Not So Humbug after All

Fiorella and Husband drove into Georgetown for the Palace Theater's Christmas extravaganza presentation of Scrooge, the Musical, half-expecting to leave after the first act. We weren't that thrilled about the concept of the play and knew it would be stuffed with extraneous children, some of whom could act and some of whom--uh, needed further instruction.

We stayed all the way through. Scrooge couldn't compare to last season's Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat or the previous season's Grease, but it was well-done. The children's acting, as usual, varied in quality, some of the stage scenery manipulations were weird (notably Scrooge going upstairs to his bedroom and ending up downstairs), and the British accents were mangled and haphazard, but Joe Penrod as Scrooge was terrific. In fact, he was a one-man show--his voice, his movements, his every attitude brought the character to life. Penrod even triumphed over the stupid libretto which got all tied up in two-syllable rhymes, morals being pushed relentlessly down our throats, and having his "sister" call him "Ebby," which nearly cracked Fio up.

In fact, the featured males were all stand outs, and I especially hope we'll be seeing more of Justin Langford. The only featured woman, Yvonne Love, sang like an angel, but was totally poker-faced.

Do not go to this show expecting to see Charles Dickens' "Christmas Carol." It's a gussied up Broadway musical meant for light-hearted holiday consumption. But it has its moments. Fio loved the scene when Scrooge unknowlingly danced on his own coffin,and she cried when the Spirit of Christmas to Come showed Scrooge the grave of Tiny Tim.

She always does.