REVIEW: Town Theatre’s A CHRISTMAS CAROL: THE MUSICAL Shines! By Jane Turner Peterson

 

Don’t wait another minute—head to Town Theatre’s website or pick up the phone now! Tickets will go fast for this dazzling production of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol the Musical, and you do NOT want to miss it. This spectacular musical, directed by veteran Jerry Crouch, is guaranteed to fill you with holiday cheer from the moment the curtain rises. With masterful choreography by Christy Shealy Mills and gorgeous vocals shaped by music director Kathy Seppamaki, this show is easily one of the standouts of 2025. 

Featuring music by Alan Menken, lyrics by Lynn Ahrens, and a book by Mike Ockrent and Ahrens, this adaptation remains one of the most beloved versions of Dickens’ classic—and Town Theatre’s massive, talented cast brings every note and moment to life with heart and precision. 

We follow Ebenezer Scrooge on his iconic Christmas Eve journey as the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future visit him. Each encounter is beautifully realized, reminding us all of the timeless power of reflection, redemption, and the true meaning of Christmas. 

With a cast of more than 50 adult, teen, and child performers, this production is nothing short of impressive. Crouch’s direction is seamless, moving the company through polished scenes and picture-perfect vignettes. The multi-level set is both stunning and functional, transitions are smooth and choreographed, and the use of the trapdoor (a fan favorite!) adds a delightful theatrical flair. The period costumes are exquisite, adding authenticity and charm to every scene. 

The dance numbers alone are worth the price of admission. “Link by Link” and “Dancing on Your Grave” light up the stage with thrilling choreography and ensemble work, while “Mr. Fezziwig’s Annual Christmas Ball” bursts with joy and energy. Christy Shealy Mills—with some help from her daughter Zanna Mills—delivers showstopping choreography that elevates these big dance moments into true highlights of the night. 

Tracy Steele delivers a brilliant performance as Ebenezer Scrooge, effortlessly capturing every comedic beat and emotional turn. His vocals shine, his presence commands the stage, and his transformation is deeply satisfying to watch. Additional standout performances include Jerimy Woodall as Marley, Zanna Mills as the luminous Ghost of Christmas Past, Gavin Slaughter as the exuberant Ghost of Christmas Present, and Ashton Boland as the chilling Ghost of Christmas Future. And don’t miss Gina Saviola’s delightful moments as Mrs. Mops! 

This is the holiday production to see this season. A Christmas Carol runs December 5–21. Tickets are available by phone at 803.799.2510, online at towntheatre.com, or in person at the theatre from noon to 5 p.m., Tuesday–Friday, at 1012 Sumter Street in downtown Columbia. 

Make it part of your family’s holiday tradition—get your tickets today!

From the print issue - REVIEW: THE WEIRD GIRL, Weirdness Becomes Witness—And a Way to See Our Own City Clearly

By Christina Xan

Carla Damron writes with one foot in the world of fiction and the other in the very real, very personal world of social work. In Columbia, SC where Damron herself is deeply rooted, her books feel less like imported thrillers and more like dispatches from our own streets. Her last novel, The Orchid Tattoo (Koehler Books, 2022), introduced readers to Georgia Thayer, a social worker caught up in a case involving human trafficking. With The Weird Girl (Stillwater River Publications, 2025) Damron continues Georgia’s story, this time shifting the focus to the fentanyl epidemic. The message is clear: these crises don’t just happen out there. They are happening here, woven into the fabric of Columbia. And even more striking, these crises don’t just happen but are willfully created and supported.

The plot begins with a party. Sara Clark, a high schooler, leaves the Hawthorne family’s gathering impaired by fentanyl and is struck by a Hawthorne car. Who was behind the wheel remains unclear at first, and the uncertainty becomes central to the novel’s unraveling. It looks at first like a teenage tragedy compounded by privilege, the kind of scandal that might be swept aside by lawyers and money. But in Damron’s telling, this hit-and-run becomes the key to a much larger story about how fentanyl seeps into schools, families, and emergency rooms. By the time Sara is stabilized in the ER where Georgia works, we’ve already seen this community is tainted: Cooper’s father Fletcher, a solicitor with political ambitions, will do anything to protect his son, even if it means leaning on Marcus Landry, a local drug boss. What follows isn’t so much an investigation as a slow peeling back of how deep the rot goes.

