Many years after John Aylward stopped making his annual appearance as Scrooge for Act Theater Strawberry Theater Workshop may be the new A Christmas Carol kid in town.
If Fellow Passengers” had a warning label, it might read: “leave your assumptions at the door.” Dickens fans will be delighted by brilliant and committedly-rendered versions of the language (including not only spoken lines but also descriptive passages), but audience members who are looking for something a bit beyond another predictable rendition of the usual holiday fare will be rewarded even more.
I saw a different version of this show two years ago, and wondered what it would be like on second viewing. Then I discovered that each season uses a different cast, set and props. The first version, in 2004, was set in an attic, with the actors wearing contemporary clothes. Two years ago, it was in the basement of a suburban house. Last year, it was in a bombed-out restaurant, possibly in somewhere like Gaza, with the actors wearing military gear. This year, it’s aboard the starship “Ebeneezer,” with the three actors (it’s always just three) wearing white jumpsuits labelled “S.S. Camden.”
The commonality between all these shows is that common everyday objects may be commandeered either as props or, in some cases, even characters. Thus, Scrooge’s cane is a dustpan, one fringed blanket stands in for nearly all the costume changes, and the ghost of Christmas past and Tiny Tim are both played by the same robot. (Spoiler: the robot also plays a Christmas carol.) In the basement version, the kids in the second ghost’s scene were played by some cleverly-twisted pieces of cloth, but in this year’s version, the actors themselves played the kids. Another impressive yet sometimes somewhat confusing commonality is the many roles played by only three actors. The role of Scrooge is tossed back and forth numerous times like a basketball being passed.
Both the role switches and the surprising and creative use of props lend these performances a refreshing note of spontaneity, reminding us that it is the language and its message that ultimately counts. But where will next year’s show be set, one wonders? The trajectory seems to be toward pushing the envelope further and further, with ever more distracting bells and whistles, or perhaps I should say flashing lights, emergency announcements, and unexpected steam.
Remember, Strawshop, this is not a movie!
