You know the story: long ago on a Christmas Eve the miserly Ebenezer Scrooge was visited by four spirits: the ghost of his partner Jacob Marley and three who represented Christmases Past, Present, and Future. From the title alone – A Halloween Carol – you can tell this is not that story well, not exactly, but from Dickens’ well known classic writer-director Lawrence Meyers has crafted quite the treat for this Spooky Season.
After check-in on the sidewalk outside the DTLA venue one or two guests at a time (in my case one, and going through this show with a stranger would likely radically alter the experiemce) are led into a somewhat familiar feeling office, where upon sitting at the big desk which dominates part of the room we are confronted by the ghost of Jacob Marley. Marley isn’t here for Scrooge, however, nor is he interested in the chains that he forged in life. No, Marley — like the playwright itself it seems — is obsessed with the masks that he wore, and that in turn he knows we must wear in our lives.
The masks, Marley insists, aren’t the real self but if left unaddressed could seal away who we are forever. Leaving our real life unlived. The path ahead, naturally, will involve visitations by three spirits which — as you likely guessed from the title of the work represent past, present, and future Halloweens.
Rather than take you through the multiple following vignettes I’ll take a beat here to note that the cast is uniformly excellent, with many of the scenes hinging on the ability of the cast — particularly the core spirits themselves — being able both deliver the script and keep up with the sometimes philosophical responses said script prompts. The spirits know the whole production hinges upon the sense that the audience is being heard as well as seen, and they deliver.
Yet, without spoiling anything, I have to give special praise to the sequence that starts the moment after you leave Marley’s ghost and start to explore the “past.” Here you’re met by a figure who leads you upstairs, and this character is so disarming, and puts one on the back foot in a way that — quite naturally — left me both more open to playing in a pure sense and also feeling a bit more protective once monsters reared their heads in that scene. All of it coming together as part of a heightened reality that clears the path for the surreality that follows.
It feels like it’s been some time since Los Angeles had a piece that managed to mix the mythic and the psychological together like this. One that plays fully within the sandbox of Halloween time without using cruelty as a crutch.
The mapping of Dickens’ framework to the ideas that Meyers wants to explore works almost shockingly well. I say “almost shockingly” if only because the use of established works as a jumping off point for immersive is the best, and sometimes almost underused, technique in the craft. Reworking a classic clues the audience in on the kind of role they are meant to play in the tale without — forgive me — giving up the ghost. Yet the structure itself wouldn’t be enough if there weren’t interesting scenes and performances to fill them. It would be form without meaning if the author didn’t have something to… well if not to say, something that is clearly scratching away at his subconscious like an undigested bit of beef.
The play builds towards a Halloween Future sequence where that spirit is at turns alluring and anguished, running through a gamut of emotions that feel like shifting possibilities. All our tomorrows not quite being set even after so long on the path. Beyond the future one more encounter awaits, one final test that relies on us to have listened well to what the spirits have told us.
It’s been some time since I’ve seen any of Meyers’ work, the last piece I caught was a monologue about his time as one of the superfans of the seminal Tension Experience which rewired so many of Southern California’s horror fans into the core of the immersive fanbase here. With that in mind I came in expecting to find something that was chasing shadows of that show’s lost glories. Instead I found something that is informed by what that show and its offshoots but not beholden to them. Not in form or truly in tone. There’s mystery here, although here it is of the inner kind, that and a femme fatale figure is being the major similarities.
Well, that and a cinematic sense of propulsion through the scenes, one that uses the largely familiar space of The Count’s Den in ways that make it feel strange and dreamlike without ratcheting up a huge set decoration budget. The focus is all on the interplay of the characters and the audience, and that makes for the best special effect of all.
A Halloween Carol runs at The Count's Den in DTLA Sep. 25 - Oct. 29. Tickets are $75.
Discover the latest immersive events, festivals, workshops, and more at our new site EVERYTHING IMMERSIVE, home of NoPro’s show listings.
NoPro is a labor of love made possible by our backers. Join them today and get access to our Newsletter and Discord!
In addition to the No Proscenium website and our podcast, and you can find NoPro on Bluesky, Facebook, LinkedIn, YouTube, Instagram, and in the Facebook community also named Everything Immersive.
Discussion