At times, it can feel as though theatre companies choose to perform old favourites as safe bets. It makes sense on paper: what is more tried and true than the mainstays of Shakespeare’s folio, the profundity of Chekhov or the wit and sharpness of Wilde?

But in reality, these productions inherit an added pressure: there are already excellent versions of their chosen tale widely available. In the case of Dicken’s A Christmas Carol, Creation Theatre’s Christmas show of choice, pop culture is crammed with beloved adaptations, from Albert Finney to Bill Murray, and Mickey Mouse to the Muppets. So naturally, I went into the North Wall Sunday night wondering: will the company’s adaptation provide enough innovation to justify its existence?

The answer, thankfully, is a resounding yes. This is perhaps unsurprising from a group that has been putting its unique spin on classic tales for more than 25 years. Here, Creation’s A Christmas Carol is reimagined as an exuberant musical, a rollicking, deeply alive exploration of love, community, regret and redemption.

The plot, for those somehow unfamiliar, transports us to a bitterly cold - both physically and emotionally - Victorian England, and our equally bitter and mean anti-hero Ebeneezer Scrooge, cruel and withholding landlord and employer. On Christmas Eve, Scrooge is visited by the ghosts of past, present and future, warning him to change his ways, before it’s too late. But will he listen?

In this take, Scrooge was allowed to begin the production being truly deplorable. But while miserly and sour, he was also given bitter, palpable grief behind his cruelty. His business partner and sole friend has recently died and it's clear he feels alone in the world. He is someone who has never learned the value of mutual aid because it was rarely shown to him, and the times when it was, it resulted in terrible loss. “This country is cruel”, he says throughout the first act, both as a justification and a lament.

Nicholas Osmond as Scrooge is perfectly cast, a grounding yet intense presence.

The show, with its small, sharp cast of six actors (all excellent), also makes the smart choice of using Osmond only as Scrooge, whilst everyone else assumes multiple parts. As much of the story takes place in his memory, this feels wise and fitting.

Creation Theatre has consistently excelled at its use of props and lighting, but here, they outdo themselves. The costumes all scream with steampunk stylishness. The gorgeously ornate stage, which has two levels of exposed wood and carefully positioned candles, is a marvel. The lighting is also an active player in this production, from the neon glow of Christmas lights on one character’s waistcoat to the eerie hank of fog that hangs overhead in grimmer scenes.

This show was also the best argument for staging productions in the round I’ve seen all year. Logistically, it allowed Scrooge to watch from afar as scenes play out on the main stage, but also, as the actors scurried on and off throughout the audience, set changes and prop swappings were neatly disguised. There were many moving parts in this production, but I cannot remember a minute’s delay between scenes. Perhaps because the majority of the players are Creation Theatre alumni, the entire cast had vibrant chemistry with one another.

The music, composed by the late Gareth Jones, was also wonderfully catchy and entertaining. The show started with a rousing musical number, and that energy kept going. Wisely, there were no weepy ballads or drawn-out love songs. The songs were used as gas in the engine of this vintage vehicle. The show strikes the right balance between peppery music and heartfelt acting.

While emotional and sincere, it never feels manipulative (which can be a hard trap to avoid in a family show). There is also a wildly funny section in the middle that appropriates two pop songs into a call-and-response that had me in stitches.

On paper, a two-hour morality tale about a mean and selfish Victorian man’s regrets could be slow going. But here, the story has a pacy, Sweeney Todd-esque delight to it. The darkness is cut through with humour and the humour is cut through with darkness. The production pulls no punches about the grit, ice and grinding humiliation of being poor. In a time of great inequality and a cost of living crisis, wherein much of the audience will be renters, it feels profoundly relevant.

While very young children may find certain bits too scary and the plot hard to follow, our particular audience was dotted with several kids around the age of eight who all appeared to be having a whale of a time.

Ultimately, the gleeful, punk edge revitalizes this classic story not only for the children in the room, but the adults as well, without disrespecting Dickens’ message. It delighted me from beginning to end. If you see one show this Christmas, make it this one.