Review - A Christmas Carol at Merchant's House and other post-Italy excursions

One of my very favorite holiday traditions in New York is to see my friend Kevin Jones' production of A Christmas Carol.  I love the story, I love Kevin, and I love this adaptation. You can read earlier reviews of my visits HERE.  Last year, the show sold out so quickly, I didn't get a chance to see it, which made me sad.  This year, I made sure to hop online really early so I could get a ticket - hurray for me!  Also this year, there was an option to pay a few dollars more to be seated in the first two rows; I went ahead and did that.  I'm always towards the back, for some reason, and I wanted to be as close to the wonderful storytelling as I could get.

You know, now that I've re-read it, the review linked above is actually pretty good, if I do say so myself, plus in that review are two other links.  I think you should take a look at them for more details than I will provide here.  I do want to say a few other things:  I was seated amongst a group of tourists from Atlanta who had heard about the production via Trip Advisor.  I thought that was AMAZING!  Thank you to the person who put the show on 'best things to do in Manhattan for the holidays'!  My next-door-seat-neighbor, Frank from Atlanta (that's how he introduced himself), was telling me about a production of Christmas Carol in Atlanta featuring a gent who had been doing the show for years but had recently retired. Frank said that gent was Scrooge to him.  He asked me how big the cast of this production was, since the stage was so small.  He was shocked to hear it was a one-man performance! I do hate to raise people's expectations, since opinions always vary, but I said I had seen the show several times before and I find it wonderful.  He seemed satisfied.  I did notice Frank giving me looks during the show, probably amused by my rapturous beaming throughout.

As always, I found different aspects moving during last night's performance.  I always find something new to chew on in Dickens' insightful text.  Last night, more than once, I wished our current administration would see a production of the play.  They need to hear Marley exclaim  "Mankind was my business!  The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forebearance, and benevolence were all my business!"  I know that I have never heard Scrooge's nephew's words before with such clarity:  "...[Christmas is] the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys."

I also thought of myself.  My fear of confrontation with relatives who voted for hate.  And it made me think about the forgiveness that Dickens portrayed.  I'll have to mull on that a little longer.

I said to Kevin after the show, 'how can a show that was already perfectly wonderful be even MORE perfectly wonderful tonight?!'  But it was.  After all these years, there's an ease and such clarity to the performances. Each character, even our omnipotent narrator, is so beautifully delineated, it's as if we've seen 20 actors instead of one. The ease also added a lot more natural humor in the piece, which then set off the powerful humanity at the end of the evening.  I was weeping, as always.  Thankfully, Frank from Atlanta did not make fun of me.

I would love to tell everyone to RUN and see A Christmas Carol at Merchant's House, but the entire run is already sold out!  That is fantastic, but I'm sorry more people won't get to experience it.  We'll all just have to be proactive next year so we can all sit up front and revel in the sheer magic.

Going back a bit, a friend took me to the Transport Group's concert version of A Man of No Importance, by three of my very favorite writers: Lynn Ahrens, Stephen Flaherty and Terrence McNally.  I was happy to see all three of them there and be part of the festivities.  Richard Thomas, another of my very favorites, played Alfie Byrne beautifully. Thomas has such range, it's astounding.  His vulnerability and warmth were perfect for Alfie and he moved me to tears several times.  He was surrounded by a spectacular supporting cast, including Tyne Daly as his sister (she was a plain-spoken charmer) and the amazing Jason Danieley as Robbie.  Why aren't writers knocking each other over to write shows for Danieley?!  I just don't get it. He's warm, handsome and one of the best singer/actors in the business.  His "Streets of Dublin" was truly remarkable and got the most extended applause of the evening.  But the entire show was beautiful and, again, in these horrible societal times, to see a story about tolerance and forgiveness was especially moving.  There was also a wonderful talkback with the creators afterwards, which was great fun.  I'm so grateful my friend took me and I hope a revival of Man of No Importance is on the horizon.

Coincidentally, after seeing Richard Thomas Monday night, I saw him again Tuesday afternoon, at Edward Albee's memorial service. I feel quite privileged to have been there.  It was a wonderful afternoon, filled with remembrances, laughter, tears and Edward himself.  There were quite a few video and audio clips of the man himself, plus photos of him were on screens above, so it was as if he was always looking down at us.  I loved seeing video of the young, bemused Edward on an episode of the old game show "What's My Line"; I loved hearing from other playwrights (like John Guare, Arthur Kopit, Terrence McNally, Will Eno [though he broke my heart for other reasons]) about what Edward's writing meant to them; I loved hearing some of Edward's essays, with which I'm not familiar at all, and how prescient they are; I loved hearing Marian Seldes' beautiful voice again and hearing her clarity on what made Edward Edward; I loved hearing his longtime assistant give the real downlow; and I especially loved hearing snippets from his scripts. The August Wilson Theatre was packed with fans and there was such a sense of community there, it was wonderful.  And again I ponder: how can I miss someone so much when I barely knew them at all?  Such is life.  Such is theater.