Dolly Parton’s Smoky Mountain Christmas Carol: a marvellously musical, disarmingly sincere take on Dickens

Alas, Dolly Parton herself does not appear, but her spirit thoroughly pervades this unexpectedly charming new southern-fried take on Dickens. And although we hardly need yet another Christmas Carol, this musical one (originally crafted for Parton’s Dollywood theme park) feels fresh thanks to its transposition to Depression-era East Tennessee, where Parton herself grew up in poverty.

That lends biting authenticity to a rootin’-tootin’ tale that might otherwise tip into mawkishness, or outright parody, what with its homespun wisdom and references to moonshine, mules and possum-eating. Yes, there’s definite idealising of the small-town folk, cosily costumed by Linda Roethke in plaid shirts and knitted jumpers. But Alison Pollard’s production glimpses a tough reality too: sick children, crippling debts, men dying down the mine.

Scrooge rules that mine with an iron fist, as well as the general store – vividly rendered in Scott Davis’s timber-framed set. A moustachioed Robert Bathurst supplies a brusque capitalist-fanatic who considers charity to be “un-American”. Parton’s lyrics contain an accusatory line comparing his cold heart to an incoming blizzard, but otherwise she’s in devout mode, her gospel-tinged country songs (most written for the show) proclaiming Christmas a time for faith and family. That, in itself, feels like a radical act.

The score is gorgeously sung, with stirring harmonies, by a talented ensemble that includes George Maguire, Olivier-winner for the Kinks musical Sunny Afternoon. He makes an unforgettable appearance as Marley, bathed in red light and twirling his chains manically as he testifies about the fires of Hell. Sarah O’Connor and Danny Whitehead duet tenderly in Three Candles, while Vicki Lee Taylor beautifully begins the standout company number Appalachian Snowfall.

It’s this emotionally direct music that thaws Scrooge. Most effectively, the final phantom is a lone violin (Corey Wickens, sensational) chivvying the miser into action, until – hallelujah! – Scrooge is not just changed, but “saved”, swapping bah humbug for yeehaw. Bathurst bursts into gleeful song at the climax, and the sentiment is there (if few of the notes). The onstage band also features guitar, banjo, mandolin and washboard, accompanying the vigorous jigs and thigh-slapping hoedowns.

Y’all might wish for more of Parton’s legendary naughtiness (as seen in her West End hit 9 to 5), particularly in the syrupy second half. And a miners’ strike, with fatalities, makes too little impact. But there’s a disarming sincerity to the whole venture. When it’s the straight-talking Dolly sharing her belief in spiritual, not just material, wealth, you’re inclined to buy it. This is a Christmas Carol with a whole lotta soul.

Until Jan 8. Tickets: 020 3879 9555; southbankcentre.co.uk