As in The Orchid Tattoo, Georgia is the heart of the novel. She is a foster mother as well as a social worker, and that dual role makes the crisis achingly personal. Her teenager Tessa hovers at the edges of temptation, just one bad decision away from the ER cases Georgia sees night after night. And Georgia herself isn’t a flawless hero: she struggles with the stigma of her own mental health history, and DSS officials question whether she is “fit” to foster at all. That tension—between how institutions judge and how individuals care—gives the book its power.

Pulling from her own experience in care work, Damron writes in short, fast-moving chapters that keep the pages turning. Her style isn’t about excess lyricism or flourish but about clarity and momentum. Conversations carry much of the weight, and sometimes you can feel the exposition slip in a bit too neatly. But the accessibility is the point: the book is designed to move, to pull you through the overlapping crises with emotional immediacy. She also shifts perspectives, weaving between Georgia, the teenagers, the Hawthornes, and even those entangled in the drug trade. That kaleidoscopic structure keeps the story from narrowing into a single vantage point and forces us to see the crisis as it ripples across every layer of the community. The result is a thriller that doesn’t just keep you hooked but keeps you alert to what’s at stake. You don’t forget that Georgia’s exhaustion mirrors that of real ER staff, or that Sara’s overdose echoes the tragedies that have played out in real schools.

What continues to help The Weird Girl stand out from more formulaic crime fiction is how it blends genre with social realism. The bones of a police procedural are here—an abduction, a cover-up, a climactic raid—but Damron keeps pulling us away from the lone-wolf detective narrative. Georgia is no hard-bitten cop; she’s a woman whose strength lies in care, in community, in refusing to look away from suffering. Even the simmering tension between her and Detective Lou, which could feel like a genre cliché, is rooted in trust and mutual reliance rather than sweeping romance. The book isn’t interested in distracting us with passion so much as reminding us that these characters are human, bruised and still reaching for connection.

The strongest thread of all is the way Damron interweaves the personal and the systemic. On one side, our characters each have their own struggles: Georgia holding onto her foster daughter, Sara fighting for her life, Lily Grace abducted after witnessing too much, Tessa wavering between rebellion and trust. These are characters—often women and girls—who do not fit, whose weirdness becomes their power. Their voices are distinct and their struggles tangible, which prevents the fentanyl crisis from collapsing into abstraction. On the other hand, you have the structural forces: Fletcher’s backroom deals, Marcus’s grip on the supply chain, DSS threatening to rip a family apart on a technicality. What could feel like two novels occurring side by side, Damron expertly merges together through her cast of distinct characters and interactions. A party overdose ripples into political corruption, a vigilante firebombing underscores the desperation of citizens abandoned by institutions, and every small story reveals the larger system grinding in the background. The book doesn’t let readers rest with the easy conclusion that drugs are bad, one we can easily separate ourselves from. Instead, it insists we reckon with how entrenched power protects the pipeline, and how entire communities are complicit in the harm.

Reading The Weird Girl feels urgent because Damron refuses to exoticize the crisis. She writes Columbia as Columbia, with no comforting distance. And while that specificity makes the book hit especially hard for those of us here, its urgency isn’t limited by geography. The networks of privilege, corruption, and exploitation Damron exposes are recognizable in cities and towns everywhere. The point isn’t just that it happens here, it’s that it can, and does, happen anywhere. The result is a thriller that doesn’t just entertain but unsettles, reminding us that these networks of corruption and compromise are not only possible but present. It’s a crime novel that asks readers to face the realities behind the headlines, and to consider what it means to fight for care in systems designed to fail.

If The Orchid Tattoo announced Georgia Thayer as a protagonist worth following, The Weird Girl confirms it. Damron has carved out a space in the crime genre that is less about puzzle-solving and more about moral witnesses, less about lone heroes and more about collective survival. For readers in Columbia, the novel lands close to home, but its reach extends well beyond these stories could unfold in any city where privilege shields the powerful and fentanyl devastates the vulnerable. Damron’s accomplishment is to make us see both at once.

 

Christina Xan is a former intern and member of the board of directors for the Jasper Project and is currently assistant professor of English at Northwestern Oklahoma State University.

The original version of this review appears in the Fall 20025 issue of Jasper Magazine.

