Promenade theatre demands a number of things: interesting space interestingly used, a cloakroom so the audience can follow the action unencumbered, reasonable brevity, or the chance to perch now and again, a limited audience so that everyone can see, sensitive stewarding – and a good reason for the walkabout. Ellie Jones's production fails to offer most of these things, but it certainly has architecture on its side.
The underground arches of the playhouse drip mournfully, and double as a grim Victorian London. The space is a major character: there is a wonderful moment when you suddenly find yourself in a graveyard.
Jones has opted for Neil Bartlett's spare, steely version of Dickens's story, but lends it a festive air with a big community cast. There is an opportunity to dance at the Fezziwigs' party, sit down with the Cratchits for Christmas lunch (the Cratchit children are such charmers that Bob could surely solve his money problems by putting them on the stage) and experience the tick-tock of passing time in Scrooge's freezing office.
With its hand-held lighting it's very atmospheric, but all that tick-tocking and moving from space to space breaks up the action, so it's not always easy to keep a grip on the narrative. Like many Christmas Carols, this one likes to look on the bright side, and David Fielder's cockney, camp Scrooge never feels in need of real redemption. But the whole thing drips (literally, under the arches) with a sense of time and place and could be an unusual festive experience if Jones took more care with the storytelling and upped the pace.
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