Review: Stocking Fillers at Royal Court Studio ****

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas – toys in every store, and a festive show on every stage.

While there are big bad wolves on the loose upstairs, downstairs in the more intimate space of the Royal Court Studio there’s the return of the theatre’s ‘Stocking Fillers’, a disparate selection box of mini plays from members of the theatre’s writing groups, each with a festive theme.

They add up to seven 10-minute pieces spread across the evening. Seven swans a swimming in this corner of a ‘pool rippling seasonal sparkle. And while there aren’t actually any swans involved, there is a lone turtle dove (Joe McGann) mourning the loss of his mate - and growling grief-stricken at a blameless gallic bell (Lynn Francis).

So while the evening itself is certainly merry and bright, not all the short stories are full of unadulterated festive cheer. Taken together they explore joy, sorrow, grief, happiness, disappointment, contentment, love, family, magic...and murder.

And if one isn’t to your taste, with the brisk turnaround over two hours, there will be another one along in a few minutes.

Or in the case of Sarah Whitehead’s The Christmas Lift, another act in a few minutes, with the story divided into three parts which are spread out across the evening. The final instalment is preceded by a jolly, and jolly useful, recap in video form on the two upright screens which flank the stage.

All the playlets are performed by the professional cast of four –McGann, Francis, Tasha Dowd and Elliott Kingsley, clad in a selection of jumpers borrowed from Val Doonican’s wardrobe, and directed by Sam Donovan.

Above: Elliott Kingsley and Tasha Dowd in Party Time for Jesus. Top: Joe McGann and Kingsley in Corned Beef Hash and Runny Eggs.

In addition to Whitehead’s seasonal tale that sprinkles Santa magic among its plot about domestic emotional belittling and rude shop staff, and David Holmes’ quirky Saved by the Jingle Bell, there are plots that involve a case of hapless mistaken identity among spooks at a Christmas fair (Alex Alexandre’s Mince Spies); how even in challenging circumstances the season of goodwill can bring unexpected good cheer (Marya McCann’s Santa Baby), and some seething retribution for a long-held festive grudge in Ste Mc’s The Death of Christmas which end the first half with a real bang.

Paul Ariss muses in bleak but laugh-out-loud style on the real meaning of Christmas in Party Time for Jesus, where the disgruntled Son of God sends Judas (Kingsley) to supposedly redeem himself by negotiating with a jargon-spouting PR outfit for the figure who put the ‘Christ’ into Christmas to be centred once more in his own birthday celebrations.

And in Iain Christie’s Corned Beef Hash and Runny Eggs, McGann’s exasperated Tony just wants to be left alone to do Christmas his way for what turns out to be a particularly poignant and thought-provoking reason.

It’s homegrown entertainment delivered with a cosy, charming, homespun feel, exacerbated by the cheery way the cast mingle with their audience ahead of the start and also fill in the space between play changes by taking it in turns to recite poems, tell stories or sing songs.

Dowd also wields a guitar, while Francis delivers a marginally cleaner tribute to Fascinating Aida’s very rude festive number Try Not to be a ***, It’s Christmas'. Probably not the exact message the King will deliver at 3pm on Christmas Day, but one to take on board nevertheless.