless perpetuation of the princely prerogative. He actually says he's looking for a girl "who would be worthy of my hand."
At almost every turn, Brook and her collaborator, Anna Brownsted, make choices that are either obvious or bizarre. Take the music, for one. Cindy (a gamine Heather Fisch) sings snatches of La Cenerentola's famous aria, "Non piu mesta," while the other characters break into songs like "Puttin' on the Ritz," "It's Now or Never" and even, so help me, a straight-faced rendition of "A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes," from Disney's animated Cinderella.
Like her previous outings at S&Co, Brook's default approach is to make things loud and frenetic. Here she's created the kind of children's theater that thrives on breathless improvised dialogue, frantic chases and shameless mugging—theater that may tickle a kid's funnybone but fails to engage the imagination or say anything new."
Cindy Bella: Shakespeare & Company, 70 Kemble St., Lenox, through Dec. 20, (413) 637-3353, shakespeare.org.
