Christmas Carol Goes Wrong

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

From the moment you step into the Apollo Theatre, Christmas Carol Goes Wrong wraps you up like a festive jumper you didn’t know you needed — slightly chaotic, extremely comforting, and guaranteed to make you smile. Even before the curtain rises, the pre-show music playlist sets the tone beautifully. A selection of instrumental, jazz-inspired Christmas classics drifts through the auditorium, instantly creating a warm, cosy atmosphere. It feels like being gently eased into a Christmas party where you already suspect something might get knocked over before the night is out.

What follows is Mischief Theatre operating like a well-oiled sleigh hurtling downhill — fast, unstoppable, and gloriously out of control. Written by Henry Lewis, Jonathan Sayer, and Henry Shields, this is without doubt the company’s funniest show to date. Laughter is constant and often uncontrollable — the sort of laughter that makes you miss the next joke because you’re still recovering from the last one. The long-running jokes are nothing short of phenomenal, planted early like festive seeds and paid off later with the kind of precision that would make Father Christmas proud. Every callback lands, every escalation feels earned, and each payoff unwraps itself like the perfect Christmas present.

The direction by Matt DiCarlo is flawless — and that’s no small miracle in a show where everything is supposed to go wrong. Every moment has purpose, every pause is perfectly timed, and every theatrical disaster is executed with clockwork precision. The direction knows exactly when to let a gag breathe and when to pile on the chaos like one too many pigs in blankets. Despite the escalating mayhem, the storytelling is always crystal clear, ensuring the audience never feels lost — just joyfully overwhelmed.

The set design by Libby Todd is just perfect. At first glance, it’s a rich, festive Dickensian world — the kind of set that makes you want to curl up with a mince pie and a mulled wine. But slowly, and then not so slowly, it reveals itself to be a beautifully disguised engine of destruction. Clever tricks are hidden throughout, each revealed at exactly the right moment, and every malfunction feels both surprising and completely inevitable. Even as things begin to fall apart, the set remains an absolute delight to look at.

Lighting design by Matt Haskins is phenomenal and plays a huge role in amplifying the comedy. The way lighting enhances the more visual gags adds an extra festive sparkle, often turning something funny into something genuinely hysterical. It’s dynamic, responsive, and incredibly well judged, working hand-in-hand with the performers to heighten tension, misdirection, and surprise.

Sound design by Ella Wahlström is equally superb and impressively nuanced. Rather than blasting everything out and making it feel like a big, brash Christmas spectacle, the sound design keeps the show feeling intimate and immediate — like being let in on a particularly disastrous festive secret. Voices feel close and personal, while additional sound layers slip in quietly to support the comedy without overpowering it. It’s detailed, thoughtful work that adds richness without ever shouting for attention.

The book itself is an absolute festive feast. The writing is packed with sharp wordplay, brilliantly structured chaos, and jokes that just keep on giving. I particularly loved the early references to other Cornley productions — little Christmas crackers for long-time Mischief fans that pop with delight while remaining accessible to newcomers. Importantly, this isn’t just a stagey rehash of the BBC version; it takes a slightly different approach, refreshing familiar ideas and introducing new surprises. Every joke lands, and by the end, there’s a genuinely lovely sense of resolution. Against all odds — and like the end of a good Christmas dinner — you find yourself oddly full of affection for these characters.

Henry Lewis stands out yet again as Robert, delivering some of the funniest lines in the show with absolute confidence. Paired with Jonathan Sayer, the two form a dream team, their chemistry and timing elevating every scene they share. Lewis’s performance is near-flawless, though a small point of confusion for some audience members was the absence of the reading glasses — a minor detail in an otherwise exceptional turn.

At this performance, I had the pleasure of seeing Alex Bird as Max, and he gave a wonderful performance. He was an absolute joy to watch on stage, bringing warmth, commitment, and a clear love for the material that made his presence genuinely delightful.

And then there’s Chris Leask as Trevor, who once again delivers comedy perfection through long-running jokes that build beautifully across the evening. His moments later in the show, particularly a brief interaction towards the end, are executed so well and land with maximum impact — a masterclass in patience and payoff.

Christmas Carol Goes Wrong is festive theatre at its absolute best — a sleigh ride of perfectly controlled chaos, wrapped in tinsel and timed to comic perfection. With razor-sharp direction, outstanding design across the board, a laugh-out-loud script, and performances that sparkle brighter than the West End lights, this short stay at the Apollo Theatre is an unmissable seasonal treat before the production continues on its UK tour. Proof, once again, that when everything goes wrong… Christmas theatre goes very, very right.