'Christmas Carol Comedy': What the dickens is Ben Asaykwee up to?

It's impossible to be much more disarming than Ben Asaykwee is in the "Director/Creator's Note" to "A Christmas Carol Comedy."   Writing in an ebullient holiday spirit, he calls the District Theatre production "dumb" several times. And it would be uncharitable to disagree.

Scrooge has reason to be apprehensive.

With a huge cast encompassing a variety of local theater experience and stature, Asaykwee has lovingly thumbed his nose at Charles Dickens' venerated novella, which is amply familiar in theatrical form via Indiana Repertory Theatre's annual production in Tom Haas' adaptation. 

The comedy ranges over the variety of wit Asaykwee is capable of, from punning and satirical jabs through a vast gift for parody and on to slapstick and an abundance of generic self-consciousness. It was all mildly amusing to me; others in the audience on opening night Friday found it uproarious.

Full disclosure here: I admire Dickens' original just  this side of idolatry. To me, it is secular Scripture on the border with true spirituality. I don't have to see it at IRT every year, so perhaps that show has more constant devotees than I. But my soul, whatever that is, remembers steadfastly.

I don't hold it beyond a little mockery, however. I'm skeptical of labeling any cultural phenomenon sacred, especially the kind that's burdened by theology (which Dickens' story hardly is). Still, I am not among Asaykwee's ideal audience, even though I suspect his regard for Dickens' original text is almost as high as mine. Someone has truly said that parody is motivated by love of its target, despite the widespread notion that parodists must despise what they are poking fun at. It's likely that Asaykwee genuinely loves "A Christmas Carol."

"A Christmas Carol Comedy" may be trying to stack too many gifts under the Yule tree. Some of the witticisms would be savored more if they were read. The hellzapoppin' pace requires some sacrifice of understanding. Cleverness and sheer energy work hard to balance one another. Fortunately, most of the performances are imbued with theatrical zest for the material. Asaykwee's directing is generously fused to his verbal skills. 

The ensemble numbers are rich in style and commitment. That's especially true of the way the chorus fleshes out Matt Anderson's showcase song on Scrooge's signature dismissal ("Bah! Humbug!"). We are invited to endorse the oft-hidden consensus that indeed there's too much humbug around Christmas. 

The Ghost of Christmas Present gets Scrooge into the spirit.

Individual performances highlight the creator's most colorful notions. The multiple roles filled by Tiffanie Bridges with ineffable gusto stand out in this regard. Chief among those on opening night was her outrageously costumed Ghost of Christmas Present, hip to the vibe that keeps everyone mired in the Present (or so they think). That caricature was wittily contrasted to Shelbi Berry's Ghost of Christmas Past. That dazzlingly costumed figure mastered a lingo I didn't quite recognize, but which called to mind Frank Zappa's Valley Girl of a couple of generations ago. 

Long-suffering employee and steady good guy Bob Cratchit got an appealing portrayal by Jeff Stratford on opening night. As Mrs. Cratchit, Michelle Wofford had one of Asaykwee's tenderest songs, "Joy Right Now."  That was later aptly reprised to confirm Scrooge's moral transformation after the ghostly visions summoned by his haunting old business partner Marley have departed.

Generally, however, Asaykwee as the show's creator seems uncomfortable with Dickens' pathos. This is only a play, the audience is reminded, and it's a comedy. Thus, Tiny Tim is Bridges' most tossed-off role. The universal blessing enunciated by the crippled child becomes a footnote.

It feels different when the Ghost of Christmas Future's vision of Scrooge's demise takes the form of rag-shop deals haggled over his clothing and other personal items. For this scene, Asaykwee has devised a song on the theme of "you can't take it with you" that three women performed well. The line Dickens puts in the mouth of one of the women — "He frightened every one away from him when he was alive to profit us when he was dead" — thus came alive in three-dimensional unanimity. Comedy and pathos blend. 

It is one of those moments that the show, contrary to the deviser's stated intention, is definitely not dumb. It's true to Dickens in the inimitable Asaykwee fashion, which dominates the stage attractively, however those who attend may process it through Dec. 23.