John Simm is one of my favourite actors, so when he was announced as playing Ebenezer Scrooge in the 2024-25 London Old Vic production of A Christmas Carol, I was desperate to see it. Schedules coming up to Christmas Day are always tricky, so I opted for Christmas in January… but would that dull the impact of such a festive offering? No, as Scrooge says, “I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me.” And so, heading to the Old Vic in the rundown surroundings of Waterloo, walking through the crisp wintry air, I felt a wonderful levity and warmth. After all, I was going to see John Simm, someone who Doctor Who fans obviously know as the Master but whose career I’ve been following since Life on Mars.
We were seated extraordinarily close to the stage, so much so that Simm ran past at one point, we made eye-contact with several cast members, spotlights shone into our faces, and we sat aghast as Jacob Marley, on a bungee cord of chains, loomed over us.
The really astonishing thing about A Christmas Carol is how it feels both like an extraordinarily involved and involving serious play and an over-the-top, exceedingly fun pantomime. Everything about it is top-notch. The opening sets the tone as the ensemble take to the stage, house-light still up, and starts playing Christmas songs using hand-bells, smiling at the audience, taking everyone into their gaze, welcoming you into this festive treat. Everything is thoughtful and considered, from the lamps studded around the auditorium to the gorgeous set and sound designs, from the lighting to the touches of humour laced throughout the story. Even the staff at the Old Vic adds to the atmosphere: during the interval, I went for ice cream and the seller was happily chatting to everyone seeking snacks about the story.
The acting, of course, is astonishing: yes, Simm is the headliner, but there’s no one star because everyone in the cast and crew shines. Nonetheless, he is the leading man, and what a glorious Scrooge he makes. He gives a powerhouse performance in a role that, if given to a lesser actor, might be overshadowed by the boisterousness of the ghosts, of the singers, of the general ensemble. He was one of the my favourite actors coming into this show; now, his position is even further elevated.
Sure, some things have been changed, but we’re all very familiar with the original story, so this feels fresh and exciting yet also nostalgic and cosy. And spooky, it has to be said. There’s darkness throughout, but it envelopes you and adds to the power of the narrative. The music, too, intensifies this feeling. It’s all-consuming, expanding that sense of melancholy and joy.
Indeed, as the production ends on 4th January, just before twelfth night, I got a lovely impression of family and intimacy at the close of the play. As Scrooge embraces someone tightly, I thought of how difficult it must be to close such a show — for all the people who worked on it, all those who effectively spent Christmas together, to disperse, never to come together in this way again. That’s the magic of Christmas though: the fact it ends and begins anew next year makes each one so very important, like a capsule of moments shared and locked into our memories forevermore. That, too, then, is the magic of theatre.
By the time Scrooge is rushing around wishing everyone a merry Christmas, as the snow falls all around the auditorium, it’s impossible not to be smiling from ear to ear. You’d need a frosty rime on your head not to feel a sense of elation at its close. A true Christmas present.
These last 12 months, I’ve been lucky enough to see quite a few plays, but A Christmas Carol is one the best things I’ve ever experienced. Christmas in January? This production will stick with me long into 2025 and beyond.
