When it comes to adapting what is, let’s face it, the quintessential Christmas story (well, aside from, you know, the Christmas Story), be it for stage, screen, the airwaves or wherever, one of the prominent questions always falls sooner or later down to whom will take on the mantle of Scrooge.

Comfortably up there with the Scarlett O’Haras, Sherlock Holmes and Jay Gatsbys of literature greats, old ‘Ebenezer is a role that has landed in the laps of such equal performing greats as Alistair Sim, Michael Caine, Patrick Stewart and Kelsey Grammar (oh, and Jim Carrey gave it a go that one time, too).

When stage titan Simon Callow decided to take on not just the iconic miser, but indeed the entire cast of Dickens’ most-read classic, in 2011 with his one-man narrated piece (then again in 2018 with a special TV recording), the plaudits and praise rightly followed, as the timeless genius of the story were allowed to live and breathe through the conduit of one of the Nation’s most gifted thesps.

Fast forward a few years, a pandemic and another bloated, underwhelming screen adaptation or two later (see the dour, oppressive Guy Pearce/Andy Serkis BBC mini-series for a treatise on how not to handle the material), and Callow’s one-man-band of festive treats is handed over to, thankfully, another true great of stage and screen, and allowed to flourish in its self-contained simplicity and profundity.

BAFTA-winner David Bradley – more recently of Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, Broadchurch and Doctor Who fame – not only looks, sounds and feels completely at home reciting Dickens staples, but so too does he prove himself quite the mimic, rattling off a surprising breadth of regional dialects and lilts as he makes his way through this slightly truncated version of the original Christmas Carol novel in a lean, perfectly-paced one-Act treat.

It’s a glorious marriage of performer and material; Bradley spritely, spirited (pun intended) and frequently captivating as he guides an audience through this truly timeless classic. As narrator, he keeps the story pumping at a rhythmic pace, with a keen sense for when silence and momentary pauses lend an air of theatre to the storytelling, whilst in character he skulks, bounds and even jigs his way across the stage, injecting the necessary joy and whimsy into Dickens’ ultimately magical fable. A distinctly Black Country take on one of Scrooge’s potential funeral-goers was particularly well received, though it must be said Bradley elicits plenty of laughs throughout, even sometimes through sardonic force of character alone.

“It’s a glorious marriage of performer and material.”

He isn’t entirely alone on Liz Cooke and Rory Beaton’s sumptuously atmospheric stage, though; joined as he is by musician Sophie Crawford, who adds further punch and pathos to Bradley’s fine work with musical accompaniment (some being of Crawford’s own composition), percussive sound effects performed directly on stage, and a beautiful, oft-haunting voice that carries folk lullabies or soothing vocal backing ringing out into the auditorium. She also shares some fun comedic beats with Bradley, usually involving him silencing her or otherwise poking fun at some of the source material (in the most respectful fashion only, of course).

It’s no small ask to expect two performers to hold an audience’s undivided attention for the better part of an hour and a half, doubly so when presenting what is essentially a stripped back, condensed down book reading of a story most will already be familiar with.

It’s a testimony then to all of the creatives involved that A Christmas Carol not only whizzes by, but is also a surprisingly transportive and evocative piece throughout. Yes, this is primarily thanks to its fantastic lead, but credit must also go to director John Terry for crafting such a taut and versatile slice of theatre storytelling, and the numerous artisans and craftspeople on the project who bathe the whole thing in such palpable atmosphere and ambience.

Should you consider yourself an enthusiast of Dickens, good literature or even just the festive season as a whole, Christmas Carol provides a quintessential, must-see Christmas experience that sits in stark contrast to so much of the bloat and excess we usually associate with the season. It is beautiful writing for the ages, distilled and stripped back without pomp or flourish, and enacted and enlivened by one of our most gifted and proven character actors in a lean, finely-tuned adaptation.

It’s the perfect early Christmas present, and a wonderful opportunity to see one of the greats take on, well, one of the greats.

Ah, the jukebox musical. A tricky theatrical egg to crack and sustain at the best of times, and doubly so, it seems, when moulded into the vein of a biopic. For every Bat Out of Hell or Mamma Mia which comes along and finds inventive ways to craft an artist or band’s hits into an original story for the stage, there are easily half a dozen or so 20th Century Boys or Lennon ‘story of’ ventures that seek to merge music and history to tell a true story via the artist’s own work.

The problem is, these ‘bio-musicals’ generally seem to struggle to resonate too far beyond any pre-existing fanbase, and creatively speaking, routinely fall into formulaic, familiar structures and tropes. It often seems that telling the factual, historical story trumps the crafting of a satisfying, engaging piece of musical theatre.