REVIEW: Ain't Misbehavin' at Trustus Theatre

by Cindi Boiter

When the world is angry and disappointing, our nerves are frayed and our hearts are bruised, we turn to the arts to soothe and remind us of the things that matter most. High among those things we hold dear is the ability to lose oneself in joy. Luckily for Columbia theatre audiences, we have the opportunity to come together to laugh, pat our feet to the rhythm of the band, and experience the shared heart-flight of song when a vocalist takes us with them up and down the scales of music and emotion. We can do this by attending one of the performances of Ain’t Misbehavin’: The Fats Waller Musical Show which takes the stage at Trustus Theatre through March 22nd.

Directed by Terrance Henderson, this production of Ain’t Misbehavin’ features musical theatre veterans Katrina Garvin and Samuel McWhite, arguably two of the most talented and entertaining vocalists in the SC Midlands. Audiences have come to expect mighty performances and a heightened level of professionalism from both of these performing artists and, on the opening night of this run, we got what we came for.  John Ballard and Ara-Viktoria McKinney-Bookman both brought their A-games to opening night with vocals that ranged from soothing to soaring.

But the stand-out for this reviewer, and several other folks I spoke with in the audience, was Mel Driggers in the role originated by Charlaine Woodard. Having seen Driggers in several previous productions, Dandelion, Sweeny Todd, The Rocky Horror Show, and more, we knew that they brought their own uniquely cultivated style to a project, but opening night was the first time this reviewer has witnessed the level of comic acumen Driggers is capable of. As the Gilligan/Scooby Doo of the quintet, Driggers exhibited the kind of comfort with a comedic role that a lot of actors at the local level can’t quite pull off. That’s why, having clowned her way through an early song in the performance with missed notes and big-fun silliness, Driggers drew big-fun applause when they effortlessly hit the right notes, and hit them well, later in the performance.

Rather than being your typical musical theatre performance that adheres to a narrative punctuated by song, Ain’t Misbehavin’ is a musical revue written by Murray Horwitz and Richard Maltby, Jr, with arrangements by Luther Henderson. It opened at the Manhattan Theatre Club in 1978 with a stellar cast that included Nell Carter, Irene Cara, Andre DeShields, Armelia McQueen, and Ken Page. Playing these parts in the Trustus production are Garvin, Driggers, McWhite, McKinney-Bookman, and Ballard, respectively. Charlayne Woodard took over Cara’s part (Driggers) when the show moved to Broadway in 1982. While the playbill for the Trustus performance unfortunately does not provide a list of musical numbers and their performers, expect to hear all your Fats Waller favorites including, “I’m Going to Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter,” “Your Feet’ Too Big,” and “The Joint is Jumping,” among others. But don’t take your eyes off the actors who seem to be chilling at the set’s bar or comfy couch pit on the sides of the stage. Many times that is where the funny lives and, while one song is being sung, the cast is setting up the next song on the docket with clever direction and pantomime.

For this production director Henderson opted to make the six-member band a part of the show with the musicians positioned center back of the stage. Music director and pianist is Ayush Joshi, James Wolfe plays trombone, Nigel Ouzts is on trumpet, Ben Eidson on Woodwinds, Kris Phelps on drums, and Andres McNeil plays upright bass. Their presence on the stage exponentially adds to the performance and the little bit of interaction between band members and vocalists that we saw on opening night makes me hope that, with successive performances, the musicians will relax and become even more involved with the cast–because it really works when they are! Choral expert and recent Frank-N-Furter star in the Rocky Horror Show, also at Trustus, Walter Graham served as off-stage music director.

Other behind-the-scenes teammates include Trinessa Dubas as stage manager, scenic designer Corey Langley, whose life-sized characters from previous shows placed in the background of the set provided for some interesting detail, Garreth Hayward on lights with Matt Pound and Walter Kervin on sound, G. Scott Wild on props, and the multi-talented Mel Driggers on costumes. From the audience’s perspective, all these parts of the puzzle came together without a hitch.

There is little to critique about this show. One small detail that I’m sure will improve throughout the run is that, when McKinney-Bookman laughs or smiles, her face lights up and she pulls the audience helplessly into her part of the performance. It would be great to see even more consistent engagement with the audience and fellow cast members from this truly excellent vocalist.

There were too many stand-out songs to name them all, but I’ll mention that Ballard’s rendition of “The Viper’s Drag,” with Ballard fully engaging with the double entendre of the song, was a favorite of this reviewer and many other audience members—especially on a cold Friday night in 2025 when lighting “that tea” and letting “it be” sounds like a pretty good idea.

