This atmospheric version of Dickens’s evergreen Christmas morality tale, laced with reworked and reworded carols, deserves its place alongside the multiple other adaptations vying for attention across London. Both nimble and faithful, its main asset is its location.
The oak-panelled, stained glass, 14th century Middle Temple Hall feels Dickens-ier than Dickens, even if its acoustic favours music more than speech. Ben Horslen and John Risebero of Antic Disposition first staged the show here in 2012 and their Scrooge, David Burt, is back having played the part from 2014 to 2019. I’d say they all know what they’re doing.
As adapters and co-directors, Horslen and Risebero stick pretty closely to Dickens’ narrative and emotional sensibility. Burt’s growly, grizzled Scrooge delivers with gusto lines that are intensely familiar but could also come from our current government’s playbook: “Are there no prisons? Are there no workhouses?” His humanity is slowly rekindled by the spirits of Christmas past, present and future, the last of which is genuinely spooky.
But what really distinguishes this production, apart from the venue, is Nick Barstow’s score. He laces favourite carols through the action with new lyrics by Horslen and Risebero. Scrooge’s appearance promises “tidings of humbug and gloom”. The alarming ghost of his dead partner Marley, shoving his displaced jaw back into place, is summoned by a grotesque version of Hark! The Herald Angels Sing, including the line: “Dreadful lips that open wide/revealing rotting teeth inside”.
The sickly Tiny Tim has a pitilessly affecting version of In the Bleak Midwinter as his virtual theme tune. When Scrooge is shown miners and seafarers toiling through the holidays by the Ghost of Christmas Present, they all sing snatches of Silent Night. For variety, there’s even a slice of ominous, Omen-style Latinate chant when Scrooge is increasingly harried by visions in the later stages. All of this works better on the stage than it reads on the page, trust me.
The four-strong band led by Ben Everett-Riley, and the musicians scattered through the cast, play beautifully. But even though Middle Temple Hall saw the first production of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night back in 1602, it’s not a venue that encourages subtle characterisation. Any dialogue that’s not given panto levels of emphasis gets lost. This, and the fusty costumes, sometimes make the show feel like an amateur production that’s been taken over by serious professionals for a bet.
But the arc of Scrooge’s redemption is broadly well done, particularly the suggestion that he lost touch with humanity when he lost touch with the stories as well as the affections of his youth. When the Cratchit family stop talking and start harmonising it’s impossible not to be moved. By the time the cast unites to sing We Wish You a Merry Christmas, rearranged as an a cappella part-song, resistance is useless.
