The Christmas Effect

Tod Petersen, the forty-seven-year-old actor and cocreator of A Christmas Carole Petersen, Theatre Latté Da’s wildly successful holiday show, is sitting across the table from me, sipping tea. There’s a disconnect between the private, mild-mannered man I see before me and the animated actor I’ve seen on the Loring Playhouse stage, prancing around like a four-year-old boy hyped-up on candy and impersonating the endearing eponym of the show—his mother, Carole. Now in its sixth year, Carole, which runs through December 31, has quickly amassed a dedicated following of thousands of Midwesterners (more than 10,000 people have seen the show), from timid Christian hausfraus to flamboyant agnostics, from loyal Yuletide carolers to the most jaded of atheists.

Based on Tod’s life and his aversion as an adult to his family’s Norman Rockwell–inspired Christmas traditions, Carole spans four decades, beginning with his birth and concluding with the present. It is told through vignettes, songs, and letters, with Petersen acting both main characters—himself and his mother. As the play progresses, he transforms from a bright-eyed boy who used to love Christmas into a spiritually conflicted adult. At the end, he’s able to set aside his reservations and enjoy what he loves most about the holidays—spending time with his loved ones, without the stress of commercialism and forced reverence. By performing Carole every year, Petersen has found a way to keep his family traditions alive and address his misgivings about the holiday season at the same time.

Petersen’s skepticism about Christmas may explain the appeal of his show. “I think the show’s successful because my character questions Christmas,” he says. He believes people in the audience relate to his feelings of ambivalence and isolation during the holidays, when things are supposed to be “happy, happy, happy!”, as Carole’s character in the play intones, but rarely are. “I’m kind of cranky at Christmastime,” he says. “My loneliness comes up, [and] I resent the proliferation of Christmas. It takes up a quarter of our calendar, and not everybody’s Christian.”

Petersen was born in Hawaii, but was raised mostly in Mankato by his United Methodist parents, Dwain and Carole Petersen. He and his three siblings are “good friends,” says Carole, who fondly remembers when Tod was little and created shows and performed them for the family. His brother, Brian, puts it another way: “Christmas in my family was a huge performance, so Tod’s carrying on that tradition. It’s an extroverted family, and there’s a lot of competition to be center stage.” (It’s telling that Brian, the self-described “shy one,” has yet to see Carole. “Maybe you should talk to my shrink about that,” he jokes.)

Another side of Petersen that emerged early was his gift for helping those who were challenged or disabled. He combined his innate empathy and performing skills and earned a degree in theater and speech with a minor in special education from Mankato State University. He then spent the next decade of his life as a touring music-theater actor, playing mostly background and character roles. “I was always the tall guy in the back row of the chorus,” he says. “That’s where I learned to act. I never thought I would have this kind of success. I never thought that what I did would mean so much to people. Great things have happened to me in my forties after years of being a blue-collar actor, and now I have a voice.”

That voice includes—in addition to performing Carole every year—performing, teaching, and working at Interact Center for the Visual and Performing Arts, an organization that helps artists with disabilities pursue and develop their art. Jeanne Calvit, Interact’s founding artistic director, has worked with Petersen since 2000. “There’s a lot of Petersen in A Christmas Carole Petersen,” she says. “There’s a healing quality to his work . . . and that’s the beauty of the show.”