Certainly, the most moving song of the night had all cast members seated center stage to sing the Waller classic, “Black and Blue,” reminding us for a moment that the world is wrong in so many ways, but sometimes, for a few moments at least, the best thing to do is to sing about it. This performance of the well-known song gave this reviewer chills it was so expertly performed.

How will it end? ain't got a friend
My only sin is my skin
What did I do to be so black and blue?

Jasper recommends that you turn off the news, silence your phones, and grab someone you love to take them out for a night of fun and a fine performance from the cast and crew of Ain’t Misbehavin.’ We need this kind of joy now. It reminds us of what we’re here for, what we have to preserve, and that if artists like Fats Waller could see the sun shine through the cloudy culture that he had to deal with to have his music heard, we should celebrate the example he set by laughing, patting our toes to the rhythm of the band, and rejoicing in the songs he left us.

REVIEW: Chad Henderson's HUNDRED DAYS at Workshop Theatre

This is a show for those who love live music. Even if you don’t typically like musicals this is a show for you. Honestly if you have ears and a heart this is the show for you. I’m only partially kidding, but I have a hard time imagining anyone not enjoying themselves. Hundred Days feels like a concert, but better, and tells the real-life love story of Abigail and Shaun Bengson through songs they wrote as a family band. I won’t go into details, but their love story, like most, is not easy. This musical memoir illustrates well what happens when past trauma and anxiety go head-to-head with true love. 

Director Chad Henderson consistently delivers great theatrical productions to Columbia, and this was no exception. He has pulled together an excellent cast of local musician-actors, and it was obvious he had been thinking about producing this show for years. Well-known local actress and musician, Katie Leitner, was the perfect choice for lead, Abigail Bengson, and probably one of the few actors in Columbia with the vocal chops to play her. Katie along with the band elevate Abigail’s songs and put a polish on them that make them sound more modern than the original cast recordings. Her incredible voice and magnetism on stage draws you in so much so that this could have easily become the Leitner show. Thankfully, Henderson balanced the show well and cast co-star, Taylor Diveley, to play Shaun Bengson. Diveley held his own next to Leitner with equally exceptional vocal ability and a number of endearing qualities.  

Making up the rest of the family band we have singer and cellist Catherine Hunsinger, front-woman for local band Rex Darling, and multidisciplinary director and performer, Bakari Lebby, on bass. Both have speaking roles throughout the show, providing levity where needed, and sing harmony on the majority of songs. At times, the harmonies in these songs were overwhelmingly good – chill inducing and magical. USC professor, musician and musical director for the show, Tom Beard, sings, speaks, and plays accordion as well as synthesizer throughout the show. Drummer and vocalist, Patty Boggs, rounds out the band with near perfect dynamics. Both are stellar musicians and great in their roles.  

Musically the songs in this production run the gamut from Indie folk to electronica with several more traditional musical numbers sprinkled in. Be warned you will leave with songs from the show stuck in your head.  

The hour and a half performance kept the audience’s attention the whole time, and in the age of TikTok with our ever-shortening attention spans this is an impressive feat. Patrick Faulds the lighting and set designer did an impressive job of making the stage feel like a music venue, while also keeping it interesting. There were constantly little things I noticed on stage throughout the show, and like any good modern concert, video was a big part of the performance. Screens on the stage complemented each song and reinforced major themes throughout the show.  

100 Days runs through May 27th and is definitely worth the ticket price and your time. It is moving, fresh, and thoroughly entertaining. Learn more about the show at Workshop Theatre’s website.

REVIEW: Scenes from Metamorphoses, USC Theatre

I have to admit that I was surprised to see that the play, Scenes from Metamorphoses, based on the myths of Ovid by Mary Zimmerman, was being offered as part of the USC Department of Theatre and Dance’s season. My friend Ed Madden and I, along with our spouses, saw the play last weekend during its brief engagement, October 28-31, at the Booker T. Washington Lab Theatre on Wheat Street. Having had the opportunity to see the multi-award-winning production at Circle in the Square Theatre on Broadway in 2002, my memories of the experience were profoundly moving, and I remember being as impacted by the starkness of the minimalist set and costuming as I was by the power of the script and the heft of the acting and direction. The lighting in the Broadway production was so finely achieved that it almost became a character on its own.

Was it a good idea for a university to present a project as robust as Scenes from Metamorphoses? I’m still not sure.

