During the interval of last night’s performance of It’s a Wonderful Life at the Playhouse, I asked my husband if it reminded him of his childhood in America. ‘That film was the reason I left America in the ‘60s’, he replied. Ah. Maybe that’s why it was difficult to extract him from the Library in time for tonight’s show. ‘Still,’ he went on, ‘this is much better’. Perhaps, also, it highlights the fact that what he was hoping to leave behind in America in the 1960s has caught up with him here in 2015: exploitation of the poor for profit by people with too much money.

Bridge House Theatre’s ‘radio stage’ production is faithful to Kapra’s 1949 film, based on a short story by Philip van Doren Stern. The innocent, indeed heroic, but put-upon George Bailey is driven to the brink of suicide by the machinations of the evil Potter. Greg runs a building and loan society founded by his father, which helps people of his small town build and buy their homes. Potter exploits the poor and rents mean but expensive shacks to them. Gradually he is taking over the town and he has now found a way to bankrupt George.

Even as George stands by the river gazing into the icy waters (it is Christmas Eve), Clarence (Angel, Second Class) is given a chance to earn his wings by saving George from suicide. A Tom Sawyer fan, Clarence eventually comes up with a plan that works.

The genius of this production is to stage it inside the radio station where it is being broadcast to the nation. We, the audience, become part of a second layer of drama as the actors perform to microphones, assisted by the lady at the sound effects table. We see how even in front of the microphones, they enter physically into their roles, and as the story develops there are more and more witty role changes and doublings. We are drawn into the meta-drama of the community of actors as they build the story and move in and out of their various roles. Strangely, the sound effects convince even as we watch them being produced: there is a marvellous rapping on a door that doesn’t exist, which is so well coordinated that we hear it at the ‘door’ even while we can see the sound being made on the table. When Potter becomes old enough to be going about in a wheelchair, this is conjured up by his hand gestures and the squeaking of the wheels.

The radio surround puts the story into its cultural context, providing distance and humour as well as heightening its significance: any hint of kitch effectively disappears. They take advantage of the entr’actes to switch to 1950s British voices and do radio ads – for ‘full strength Capstan filter cigarettes, the one that doctors smoke’, for example.

There are still plenty of seats available, which is good news for you, though sad for the production as it deserves a better audience. We were almost put off by the ‘heart-warming’ and ‘movingly heartfelt’ quotes from the reviews. Don’t be. Those are hang-overs from the film, but in this production they are far outweighed by the humour and underlying message. Do see it if you can.

Every year at Christmas, It’s a Wonderful Life is compulsive viewing at our house. So I was curious to see how it would translate to the stage. Also more than a little worried, I mean, were they messing with perfection? There was no cause for concern. The Oxford Playhouse put on a superb performance.

We became a live audience for the fictional IBC Radio Theatre as it performed It’s a Wonderful Life. The play began with an audience warm-up. We were informed when to clap (when the ‘applause’ card was held up) and to clap in double time because that would sound like we were enjoying ourselves to the listening nation.

Also when the ‘On Air’ sign lit up we were to make sure we were suitably quiet, no chinking of glasses or crunching of sweet wrappers, and, of course, no worries of mobile phones as they hadn’t been invented yet! This was 1950 after all.

The cast of six were then introduced, dressed in 1950’s attire. The audience clapped robustly. And the story of George Bailey began. The cast took on multiple roles and there was no mistaking which character was speaking. It was clear when the changes took place, by either a special sound effect, or through the dialogue. There was never any confusion.

A towel doubled up as a scarf for the young air pilot, Harry Bailey, and even a shawl for babies one and two that George Bailey had the good fortune to father.

At the end of Act One there was a quick summary of events so far, and a false break with adverts for washing powder and Horlicks, acted by the cast. More adverts consisted of Bells Whiskey and filter cigarettes that promoted good health and were smoked by doctors!

The play kept faithfully to the original film version, and was both moving and funny. The special effects were performed by Susan Burns who did a sterling job and was fascinating to watch.

The whole performance was hugely enjoyable and, leaving the foyer, the place was buzzing with compliments. I would love to see it again and have no hesitation in recommending it to friends, along with dates of when it is in their area. It’s a treat. A delicious, heart-warming delight, supplied by hard-working actors/actresses using an intelligent script. First class.