So how has Jersey Boys – at face value presenting a similar ilk of history-by-way-of-hits musical experience – seemed to buck the trend and go from strength to strength? The West End production, itself a winner of the Olivier award for Best Musical, recently returned to rave reviews and audience feedback after a four-year hiatus, and this latest touring production is not only the third such Nationwide tour, but one that runs for a stonking twelve months until next November.

Perhaps the simplest answer is that it not only ticks all the prerequisite boxes for a successful jukebox – namely a solid track list to bring to the stage and an impressive cast to embody them – but it also presents a keen eye for the uniqueness of the musical theatre experience. Where many biopics on stage languish and plod through the decades, Jersey Boys is whip-smart and whippet-fast, maintaining a jaunty, vibrant pace as it guides us through the at-times shocking, tragic and occasionally even dangerous, history of the iconic Frankie Valli and the various incarnations of The Four Seasons.

“There’s real stagecraft on show here, and it extends through to every part of this latest touring production, which is every bit as kinetic and electric as its London counterpart.”

There’s real stagecraft on show here, and it extends through to every part of this latest touring production, which is every bit as kinetic and electric as its London counterpart. No beat in the story or moment in time is held on any longer than necessary, and some punchy direction and choreography by Des McAnuff and Sergio Trujillo keeps the whole thing infused with energy and excitement. Even scene transitions fizz with movement, as characters still bathed in darkness strut, dance or even chair-slide across Klara Zieglerova’s kaleidoscopic, pleasing vertical set. Similarly, Howell Binkley‘s lighting and Michael Clark‘s projection work create a funky, slightly heightned and popart sense of time and place.

There is always a somewhat intangible element to why a show does or doesn’t ‘click’, and with Jersey Boys it’s difficult to imagine it clicking any better than this. Credit must go to Marshall Brickman and Rick Elice’s book, too, which excellently balances telling the story of Valli and company in a way which allows the central characters and their dynamics to develop (see the bubbling tension of Tommy DeVito’s financial mismanagement and shady dealings), ticks off the prerequisite key turning points in the ‘Four Seasons’ story, whilst also injecting plenty of levity, humour and general ebb and flow to what could easily have been another plodding documentary by way of discography.

“This latest touring production pulls no punches, with a company positively littered with talent.”

Naturally, all of this rests on the shoulders of the cast assembled, and this latest touring production pulls no punches, with a company positively littered with talent. Even bit parts showcase an impressive calibre of talent, such as Emma Crossley, who is brilliant and absorbing on multi-role duty but most notably as Frankie’s first wife, Mary, or Michael Levi as flamboyant record producer Bob Crewe (“it was the 60s, everyone thought Liberace was just theatrical!”).

But there’s no getting around this being a show resting heavily on the shoulders of its four titular leads. Dalton Wood is excellent as the cocksure, shady Tommy, bringing an impressive degree of restraint and nuance to a role that could easily showboat or tiptoe towards broadness. Lewis Griffiths as Nick Massi mines a lot of both humour and heart from the pensive yet pedantic Nick, particularly come the second act when he steps forward to become something of a co-narrator of sorts (and let’s face it, who doesn’t hate hotel soap bars?!). And Blair Gibson, returning to the role of songwriter extraordinaire and Valli’s right-hand man, Bob Gaudio, fits the part like a glove and stuns from the offset, both in voice and performance, giving one of the standout turns amidst a uniformly excellent cast.

In something of a rarity (but this is theatre, after all), the central role of Valli himself ended up being performed by both principal Michael Pickering in the first half, and his alternate, Luke Suri, who took over in Act II, owing to Pickering being ‘indisposed’. Whilst it did seem Pickering was occasionally hesitant on some of those higher trademark Valli falsettos, pondering the exact reason for his second act absence would be pure conjecture and supposition. What can confidently be said is that whichever ‘Frankie’ you see, you’re in for a treat, as both performers command the stage comfortably and give wonderful turns. It would, however, be remiss not only to send Pickering wishes for a swift return to the stage for whatever reason, and also to credit Suri for delivering such a confident, bravura turn at such short notice and halfway through a press night performance.

It’s a further testimony to the sheer quality of production and performer encapsulated by Jersey Boys that a switcheroo of even its main cast member halfway through did nothing to dampen audience spirits (if anything, there was a palpable sense of getting ‘on side’ and helping cheer Suri on… not that it was needed). It’s part of that ephemeral, crackling energy unique to the auditorium of live performance, and the very essence of what makes this such a corker of a show.

Even those unfamiliar with its four muses will find it hard not to be swept up by the engaging storytelling, the endearing characters and the razor-sharp execution of Jersey Boys, not to mention the sheer breadth and number of classic songs you may not even realise were even Four Seasons originals.

It not only confidently, vigorously smashes aside any preconception of the musical biopic as being some meandering, tepid thing, it goes one quick-step further, and proves itself to be the ultimate poster boy (boys?) for what any future ‘bio-musical’ should aspire to.

December 2021. Oh What A Night!