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If the thought of sitting through yet another production of Charles Dickens’s Yule-time fable sounds about as appealing as a force-feeding of gruel, then fear not. This one comes with a twist: it’s a sort of dramatised telling-of-the-tale, courtesy of the (fictional) Fitzrovia Radio Hour. They’re a company of plum-voiced actors who hark back to a nostalgic golden age of broadcasting when everyone on the airwaves still spoke the Queen’s (or indeed King’s) English tair-ibbly, tair-ibbly well.
The performance opens with FRH member Ernest Andrews (Samuel Collings) apologising for the dingy surroundings of The Vaults. They were supposed to be recording at the nearby Old Vic – unfortunately, a piece of falling scenery rendered both the theatre and FRH boss Stanley de Pfeffel (Michael Lumsden) out of action. De Pfeffel has been playing Scrooge for the past 18 years, and it’s with ill-concealed glee that Andrews explains that in the older actor’s absence he’s been forced to relinquish the role of Tiny Tim and don the coveted nightcap.
And so it all plays out on two layers. We get Dickens’s story, complete with dodgy accents, shoehorned product placement, and sound effects from a shelf full of props such as chains, coconuts and cabbages. We also get – via snide glances and double entendres – a backstory for the FRH, full of flirtation, suspicion and resentment. Plot is thin on the ground – but you really won’t care. Owen Lewis’s light and bouncy production is pure, unabashed entertainment.