Old Vic Review: This Mince Pies- and Snow-Filled 'A Christmas Carol' Is A Feast For the Soul

If the enduring spirit of Ebenezer Scrooge lived in a production of A Christmas Carol, it would definitely be the Old Vic that he is haunting. Jack Thorne's adaptation is becoming as much of a central fixture of Christmastime in London – this year is its eighth revival – as Charles Dickens’ novella is cemented within the DNA of the festive season.

It was my first time experiencing this show; I had agreed to go on the promise of high-quality fake snow, a prospect that I – born and raised in a tropical country – simply could not turn down. But what I witnessed was no frivolous piece of theatrics; it is a celebration of love and a delightful reminder of everything that Christmas stands for: charity, togetherness, and love. I came for my own personal flurry and left with a renewed faith in humanity and the Christmas spirit. 

Upon entering the Old Vic, I was fully awestruck, for the auditorium's usual state was nigh on unrecognisable. Lanterns were suspended all over the stage and in every nook and cranny of the house. There they hung: warm, glowing, and reminiscent of the Great Hall in the Harry Potter movies. The layout itself had been fully transformed – a large chunk of the stalls had been cleared to make way for a stage in the middle, surrounded by seats on all sides, with a catwalk that ran down the length of the auditorium and led to the foyer outside.

Juliette Crosbie (as Belle), John Simm (as Ebenezer Scrooge), and the 2024 company of A Christmas Carol. Photo Credit: Manuel Harlan

Throughout the pre-show, the auditorium was alive with a general hubbub of animated chatter and movement, as people and performers greeted one another. En route to my seat, I was offered a mince pie and a satsuma, treats that I clutched tightly in my hands as I manoeuvred around this alien configuration. Yet, for all the chaos that had to be navigated, I could feel a thrum of excitement and festive spirit in the audience. 

Glancing around, I saw families with children (also with mince pies in hand) being entertained by the satsuma-tossing actors, and heard snippets of animated conversation as a jaunty pre-show tune played onstage. Indeed, the Old Vic had brought Christmas Eve to a little corner of Waterloo Street, on a freezing November night. 

As the play began, I felt a distinct warmth creep up in my heart. A Christmas Carol is one of the stories that I used to read with my mother as a child, and watching the classic tale unfold as she remained over ten thousand kilometres away unlocked a deep yearning for family and the comforts of home. For the most part, it was just as I remembered it – the miserly Scrooge, who rejects all affection in preference for money and greed, is haunted by the ghost of his former partner, who advises him to change his ways or remain enchained by them forever (quite literally).

He is then visited in turn by the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future, who show him various scenes from each of these periods of his life in a bid to steer him onto a different path. Eventually, they succeed, and Scrooge is a different man by Christmas morning – charitable, warm, and keen on righting the wrongs that he had exacted on so many.

The company of A Christmas Carol. Photo Credit: Manuel Harlan

Despite the 180-year gap between the original publishing and the present day, this adaptation by playwright Jack Thorne and director Matthew Warchus belies the classic story's age. An especially refreshing move is the casting of three women as the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future (Julie Jupp, Jenny Fitzpatrick, and Georgina Sadler, respectively), plus the depiction of Little Fan – Scrooge’s beloved and deceased sister – as the final Ghost. By turning these three traditionally male-presenting characters into female-presenting ones, I felt a real shift in the gendered power dynamic typical of 19th-century literature that breathed new life into an old text. 

Making Little Fan the Ghost of Christmas Past is Jack Thorne’s most striking choice. Placing a character with such love and warmth in the role of the Ghost who personifies death and stirs in Scrooge the most abject fear brought a whole new level of depth to the moment when Scrooge watches his own desolate funeral, this time with his sister by his side. In a sense, this brought Scrooge’s redemption arc fully back round; his transformation seemed fuelled more by a desire for love in life, rather than a fear of aloneness in death.

Georgina Sadler (as Little Fan) and John Simm (as Ebenezer Scrooge) in A Christmas Carol. Photo Credit: Manuel Harlan

John Simm was captivating as Scrooge, effortlessly mastering the transitions between the moneylender’s mask of harshness and his underlying compassion. Despite his cruel nonchalance to others’ suffering, I came to appreciate how this was a result of him bearing the scars of neglect, loss, and the passage of time. With these combined, Scrooge’s transformation felt well-earned and worthy of the exultation that followed. Helmed by a strong ensemble, scene changes were snappy and seamless, as were moments of choral speaking that introduced an element of descriptive storytelling most befitting of a Dickensian tale.

The production itself is a gift to the senses. It is packed to the brim with old-school theatre magic, bold in its commitment to giving us a good time. Filled with lush orchestrations, carolling (of course), and little moments of audience involvement, one will never be left bored.

Of course, a real highlight of the show has to be the snow. Oh yes, generous flurries of delicate, tactile, melting (but wholly fake!) snow. It descended from the ceiling during a spellbinding moment of pure jubilation on Scrooge’s Christmas morning, falling gently on the upturned faces of amazement in the audience. Hyper-realistic in all but temperature, it dissolved soon after making contact with a surface, leaving none of the sticky, soapy residue characteristic of low-budget machine-churned snow in shopping malls. Combined with the in-the-round staging, it truly encapsulated the feeling of being in a Christmas Market snow globe. As the last note of ‘Silent Night’ hovered in the air, I felt so overwhelmed by a sheer, unadulterated joy that a pool of unbidden tears welled in my eyes. 

John Simm (as Ebenezer Scrooge) and the Company of A Christmas Carol. Photo Credit: Manuel Harlan

A Christmas Carol is the coziest watch for this snowy season. As a classic, it remains a timeless depiction of the importance of kindness, thinking for others, and extending a helping hand to those who need it. Simultaneously, it is simply the perfect show to introduce audiences, young and old, to the magic of watching live theatre, and the nourishment that it can bring to the soul. 

A Christmas Carol runs until 6 January, 2025, at the Old Vic. Inspired by the story, the OV is collecting donations for Waterloo Foodbank at the end of every performance; this annual tradition of kindness has raised over £1.5 million for NGOs working to tackle the issue of food poverty and deprivation since the play's inception.