The Toronto Theatre Review: The Three Ships Collective/Soup Can Theatre’s A Christmas Carol

By Ross

As Christmas approaches, there is always a gorgeous gaggle of retellings of this holiday classic, almost to the point of oversaturation. There are numerous television options from the legendary 1951 “Scrooge” starring Alastair Sim (the B&W version only, please, if I may say so. Not the colorized version), through the most wonderful 1992 “The Muppet Christmas Carol“ which is just plain joyful, all the way to the 2019 FX magnificent and dark gothic adaptation series of “A Christmas Carol” starring Guy Pierce. All are excellent in their own way, shape, and form, although I generally have a leaning towards the darker versions as I’ve grown older. I recently saw a sweet pantomime version at the Shaw Festival a few weeks ago, which was fun. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to experience another jolly telling with carols and jokes, so I went in not exactly sure I was in the right head space for another.

Sometime in October for Nuit Blanche, as we wandered around Toronto for a night of art viewing (and I really mean a full night, as the event starts at 7pm and ends at 7am the following day, and we were up walking and walking until we crawled into bed at 5am exhausted but thrilled), my guy and I noticed that there was a theatrical presentation of Edgar Allan Poe’s writing that was taking place leading up to Halloween at the historical Campbell House Museum. That thought sounded like an amazing thing to do to get us into the spirit, so I reached out and introduced myself.

That production and its scheduling didn’t work out time-wise, but I was pleased as holiday punch when Soup Can Theatre reached out and invited me to their celebrated Three Ships Collective’s immersive and award-winning production of Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol. There was no way I could resist. The production was returning for its fifth year, aimed to enchant and dazzle us all and usher us into this festive season most spectacularly. And I felt truly blessed to be able to get into the Campbell House Museum for the production’s last performance of their acclaimed and sold-out 2023 holiday season run.

Set in the charming and picturesque Campbell House Museum – a staged historical house turned into a well-regarded museum that I have always wanted to visit located in the heart of downtown Toronto – The Three Ships Collective production, with the support of Soup Can Theatre, is a surprisingly meaningful, superbly performed, and engaging retelling of this Victorian England tale. Played out by a stellar cast determined to draw us in and guide us through, this unique creation, written to perfection, pulls us in, gently and with care, finding emotional truth inside a tale we all know almost too well. It’s been decades since I actually read the story, so I have a hard time knowing exactly what this production, penned most tenderly by playwright/assistant director, Justin Haigh (Spoon Vs Hammer’s Behold, the Barfly!), did to the text to create such a captivating and fluid retelling. Yet some aspects seemingly have been changed and altered, I imagine, to fit the confines of this gorgeous historic house and to bring it all together.

The production, directed cleverly by Sare Thorpe (Soup Can’s Heretic), stealthily leads us through all of the museum’s well-cared-for rooms, gesturing us to follow the miserly Ebenezer Scrooge, wonderfully embodied by Thomas Gough (Hart House’s The Crucible). He bah-humbugs the day away with cold detachment, that is until he is visited by some beautifully reinvented ghosts who deliver him carefully and thoughtfully through a much-needed journey of redemption. Passing through a series of well-crafted scenes and rooms, courtesy of some fine work by production manager/music director/assistant producer, Alecia Pagnotta (Guild Festival’s The Red Priest…), costume/prop designer, Rose Tavormina (RISE’s Personal Pandemic), assisted most diligently by stage manager Scotia Cox (b current/Theatre Passe Muraille’s X and Da Spirit) and assistant designer/assistant stage manager, Claudia Matas (Randolph School’s UrineTown), the story is brought to life in a remarkably simple and straightforward rendering that elevates and illuminates the tale with unexpected heart and care.

Beginning in a stark office space, we are seated and instructed about what will transpire before us. We watch a hard-working Bob Crachett, played delicately and tenderly by Jesse Nerenberg (Shakespeare BASH’d’s Hamlet), engage in his work with diligence as he tries to warm his hands against all odds in the coldness. That chill lives in the air, emulating from the heart of Scrooge who makes his sharp entrance from behind. But first, just like Scrooge will soon also experience, we become acquainted with the compelling and handsomely engaging ghost of Jacob Marley, Scrooge’s recently deceased partner, played with clever fun by the devilishly good and charming Nicholas Eddie (Deadbeat’s A Plague Upon the Doctor’s House). Towering over us all, his engaging smile and ghostly presence will be our guide as we step into this carefully constructed story. He teases us onwards, pulling us forward into each of the original scenes and characters that make this the most unique re-imagining of this beloved holiday tale I have yet to see, or walked through.

With the arrival of Scrooge’s festive nephew, Fred Scrooge (who also plays father Augustus), handsomely portrayed by John Fray (safeword’s Turtleneck), his joy of the festive season sets this tale emotionally floating forward, heralded in and guided by Eddie’s Marley. The story systematically unfolds in room after room, boldly re-inventing the tale to fit the space and the spirit with some very insightful reconfigurations. I did miss the tender attachment that Scrooge has with his sister, a character not seen here, which took away a bit of the sad disconnection context with nephew Fred, but the actors make up for it with their thoughtful interactions.

