Occupy Alliance

(Photo courtesy of the Alliance Theatre)

Foreclosures, an enormous gap between the haves and the have-nots, unscrupulous money-lending, greed and social injustice. No it’s not America circa 2011 but Victorian England mid-recession, the suddenly oh-so-relevant setting for the Alliance Theatre’s classic A Christmas Carol (through Dec. 24, www.alliancetheatre.org).

On the occasion of the first Occupy Wall Street Christmas, Charles Dickens is feeling a bit more 99 percentish these days. In their slightly tongue-in-cheek catalogue of fictional money bags, Forbes’ “Fictional 15” has clocked Scrooge’s worth at $1.7 billion, trailing Daddy Warbucks and Montgomery Burns. Black Friday sales may have been brisk but the air of regret and despondency that characterizes A Christmas Carol is a welcome lesson in moderation, charity, consideration and other seasonal touchy-feelyness that we hope our children will absorb in between trips to REI and Best Buy.

The Alliance production returns for its 22nd run helmed by the alternately impish and peevish Chris Kayser. Over time A Christmas Carol has become as tightly constructed as a Swiss watch, a well-oiled machine that is a wonder to behold, eliciting tears, merriment and a warm glow—no matter how many viewings you have under your belt—with an eerie precision that can make you feel like a rat in entertainment’s laboratory.

From the pleasingly smothering coziness of the cluttered stage design, whose tchotchkes and meadow of oriental rugs suggests the selling floor at ABC Carpet and Home in New York City to the mechanical doll ruddy cheeks and wind-up belly laughs of Mr. Fezziwig (the charming Brad Raymond, who should rent himself out to liven up holiday parties) A Christmas Carol is the theatrical equivalent of a steaming cup of cocoa, soothing, but served up with a chaser of social consciousness that is guaranteed to taint your Target splurges with a soupcon of anxiety. Happy Holidays 99 percent!