Dickens Behind Bars

Grown men have literally killed to see George Younts’ one-man show, “A Christmas Carol,” adapted from a Charles Dickens classic.
Others have lied, cheated, and stolen. That’s because about half of the performances Younts presents of the holiday masterpiece are done in prisons throughout the state.
For the past eight years, West Ashley’s own Younts has taken the show to places where theater isn’t readily available, either because of incarceration or illness or finances, from his small apartment off Ashley Hall Road.
In doing so, he is literally trodding in the footsteps of Dickens, who often featured prisons and poverty and sickness in his writing, and who supported himself for years giving “readings” of the piece until his wealth arrived later in life.
Nearing his 100th show, Younts has taken “Carol” to every kind of venue imaginable: prison warehouses “that could hold a 747,” nursing homes, and homeless shelters.
Last Friday night, Younts was in character at 5th Wall Productions, a no-door storefront theater located, surprisingly, in Citadel Mall across the hall from Planet Fitness.
“Well, at least it’s not the food court,” Younts said, before emitting a quick cackle. He has performed for two people once in a retirement home, one of who, he says, was there only in body.
This night, there are about 20 in the audience, comprised largely of his students from the Charleston County School of the Arts, where he is a theater instructor.
Onstage — or in this case, a piece of white carpet lain on the floor — Younts goes through a surprising number of transformations, accompanied by only a small box and two small stools.
One second he is the crotchety Ebenezer Scrooge, with a wheezing rasp and old man’s gait. The next, he is Tiny Tim, wishing all an airy “God bless.” During one segment, he portrays three Londoners celebrating the news of Scrooge’s demise, capering quickly from one character to another.
His simple, oversized black blazer changes from Scrooge’s topcoat to a blanket to the cowl of the spirits of Christmas’ headpiece to swirling vortex in lightning fashion.
It’s the kind of transformations he hopes those he performs for in prison can find in their own lives.
Two men fresh from their workout, one with protein powder underneath his arm, stop to watch as the third apparition appears.
“The guys I’m performing for in prison, I’d like to think are trying to turn their own lives around,” says Younts, whose parents are both retired Methodist ministers, and whose brother is still active in the ministry.
Prison audiences are a mixed bag. The guys in the front rows are attentive and get annoyed when the back rows start discussing everything under the sun but what’s happening on stage.
One time, he was going to perform for death row at Lieber Correctional Institution in Ridgeville, but, he says, one of the guards got stabbed that day, and they had to postpone.
Regardless, Younts has returned many times to Lieber, performing as well as teaching various classes in Shakespeare and improvisational theater to the inmates.
Younts has had some warm welcomes in the Big House. Once, as he was packing up, the lifers at Broad River Correctional Institution in Columbia told him he wasn’t going anywhere; they were going to feed him.
It seems that an area church had sent in a meal to support the show and the lifers couldn’t eat it unless Younts supped with them. So, after presenting a 65-minute play rife with a trinity of ghosts and a story of redemption, Younts had dinner.
The dinner conversation was lively, he said, but even though it’s taboo to discuss the reasons behind their incarceration, Younts said they let on that “they had done some not very nice things” to earn their spots at the table.
Younts gets his shows into the prisons through the chaplaincy and with the help of small but welcomed grants from the CPBY Endowment and anonymous donors.
He also receives assistance from the City of Charleston Office of Cultural Affairs and the City of North Charleston through their joint administration of the Lowcountry Quarterly Arts Grant Endowment for the Arts and the John and Susan Bennett Memorial Arts Fund of the Coastal Community Foundation of South Carolina.
Despite the support, the budget for “Carol” is almost as threadbare as one of Bob Cratchet’s coats. It totals $1,000, which goes for gas for his 1996 Toyota Tacoma, set pieces, costumes, food, and the occasional overnight in a cheap motel.
Regardless, Younts trundles on; steadfast in his belief that theater needs to be open to everyone, not just to those who can afford a ticket at a Broadway show.