A highly sophisticated project, Zimmerman refined her Metamorphoses over years of workshopping productions beginning in 1996 at Northwestern University. By the time it arrived on Broadway in 2002, the final iteration of the project was something pristine and exquisite. A compelling combination of the robust and the delicate that captivated audiences by reminding us of that conflict and resolution—hence, change—are both timeless and essential to life. The fact that Zimmerman also directed the play during its years on and off-Broadway should not be overlooked in terms of the organic flow in which she was able to offer her production.

While the title suggests that the presentation is an incomplete set of vignettes, in reality, we saw the play with all characters, as written, except with fewer actors. Based on David Slavitt’s 1994 translation of Ovid’s Metamorphosis the play features Cosmogony, Midas, Alcyone and Ceyx, Erysichthon and Ceres, Orpheus and Eurydice, Narcissus, Pomona and Vertumnus, Myrrha, Phaeton, Apollo, Eros and Psyche, and Baucis and Philemon. Zimmerman selected the myths to dramatize in order to replicate the rise and fall of a successful project, with all elements needed to create the arc of a well-accomplished stage play. Her use of the myth of King Midas, before his startling conflict and after his ultimate resolution represent the state of equilibrium that the play opens with and circles back to at the end.

The USC presentation featured Asaru Buffalo, Ezri Fender, Cameron Giordano, Cady Gray, Brighton Grice, Carly Siegel, and Nakao Zurlo, with direction by graduate student, Tiffani Hagan.

There were a number of challenges facing the team presenting Metamorphoses at USC last weekend. The greatest may have been the fit of this play for a group of undergraduate students. It can be difficult to discern where strengths and weaknesses come from—whether it is the actors or the director—without the conceit of knowing what the actors have brought to the table on their own. There was certainly an inconsistency in the performances with some players taking on a conscious meta theme to their interpretations and others a more lackadaisical approach. It was difficult to tell whether some of the nonchalance was prescriptive or organic. Others seemed uncomfortable but I’m not sure if their discomfort came from their roles or their own skin.

Madden made particular note of this. “One of the most interesting lines to me is: ‘You know what happened.’ The play is self-conscious about the fact that we know most of the stories. The art of the play lies in how they are put together and in how they are acted.” 

Given the use of the meta-dramatic theme, Madden, who rated the story of Narcissus as among the most beautifully told, based on the “gestures and movement of the actors,” but wondered “why a woman held the mirror for Narcissus—given his love for his own male beauty, it is the one spot in the entire play that could have included a queer element.”

The greatest challenge to this interpretation of Metamorphoses may be found in the absence of the pool of water which is central to every story line and is, in fact, the touchstone of the play. Originally written to have positioned center-stage a large, multi-use body of water serving as a character in and of itself—a place to wash, the ocean, the river Styx, and more—the pool  of water should act as the central part of the set, as a prop, as a destination, as a central unifying thread, and as the greatest symbol of change, or metamorphosis, itself. While this interpretation of the play uses a wooden barrel in that role, the barrel also becomes a receptacle for props and discarded clothing, and it is cast aside and ultimately moved off stage in what felt irreverent to this viewer.

The height of the performance, for both Madden and I, was the telling of the story of Phaeton, son of Helios, who hounded his father into letting him drive his chariot of horses across the sky creating the daily rising and falling of the sun. Phaeton’s failure to handle such a daunting task results in the scorching of the land and other earthly consequences as the boy had taken on more than he was capable of accomplishing. We both appreciated the role of the therapist who offered, as Madden says, “a way to understand the myth, and yet the very human story if the teenage boy.”

The epitaph on Phaeton’s tomb is ironically said to read, “Here Phaeton lies who in the sun-god's chariot fared. And though greatly he failed, more greatly he dared.” And while the cast and crew of Mary Zimmerman’s Scenes from Metamorphoses certainly did not fail, there is no doubt that they grew from the experience in the face of so many challenges presented them, not the least of which were the challenges they each wore on their faces—the very emblem of creating performance art in the days of Covid-19: their masks. As Madden says, the masks “Made some of the language difficult to understand, especially if the music was too loud, and may have caused some over-acting because the actors could not depend otherwise on facial movements to carry emotion.”

Kudos to the cast and crew of USC’s Metamorphoses. Every theatre artist should be so lucky to as to have the opportunity to make this play a part of their artistic lives.

-Cindi Boiter with Ed Madden

 

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