Jacob Marley’s Christmas Carol

Reviewed by Holly Bartges

Jacob Marley’s dead. No big surprise since tradition refused to let anyone forget with the year after year repeat of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, all in the name of Holiday celebration.

Suzanna Wellens (Scrooge) and Brian Brooks (Death) in the Denver Victorian’s Jacob Marley’s Christmas Carol.

The Denver Victorian Playhouse’s current production of Tom Mula’s Jacob Marley’s Christmas Carol sheds a bright new light on the “deadness” of Jacob Marley. It’s a breath of fresh air on a tired, well-worn, but well loved story.

Director Terry Dodd, one of Denver’s leading award-winning directors, pushed himself to the outer limits, providing one of his finest pieces of work to date. The well-oiled, well-heeled production screams, “don’t miss”, but chances are if you haven’t seen it by now, opportunities run slim. Running only through the 23rd, there are a few seats available, but only a few.

Stop right here, right now. Call for reservations, then come back to finish this piece. It’s that good, that valuable, and that important.

Dodd’s Jacob Marley’s Christmas Carol plays as a symphony in motion, a choreographed orchestration with four actors of such theatrical expertise sensing each other’s energy playing within it, around it, and through it in breath taking awesomeness.

Old things can become new again.

The four play a variety of different characters and are simply known as Actors, 1,2,3, and 4. However, their characterizations are so well defined, there is no question who they are or why, even when gender is thrown out of the window.

Mula uses a wonderful children’s playtime technique. “We’re going to tell you a story, then we’ll act it out, making up the story and the action on the spur of the moment. (My brother and I use to play this way while doing dishes, even when we thought we were too young to “do” dishes, but not too young to act out our own stories.)

Jacob Marley, however, is anything but a spur of the moment story. Thoughtful, provocative, a symphony in poetry, Marley having been dead seven years, finds himself on the brink of Hell. Nils Kiehn’s portrayal of Marley digs deep into the soul of a once selfish, mistrusting, calculating human being. To say Kiehn’s performance is splendid is an understatement. Period. He digs deep and reaches far handing Jacob Marley on a silver platter to the audience.

Marley finds himself in a dusty, cluttered office run by the Record Keeper, Caricatured by Brian J. Brooks with a firm hand and impish delight, the Record Keeper points out in detail all of Marley’s transgressions. Symbolized by chains and lock boxes Marley must wear, he is given one chance of Hope for Salvation. Given 24 hours, Marley must find a way to turn Scrooge around, or be damned to Hell forever.

Aha! Not as simple as all that: saving Scrooge within 24 hours is one thing. Marley discovers within that time period, he also has to face himself. Whoa! Different story.

Humor always noses its way into tragedy, or a clutched situation. Build the tension, and humor slips right through a locked keyhole every time. Jacob Marley’s Christmas Carol fries with tickling, agitating, unexpected humor.

Even though Marley wishes he had 24 years to cause any affect on Scrooge, whom Marley insists is worse then he ever was, the 24-hour limitation stands.

Fortunately, Marley does not have to accomplish this feat alone. Initially, an unwelcome guest, an irritating unwelcome guest, arrives in the form of a Bogle, a mischievous spirit with issues of her own to work out. The Bogle squiggles into Marley’s comfort zone causing him great discomfort. When she disappears from view, however, he clamors for her assistance.

Rita Broderick’s Bogle interpretation is adorably active, adorably irritating, adorably playful, and adorably serious. No, she won’t do anything for Marley he has to do for himself, but she’ll push him, prod him, taunt him, and encourage him. Sometimes it is difficult to keep the eyes off of Broderick’s Bogle even when she peers from around a corner. Her choreographed spirit and expressive eyes capture attention.

The interaction between Kiehn and Broderick as Marley and the Bogle plays awesome tricks on delighted eyes in choreographed rhythm defining every emotion in existence.

Suzanna Wellens takes on the role of Scrooge with incredible perception. Scrooge, always played by a male actor in grizzled make-up, to project expected “Scrooge-ness”, reveals an honest depth perception through Wellens that very few Scrooge’s actually accomplish. The first reaction to the program notes that Wellens plays Scrooge is “What?” followed close on the heels by “Why?” Wellens’ theatrical expertise knocks the socks off while answering the questions through acute demonstration.

Wade P. Wood’s set design grabs immediate attention. A sepulcher commanding center stage with Jacob Marley’s name glaring in red lights plays a variety of different roles throughout the story, Four uniformed black boxes sit haphazardly before Marley’s resting place. Simple, elegant, startling, the set comes to its own life through Karalyn Star Pytel’s brilliant lighting scheme. Susan Lyles designed the costumes providing a simple, down to earth, casual appearance. Well, the shadowed Black Angel of Death portrayed by Brooks, certainly moves away from casual. For the most part the actors must portray their characters from the inside out. And they do with magnificent quality, characterized color and distinction, keeping the poetic symphony in motion throughout the entire production.

Part of me wants to say to the Denver Victorian Playhouse “Do It Again next year!!!” And part of me wants to say “Oh, please don’t run it into the ground all in the name of tradition”. But this is a Mula masterpiece, a Dodd masterpiece, and a Kiehn-Broderick-Wellens-Brooks-Denver Victorian Playhouse masterpiece.

Run now. Catch those reservations. Midnight is a good time to wrap those gifts. This is one show you really don’t want to miss.