Filled with a mirthful and macabre collection of magic and music, courtesy of composer/music director Emeritus, Pratik Gandhi (Soup Can’s Love is a Poverty You Can Sell), this adaptation of Charles Dickens’s tale unwinds the well-known journey with an expert’s ease. It reforms plot points in unique and captivating ways, embracing trauma and recasting ideas of love and loss. And thanks to Haigh’s superb script, the immersive Christmas Carol flows just beautifully from room to historic 1822 room, fulfilling its task spectacularly and carefully. All of the cast deliver thoughtful and engaging performances that draw us in emotionally, especially the carefully sweet Cratchit family, headed by Nerenberg’s Bob and his loving wife, Emily Cratchit, played powerfully by Renisha Henry (“BLK: An Origin Story“) – who also does a lovely job as Mrs. Fezziwig, standing engagingly beside the wonderful Luke Marty (TSC/CAA Mirvish’s God of Carnage) as the joyful Fezziwig (and Barleycorn).

There are some new characters, like the lovely Briony Merritt (The Lakeside Players’ Shanty Show), as the desperate soon-to-be evicted Lydia Berryman whose traumatizing encounter with the cold-hearted Scrooge gives added contextualization to his abhorrent character, reminding me of that horrifically well-done scene in Guy Pierce’s Scrooge. It’s disturbing to watch Gough’s Scrooge approach Merritt’s Lydia with that cold hard stare, and even though the scene shifts quickly, the smell of cruelty hangs like smoke in the chilly air. That is until Marley ushers in visitation number one, the angelic Ghost of Christmases Past, beautifully portrayed by violinist Manon Ens-Lapointe (Guild Festival’s Pygmalion), who takes us onward and upward, stopping first for a touching encounter with the newly re-crafted father of Scrooge, Augustus. (Fray). This telling doesn’t cast the man as the cruel and detached father figure he is in most depictions, but more about a man brought down by the world and about to be thrown into debtor’s prison because of his inability to succeed financially. It’s a terribly touching interaction, as created here, and it adds a whole different layering to Scrooge’s obsession with the accumulation of wealth and his tight handedness with money.

One after the other, the ghosts arrive to the ringing of a bell. Second to make an appearance is the Ghost of Christmas Present, played fascinatingly by the gifted Jonnie Lombard (Birdbrain’s Featherhead). They find the formula within to create the heartbreaking cautionary tale with empathy and clarity, but most of all, uniqueness and insight. Their return as the menacing Ghost of Christmases Yet to Come is veiled in tense inventiveness, especially when we are led past a foyer filled with other veiled spirits standing ominously still, waiting and watching us. It’s a sharp creepily fun addition, that fills the air with exactly the kind of energy needed at that turning moment.

The rest of the cast finds all the right notes to draw us in as we go from room to room. Will Carr (Calgary Opera’s South Pacific) as the Young Ebenezer does a lovely job giving us an authentic view of a man on the edge, looking at love and at money with equal interest. And then letting us watch him fall, sadly to the darker side, mainly because of fear and a love avoidance to the gentle Belle, lovingly and playfully portrayed by Justine Christensen (Scrap Paper’s Cannibal); a fall that makes unfortunate sense because of that earlier re-imagined scene with Ebenezer’s father.

It’s that kind of bravery with such a sacred text and storyline that elevates this immersive re-telling and makes it somehow more connective to our modern moment. I was truly surprised when one of the most famous lines, usually spoken by the un-redemptioned Scrooge in that first scene to two men looking for donations for the poor, is transferred most tellingly to a later scene, directed at the newly formed Lydia character. It hits somehow harder there, in that different setting, more personal than when it is typically stated earlier in the first scene.

I had no idea when I walked in, but this production is a holiday gem, utilizing the historic space beautifully and insightfully. Each scene feels strongly connected to the room that is being used, guiding us clearly to a time and place, but mostly to a formulation and a feeling. I would have appreciated (I think) a stronger, more deliberate lighting design, professionally edged in softer more focused tones with a greater use of shadows and an overall sense of darkness and light, but the intimacy and sense of illusion cleverly cover up the limitations and restrictions that probably have been put in place for the use of a historical museum for their immersive production.

Playwright Haigh boldly and thoughtfully adds even a deeper, more tender layer to the play’s final act, disrupting my senses and bringing some surprising tears to my eyes and a lump into my throat. Gough’s approach to Scrooge is thoughtful, giving him a level of cruelty that is not overwhelmingly evil, but somehow burned in by trauma and disconnection. He’s as cold and callous as can be, yet his transition in the final moments rings true, not because it is overly enthusiastic, but because it lives restrained somewhere inside him, cautious but desperate for connection with the people that have been living around him for years, mostly in fear of him. I did not expect that level of emotional connection when I first arrived for the last performance of A Christmas Carol by The Three Ships Collective with the support of Soup Can Theatre. But, from beginning to end, the unwrapping of this precious gift is as good as it can get, especially as it is being presented immersively and emotionally inside the historic 1822 Campbell House Museum.