A Christmas Carol, Arts Theatre, review The Platonic ideal of Christmas - holly-wreathed, turkey-haunted, lit by the plum pudding that is the incandescent pinnacle of an indigestible festive feast - may have its origins in paganism, with decorative tweaks by Prince Albert, but it was Dickens who assembled all the disparate elements into the great Yuletide Ur-narrative that is A Christmas Carol. At the heart of Dickens's novel is the importance, both social and spiritual, of honouring tradition, and Simon Callow's one-man version of the play seems likely to become a Christmas tradition all of its own. After presenting it last year to fine reviews, he returns to the Arts Theatre to summon the spirits of Christmas past, present and still to come. Yet resist is exactly what Callow and his designer/director, Tom Cairns, do. The staging is minimal: two piles of chairs festooned with fairy lights, a brief scattering of snowflakes, the occasional sound of bells and tinkling piano music, and a screen onto which are projected an office clock and a foggy London street - the wraiths of Scrooge's bleak office and comfortless apartment. Callow himself, in overcoat and muffler, begins his account of Scrooge's hauntings in dry, almost nervous fashion, playing against the voluptuous lushness of Dickens's language to convey a piercing sense of his character's utter isolation - from his own heart, as well as from the rest of humanity. As the spirits lead him back to a time when he was beloved and happy, the animation rises: with a few surprisingly nimble dance-steps, the actor summons the invisible celebratory throng at the Fezziwigs" impromptu ball or his nephew Fred's Christmas dinner. The characterisation is subtle - this is storytelling, not impersonation. But Callow does it with such conviction as to persuade you that you are hearing the story for the very first time. Until Jan 5. Tickets: 020 7836 8463; artstheatrewestend.co.uk