“It’s a panto in a church hall, Elsie, what’s the worst that could happen?”

In her acknowledgments at the end of The Christmas Appeal, author Janice Hallett reveals that she never had any intention of writing a sequel to her stunning debut novel from 2021, The Appeal. It was not until she sat down and began to actually write a Christmas mystery novella at the behest of her UK editor that a return to Lower Lockwood and its resident dysfunctional community theatre company known as the Fairway Players seemed like a good idea. 

Honestly, it’s a great idea! Fond as I am of Hallett’s two follow-up novels, The Twyford Code and The Mysterious Case of the Alperton Angels, The Appeal remains my favorite for its hilarious take on amateur theatrics (Hallett cheerfully admits to her own thirty years of experience with The Raglan Players of Northolt) and for the way Hallett weaves together through texts, e-mails and WhatsApp conversations a puzzle mystery that is as funny as it is clever. Whatever narrative forms Hallett chooses to take as her career marches on, with this epistolary form she has mastered both the furtherance of complex plots and the creation of multi-faceted characters whom you like, then loathe, then suspect, then like again, then smack your head for not continuing to suspect. 

Chief among these characters for me in The Appeal was Isabel Beck, the bright-eyed sociopath who became my favorite literary character of the year. When The Christmas Appeal was first announced, I reached out to Ms. Hallett on Twitter (not X, never X) and asked her if Issy would be back. Her response? “Wait and see.” I’m not going to tell you if Issy makes a return in this Christmas mystery. In fact, it’s difficult to tell you anything about the book without spoiling not just plot points, but jokes that keep paying off again and again. But here’s the gist: 

The Fairway Players are under new management – and shakier ground – with a community that is growing in leaps and bounds, thanks to two new housing developments: the tony mansions of Hayward Heights, and the far more egalitarian public housing at the Grange Estate. Their last production went through major upheavals due to roof damage in the Church Hall where the company performs, and so the powers-that-be have decided to dedicate all profits of their annual Christmas pantomime, Jack and the Beanstalk, to the Church’s roof repair disaster. 

The bulk of the novella chronicles the rehearsal period and one-night-only performance of the panto which, as one would hope, becomes an ever-brewing recipe for disaster. The power struggles going on amongst the company’s new leadership sets the troubles rolling, coupled with co-chair and play director Sarah-Jane McDonald’s desire for this to be the biggest and best panto that Lower Lockwood has ever seen. To that end, she has even gone so far as to rent the enormous beanstalk that had been built on the West End and that it turns out the company had used decades before when it had previously staged Jack.

The simmering jealousies and domestic secrets of the Players help move the plot along, and they are helped along with the injection of “new blood” that every community theatre company hopes for until they discover the baggage each new person carries with them. What happened to the wealthy couple who were cast in the play and never showed up to rehearsals? What’s the story of the shy man in the chorus who looks familiar and is bursting with talent? Can the panto appease the prospective audience member who demands an environment that is gender-neutral, allergen-free and committed to net-zero emissions and data-protection? And what are we to make of the “returned murderer” who has been spotted in town?”

As long as the book sticks to this period, it is laugh-out loud funny. But this is also a murder mystery, and it sticks to the same format as before: a retired solicitor texts his two favorite junior lawyers and asks them to look over a series of texts, e-mails, and messages in order to determine a certain course of action. For me, this element was far less successful this time around, mainly because it took us away from the main show in Lower Lockwood and also because ultimately this is not so much a mystery as it is a Christmas mystery. The questions being asked of the lawyers far less complex answers here than in The Appeal, and frankly the conclusions that these attorneys draw felt too facile to be of much interest or use to the reader.   

But you know what? I wouldn’t worry too much about that. The Christmas Appeal will warm your heart and tickle your funny bone. It may not stand alone without your having read The Appeal beforehand (and honestly which of you hasn’t read The Appeal, and for heaven’s sake, why???), but I’d like to think that this is the author’s gift to us, her fans, who have been with Ms. Hallett from the beginning and are excited to see where she will take us next. Chances are she will not return again to Lower Lockwood, and I don’t blame her. But if The Appeal was my favorite gift of 2021, the tiny volume that is The Christmas Appeal is the perfect stocking stuffer. And, like The Ghost of Christmas Past, to whom the book is dedicated, it will take you back to those earlier times, to the nightmare of All My Sons that centered The Appeal, and to happy memories of similarly fraught community theatre productions in which so many of us have participated.