Friday, Nov. 29

A Christmas Carol

Haters gonna hate. Honestly, why does Ebenezer Scrooge gets such a bad rap in this holiday perennial? (This is ACT’s 38th staging of the show, which helps underwrite the rest of the season.) The man is an entrepreneur. He’s rolling in bling. He’s just trying to reduce expenses, maximize profits, and outsource anything that stands in the way of sound business fundamentals. He’s a Chamber of Commerce sort of Victorian, a Jamie Dimon before his time, a proponent of lean, coal-fired capitalism. If he were working today, he’d have made a fortune securitizing bad home loans during the ’00s; and his company would be chartered in the Caymans to avoid corporate taxes. What about Bob Cratchit and his family of moochers? Costs! Costs to be managed on the spreadsheet (well, ink-stained ledger). Health insurance is something for others to pay (or don’t get sick). Overtime wages? There’s always someone in East London willing to do your job for less. Why should he share his wealth with the less fortunate? That sounds like socialism to me! (John Langs directs the production, running through December 29, with Kurt Beattie and Peter Crook trading the role of Scrooge.) ACT Theatre, 700 Union St., 292-7676, acttheatre.org. $27 and up. 7 p.m.

T. BOND

Days of Heaven

Terrence Malick’s second film is renowned for the work of the great Spanish-born cinematographer Nestor Almendros (1930–1992). He won an Oscar for shooting most of the 1978 Days during “golden hour,” when the sun lay low on the horizon and the fatness of the sky produced a diffuse prairie light the actors almost seemed to touch and handle. (Purists will protest that Almendros shot most but not all of the film, working in tandem with Haskell Wexler, who already had two Oscars by then.) In all Malick films, as with his recent To the Wonder, nature is as much a character—and a shaper of fate—as the cast speaking the words. Yet Days is—again, like all Malick’s movies—essentially laconic and interior, so far as the players are concerned. In outline, it’s a simple love triangle (verging on noir) between Richard Gere, Brooke Adams, and Sam Shepard, the latter playing a wealthy farmer who employs seasonal workers in his Texas wheat fields before World War I. Linda Manz, as Gere’s sister, relates much of the story in voiceover—another Malick hallmark—as the presumably dying Shepard marries Adams, then fails to croak, spoiling the inheritance plot against him. Gere is forced to leave for a while, then returns with a vengeance—like the wind and fire and locusts besieging the farm. Does the love triangle matter? Does the conflict between Gere and Shepard? Not really—they’re like the waving grass in The New World and The Thin Red Line and Badlands. Everyone’s ephemeral, like the crops and the seasons. Yet that doesn’t diminish the emotions on Malick’s broad canvas (Through Thurs.) Grand Illusion, 1403 N.E. 50th St., 523-3935, grandillusioncinema.org. $5–$8. 7 & 9 p.m.

BRIAN MILLER

Oliver!

Charles Dickens is everywhere this holiday season (see A Christmas Carol, above). About a century after Oliver Twist was written, an English songwriter named Lionel Bart had the unlikely idea of making it into a musical. The 1960 smash moved to Broadway, was filmed in 1968, and is regularly revived. Bart (1930–1999) hasn’t got much stature in the U.S., but he was a huge hit-maker in his prime, writing countless pop ditties and even one James Bond song (for From Russia With Love), though he couldn’t read music. His inspiration for tackling the huge Victorian novel was David Lean’s 1948 movie adaptation, which did most of the distillation for him. Bart cut the book even further and made Fagin more a clown and less a dangerously Semitic stereotype. (Bart also happened to be Jewish, and gay, with a ear for the Cockney accents of prewar London.) Oliver! made Bart’s reputation, transforming him into a very rich (he promptly bought a nose job) ’60s celebrity who hobnobbed with John Lennon, the royals, and the Stones. But he never had another such stage hit, and blew his fortune on druggy luxury, dying loveless and alone—rather like one of those sad, secondary characters in a Dickens novel. Fortunately, Oliver! is an entirely more cheerful show, here alternating Jack Fleischmann and Jeffrey Weber as the titular orphan, with Hans Altwies as the evil Bill Sikes and David Pichette as the pitiful Fagin. David Armstrong directs this in-house production. (Previews begin tonight; opens Dec. 5; runs through Dec. 31.) The 5th Avenue Theatre, 1308 Fifth Ave. 625-1900, 5thavenue.org. $41 and up. 8

p.m.

T. BOND

Casablanca

We all know the story of this 1942 Michael Curtiz favorite: a classic love triangle set against the tensions of war. True to its stage origins, the film sets up neat oppositions between selfishness and sacrifice, patriotism and exile, love and duty. Humphrey Bogart gained iconic status as Rick, who balances his lingering attachment to Ingrid Bergman’s Ilsa against his long-suppressed sense of idealism. Casablanca is about a lot of things, but one strong theme is forgiveness: Two former lovers must somehow reconcile themselves with the past, mutually absolving each other to clear the way for the future. Their relationship has its parallel as Bogie and Claude Rains also forgive and forget, then famously stride forward together to battle. (Through Wed.) Central Cinema, 1411 21st Ave., 686-6684, central-cinema.com. $6–$8. 7 p.m.

BRIAN MILLER

A(n Improvised) Christmas Carol

Secular, Christian, or Jew, we all have a love/hate relationship with Christmas. Part of that is the family-gathering aspect, and part the oppressive the good cheer—like we’re all obligated to smile and wear Cosby sweaters during the coming month of credit-card debt. For that reason, a welcome reaction against the Yuletide spirit comes in this loosely Dickensian romp, first performed in 1985. Scrooge, Tiny Tim, and company are often kicked forward from the Victorian era to the topical now by a baker’s-dozen performers (most sharing various roles). Who says Tiny Tim has to be tiny, or even a child? Why can’t Bob Cratchit be an asshole? Or Scrooge could possibly be gay, right? (And after all those Paranormal Activity movies, surely we have to reconsider the ghosts.) A full bar should help your enjoyment of the holiday lampoon. Since audience members get to toss out cues for how the story ought to proceed, the shows can range from G to R ratings. But the truth is that many seasonal family gatherings feature drunken tirades and hostile declarations more upsetting than anything you’ll see onstage here. (Through Dec. 28.) Unexpected Productions, 1428 Post Alley, 587-2414, unexpectedproductions.org. $12–$15. 8:30 p.m.

T. BOND

Saturday, Nov. 30

Nutcracker

Originally it took some convincing to get Maurice Sendak to commit to designing a new production of Nutcracker for Pacific Northwest Ballet—a work he first called “a snoozer, a holiday turkey.” But when then–artistic director Kent Stowell explained that he wanted to go back to E.T.A. Hoffmann’s original story, which is as menacing as it is sweet, Sendak was hooked. This year the company celebrates the 30th anniversary of its production, in which the avuncular godfather Drosselmeier from Act 1 transforms into a slightly sinister Pasha in Act 2, and Sendak’s mice skitter throughout. (Through Dec. 29.) McCaw Hall, 321 Mercer St. (Seattle Center), 441-2424, pnb.org. $25-$140. 2 p.m.

SANDRA KURTZ

Pichette makes for a jolly Fagin.

Warner Bros.

Warner Bros.

It’s snowing on stage at PNB