12thNight.ca

Troy O’Donnell and John Ullyatt in A Christmas Carol, Citadel Theatre. Photo by Nanc Price.

A Christmas Carol 2025, Citadel Theatre. Photo by Nanc Price.

By Liz Nicholls, 12thnight.ca

On the opening night of A Christmas Carol this past week at the Citadel it started to snow big time; all fall it hadn’t, not really, not till that very evening. And it felt like a stage effect under the streetlights, specially arranged by the theatre (and possibly a little overdone).  Mother Nature as back-up for a big, deluxe, music-filled production that contains both Winter Wonderland and White Christmas.

The clever, quick-witted David van Belle version of Dickens’ 1843 novella that’s returned to the Citadel’s Maclab stage for the seventh year, is the heir to a 19-year-old run of Tom Wood’s gorgeous Victorian era adaptation. It moves one of the greatest ghost stories of all time a century ahead to the post-World War II era, and across the Atlantic, with songs to match. It’s a different kind of nostalgia. And it takes Mr. Scrooge out of his Victorian counting house and relocates him to the proprietorship of Marley’s department store, on Christmas Eve, 1949.

John Ullyatt in A Christmas Carol, Citadel Theatre. Photo by Nanc Price.

Retail at Christmas time? You might even consider sparing a shred of sympathy for Ebenezer the Exasperated. Until you see John Ullyatt as Scrooge, the avenging fury of the bottom line, snarling at his staff, barking at the in-store Santa (“wrap it up!”), firing the employee who didn’t front-rack the colour red, which he points out increases sales by 5.4 per cent “when it’s the primary point of visual contact.”

Repeated viewings of the production, created by Daryl Cloran and directed in glorious dramatic detail by Lianna Makuch, don’t dim my appreciation of the layered and powerful performance at its centre. Ullyatt makes of the story not an improbable overnight transformation but a re-discovery. And it’s the beauty of Ullyatt’s performance, this adaptation (and the one before it), and the production that the story’s ghostly last-minute intervention on Christmas Eve takes Scrooge on a journey, deeper and deeper into … himself. He re-claims the self gradually lost under layers of experience, of abuse, of loss, of grief in the world. And that newly rediscovered E. Scrooge esq. makes for a particularly joyful and funny Christmas morning, in the agile physicality of Ullyatt’s performance.

I found again, and maybe even more this year in Makuch’s production, the scenes at Scrooge’s boyhood tenement and the Fezziwigs’ party float in and out of his memory in a way that might be a dream, fast — am I imagining that it’s even faster and the running time is shorter? — and memorable. Ullyatt’s Scrooge is a watchful observer, at first resentful then amazed, then (and increasingly) stricken by what he revisits and sees out there in the world. The road to enlightenment isn’t paved.

Braydon Dowler-Coltman’s fine performance as the younger Scrooge, starting to gain a footing in the world, is a veritable study, subtle and expressive, in the way that ambition ever so gradually turns toxic. And Patricia Cerra as Scrooge’s lost love Belle (she doubles as the wife of Scrooge’s nephew Fred) is similarly complex, in a pivotal scene when her hope for a love with all the festive trimmings is shut down forever. Oscar Derkx returns to the role of Scrooge’s neglected nephew Fred, ever-hopeful, ever-cheerful, in an appealing performance that sheds a glow on the show’s notion of home, and what it means to be there.

There’s an attention to performance under Makuch’s direction. And it extends beyond the cast of two dozen adults to the 13-member Youth Ensemble, including Breanna Bender (who alternates with Emmy Richardson) as the at-risk youngest Cratchit, who delivers the line that lingers “God bless us, every one.”   

Maia Vinge, Alison MacDonald, Aubrey Malacad in A Christmas Carol, Citadel Theatre. Photo by Nanc Price.

Van Belle’s adaptation does not have the life-and-death stakes of Dickens’ scoriating attack on Victorian capitalism: lose your job and die in debtor’s prison. Mrs. Cratchit (Alison MacDonald, who’s excellent) is a widow and single-mother who’s risen to management at Marley’s. Nope, no Bob. She’s the working poor — no medical benefits, no overtime, no raises, no paid stats — struggling to make a festive Christmas for her kids. I was struck again by the way the adaptation, and Scrooge’s acidic views on welfare, are ready to wrap themselves around our moment here and now, in a year of particular cruelty, bullying and back-sliding. And the double live portrait of the children Want and Ignorance, as products of affluence and entitlement rather than deprivation, remains telling, to say the least.

Troy O’Donnell and Cathy Derkach in A Christmas Carol, Citadel Theatre. Photo by Nanc Price.

When Mr. Fezziwig (Troy O’Donnell) refuses to employ part-time workers and  deprive them of a living wage, you wince. And a sense of loss has a particular resonance this year, with the absence of Julien Arnold, the wonderful actor who passed away last year during previews of the production — in the role of that most ebullient and joyful of employers and hosts, who makes of the workplace a surrogate family. It was Arnold’s particular gift as an artist and a collaborator to create family wherever he was.

John Ullyatt and Jesse Gervais in A Christmas Carol, Citadel Theatre. Phoro by Nanc Price

Where is joy to be found? That’s what A Christmas Carol wonders. And Jesse Gervais’s sensationally funny and extroverted performance as the exuberant Ghost of Christmas Present (and presents), the spirit of showbiz who commits and then some to “the whole Christmas gig,” proposes a generous alternative view of what the world could be. “I don’t teach, baby,” he tells Scrooge, flinging flakes of “Christmas cheer” over everyone in sight.  “It’s all show and tell here!” The Victorian-clad choir instantly breaks into dance (choreographer: Laura Krewski).

Scrooge’s much put-upon servant Mrs. Dilber (Cathy Derkach, who joins the cast for the first time) is amazed, without dissolving into wonder, by Scrooge’s generous new self on Christmas morning. No wonder she leaves in a hurry, slamming the door before he can change his mind.

The central inspiration of Cory Sincennes’ two-tiered set, lighted by Leigh Ann Vardy, which has an onstage loft for the band, is the revolving door at Marley’s — a metaphor for the whirligig of time that’s the arc of the storytelling. In the course of seven years of revivals, the music has increasingly been absorbed into the storytelling. But wistful songs, like White Christmas or It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year, are uniformly attacked at an unatmospheric jaunty clip. And I still find the sound mix a bit crude (heavy weight to the band, especially the keyboards, over human voices).   

In one way, a thrust stage like the Maclab, surrounded by an audience, is the hardest space of all in which to tell a ghost story. In another, it’s particularly on the nose. When Scrooge, rattled by disconcerting noises and ghostly lights, says “who’s there?” the answer is … us, all of us. One of the most memorable scenes of the evening is the reunion of Scrooge and his infinitely generous-minded, cheerful nephew on Fred’s doorstep. “I didn’t know how to be part of a family,” says Scrooge humbly.

And the words of the Ghost of Christmas Present come back to us. “Some families you’re born with; some you just find.” A thought to take with us into 2026.

REVIEW

A Christmas Carol

Theatre: Citadel Theatre

Written by: David van Belle, adapted from the Charles Dickens novella

Directed by: Lianna Makuch

Starring: John Ullyatt, Alison MacDonald, Oscar Derkx, Ivy DeGagné, Braydon Dowler-Coltman, Patricia Cerra, Cathy Derkach, Troy O’Donnell, Jesse Gervais, Breanna Bender, Emmy Richardson, Graham Mothersill, Steven Greenfield, Glenn Nelson, Maya Baker, Christina Ngyuyen, and the ensemble

Running: through Dec. 24

Tickets: citadeltheatre.com, 780-425-1820