Joy to the world and peace on earth — who cares about that? All the best festive tales, from A Christmas Carol to It’s A Wonderful Life, come with a distinctly darker side, and The Little Match Girl — Hans Christian Andersen’s story of a neglected urchin who freezes to death in the street — is even darker than most.
It’s also the perfect showcase for Arthur Pita, a choreographer capable of teasing out the humour and whimsy in even the blackest narrative, while never shying away from its cruelty. That the lights come up 65 minutes later on a studio full of beaming ticketholders rather than PTSD-ridden wrecks reveals his skill. With the barest of props, a street lamp, miniature houses and a few flecks of snow, Pita artfully sets the scene. We’re in a fictional Italian town, where waif Fiammetta is trying to sell matches on a bitterly cold Christmas Eve. She’s attacked by rivals who steal her shoes and self-respect; later her cries are ignored by the Donnarumma family, who gorge on wine and turkey as she shivers outside. She flees to her grandmother’s grave where she finally finds comfort — and death.
Cheery, right? Well, under Pita, yes. His Match Girl may be tinged with sadness but it’s also packed with deft comic touches and flights of fancy — songs sung in Italian, commedia dell’arte styling, even a detour to the moon — that halt any tears.
Corey Annand, reprising her role as Fiammetta, is wonderfully light and childlike, mixing vulnerability with a steely technique, while Stefanos Dimoulas, Ashley Morgan-Davies and Hanna Nussbaumer, playing everyone from lamp lighters to astronauts, jump from role to role with ease.
Framing it all is Frank Moon’s atmospheric score, performed live by Phil King, resplendent in top hat and ragged tales. Not a happy Christmas tale — but somehow a joyful one nonetheless.
Until 29 December (020 7863 8000; sadlerswells.com)
