A few weeks ago, I came across a reference to Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol in an unlikely place. The book was one of Dr. Raymond A. Moody Jr.'s volumes on near death experiences, and the mention, if I remember it correctly, was little more than a note suggesting that what Scrooge experiences in the classic Christmas tale is a bona fide NDE.
After all, Scrooge participates in at least two of the basic features of NDEs: he sees his life in review, and upon his return to ordinary existence, he resolves that the best life plan is to love other humans. Of course, Dickens never tells us that Scrooge was clinically dead during his experiences with the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future, and other features of NDEs — the dark tunnel, the Being of Light, the availability of all kinds of knowledge — don't seem to have turned up in Ebenezer's transfigured night.
Still, the suggestion is a resonant one. Why shouldn't we imagine old Scrooge on a gurney, electrodes pasted to his scalp, an EEG machine showing a flatline, while in another realm he's learning, as W. H. Auden put it, "We must love one another or die"? If Rent can re-imagine La Bohème as a rock musical, why not A Christmas Carol for the 21st century?
Unfortunately, that doesn't describe Jacob Marley's Christmas Carol, currently showing at American Stage. The play does offer some fine things, it's true: excellent acting, clever special effects, a little humor, some unexpected plot devices. But for the most part this Carol is so tied to the original, so reluctant to modernize or otherwise transform Dickens' classic, that even its boldest note — the main events of the story seen through Marley's, not Scrooge's eyes — eventually loses our interest.
That might not be true for children, though: This show is magical and manic enough to keep an 11-year-old fairly dazzled. I recommend it to pre-teens, therefore, and to anyone else who's missed the last few decades of Carols on stage, film and video. If you haven't been around long, if you thrill at a fog machine filling a stage with white mist, you won't want to miss it. But if you're a grownup, watch out: For all its pretensions, this is the same old, same old.
The play tells the story of Marley, Scrooge's partner, who dies and goes to hell. There, a ghastly-looking Record Keeper informs him that he has one chance, and one chance only, of getting out of perdition: He must somehow persuade nasty old Ebenezer Scrooge to reform himself.
Marley resists the assignment; Scrooge is incorrigible, not worth the effort. But eventually with the help of a personable demon called a Bogle, Marley zips over to Scrooge's lodgings and begins his redemptive efforts. As the Ghosts of Christmas Past and Present, he shocks Scrooge into opening up a little. But when Death himself puts in an appearance as Christmas Future — coming too quickly for Marley's purposes — Marley needs to act fast. One false move and he'll be put on a fast coach to the Inferno.
If this all sounds straightforward, don't be fooled: Todd Olson's kinetic staging emphasizes variety in styles of acting, the use of only four performers in 18 roles, and new sound and light effects virtually every few seconds. The acting styles include narration, conventional impersonation and pantomime; and the special effects include projections (stars, a hearth fire, buildings, gravestones) on one backdrop, various whirling lights to suggest dizzying flight, strange sounds, a little traditional Christmas music and the amplified voices of pivotal characters.
Each of the actors has one key role, and each does top-notch work. Michael Dayton is a crusty Jacob Marley — sputtering, cantankerous, yet capable at times of real joy; Steve Zimmerman is Scrooge — angry, sour and a tough nut to crack; the luminous Julie Rowe is a wonderfully funny Bogle — impish, a wisenheimer and hyper-athletic; and Brian Webb Russell is the spooky Record Keeper — a stubborn old accountant with both feet firmly in the crypt.
Oddly, the Cratchit family hardly figures in the play, and there's no Tiny Tim. Key to convincing us we're watching a score of actors are Julie Page's many eloquent costumes, from the colorful period wear of the main characters to the long, dusky cloaks of various Damned Souls.
Abigail Hart Gray's set is something else altogether. This is the weakest part of the production, a nearly vacant space holding three lecterns on two platforms, with two pale walls behind them that look held together by masking tape. I can't emphasize enough how much this set detracts from the play; devoid of color and shape, it also seems to sap color and shape out of the acting, and, for that matter, out of the whole production. I've seldom seen a less felicitous environment at American Stage.
But even the space can't distract from the high point of this Christmas Carol. That comes late in the play when one of the characters looks at a loving family and sees shining golden cords connecting one person to another. Of course, that cord is love, and love is the real theme of the holiday season, and the point of Dickens' original story.
When it's center stage in Jacob Marley's Christmas Carol, the play needs no justification.
Like the Song of Songs says, love is strong as death.
Dr. Moody — and Mr. Dickens — would surely agree.
Home At Last
After over a year of searching, Acorn Theatre has finally found what may be its permanent home.
According to artistic director Levi Kaplan, Acorn will move on Dec. 1 into a 3,000-square-foot space at Centro Ybor, just under the Muvico movie theaters and behind Victoria's Secret. Kaplan says that the space will be converted into a black-box theater seating about 75, and a rehearsal area that one day may become a second stage.
Kaplan says that Acorn's next show, You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown, should open in the new space next February.
Acorn's lease agreement with Centro Ybor is for two years with the option to renew, says Kaplan. But because the theater is renting the property at a significant discount, it may have to move out if a full-price renter comes on the scene. But in that case "they will relocate us to another space within Centro Ybor."
"Centro Ybor is being fantastic," says Kaplan. "One of the problems we're running into now is covering some of the deposits to people who are not quite as sensitive to the needs of a theater company, such as TECO … We're trying to get them to help us out, but right now they're looking at us as any other corporate commercial entity."
Prior to finding the Centro Ybor space, Acorn had been an itinerant company, producing at Hillsborough Community College's Ybor Campus, Tampa Prep High School and the Galaxy Center for the Arts in St. Petersburg.
This article appears in Nov 23-29, 2005.