Before a wooden chair and a rumpled raincoat suspended from the ceiling on a hook, an angelic rendition of O Little Town of Bethlehem gives way to a harsh soundscape which transports the action from the workhouses and slavery of Victorian England to the food banks and zero-hour contracts of Brexit Britain: a cacophony of car horns, jarring synthesisers and Neil Armstrong’s iconic quote “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”

The latter of which begs the question: how far have living standards leaped? Same shit different day would appear to be the answer, given that the gap between rich and poor has never been wider, the haves have even more and the have-nots are demonised as “shirkers not workers”. Or in the case of immigrants (and by association refugees and asylum seekers), confronted with threatening billboard vans which ordered “Go home or face arrest”.

I digress.

Guy Masterson, under the deft direction of Nick Hennegan who has adapted Dickens’ festive tale of redemption into a taut 75 minutes, is quite simply spellbinding. Dressed in casual attire, he begins his rapid but never rushed narration in his natural voice and with his body in a state of balance, but as soon as he speaks of the “squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner” his expansive frame clenches into a tight fist. A fitting metaphor for a miser described as “No wind that blew was bitterer than he”.

Relying entirely on Masterson’s undoubted talent as a storyteller – he never imposes himself on the material, but like a fine musician filters Dickens’ dense and descriptive passages through his well-tuned vocal and physical instruments – Hennegan draws upon the simplest of theatrical techniques to powerful effect.

For example, Marley’s nocturnal visitation is characterised by a stark footlight which throws an imposing shadow on the back wall which combined with a faint reverbation and an ominous rumbling by composer Robb Williams recreates what the second spirit calls A place where Miners live, who labour in the bowels of the earth”. The sure destination of Scrooge should he refuse to mend his ways.

But, as we know, an “alteration” takes place and the man who was once described as “hard and sharp as flint” becomes “as giddy as a drunken man”. As was the “small but perfectly formed audience” who marvelled at Masterson’s spellbinding performance as they reengaged with Dickens’ wonderful and timeless tale of redemption.

Peter Callaghan

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *