A Christmas Carol and The Magic Flute are given exciting African treatments at The Young Vic, writes A. S. H. SMYTH

Both these stories are about the progression from Ignorance and Want (as Dickens had it) to Understanding and Fulfilment. These are big topics, prone to clichéd treatment, and I was particularly nervous about seeing Victorian heartlesness transposed to South Africa . . .

But, though guilty post-colonial Brits would doubtless have lapped up a depiction of a white mine-boss whipping his indentured workers, Mark Dornford-May's Ikrismas Karol is not so lazy, choosing instead to tackle deep-seated problems in the New' South Africa: entrenched poverty, poor education, and, of course, Aids.

When Cratchitt tries to raise money for Tiny Thembisa's (Posoletso Sejosingoe) education even his flat-broke comrades in the mines of Egoli - Johannesburg, City of Gold' - will donate. But Scrooge (or uScrooge) sees things differently: "I pay my taxes . . ." she huffs. The destitute, she reasons, just aren't trying.

Pauline Malefane (who also co-wrote the words and music) plays uScrooge, a black middle-class businesswoman who closes her eyes to the deprivation around her. Aids claimed her sister, who had worked as a prostitute to support them. Jacob Marley, uScrooge's former business partner, likewise, is an Aids spectre. But far from making uScrooge sympathetic, these events have inured her to suffering - other people's especially.

Malefane pulls off the complex moral transformation in the 80 minutes allotted, but Dornford May doesn't let the matter drop so easily. When Scrooge relents and offers charity, she is flatly told that simply giving money "will solve your pain"; the people around her need more.

The Young Vic is absolutely the right place for this show: informal, noisy, multimedia. There is lots of self-aware stagecraft ("Stop singing!'" yells uScrooge to the chorus) and frequent tongue-in-cheek: Dickens is openly quoted; "wrong effect" someone quips when a snow' machine kicks into action over the township (a white' joke, too? It's possible.) In the context of an impressive orchestra of organic sound-effects - replicating everything from the rattling mine-shaft cage to the appearance of ghosts - the highlight for me was the gumboot dancing. Never seen it? It's brilliant: Morris dancing, but with adrenaline and cheap Chinese footwear.

Having taken flak in these pages for my views on audience participation' (I recall the term "blue rinse" . . . ) my heart sank when I was seated beside a school party. But the pay-off in their vocal astonishment at uScrooge's callousness was the reminder that this is how the rest of us ought to respond to the callous everywhere, not least to distinguish ourselves from them.

Somehow the adaptation of The Magic Flute (or Impempe Yomlingo, since you ask) just isn't as clean, and I think the music is to blame. Firstly, it's hugely abridged, and this is much harder to get away with in opera than in a straight play: bluntly, if you want to hear The Magic Flute, per se, this isn't going to ring your magic bells. Secondly, The Young Vic's acoustics aren't as well suited to (even up-tempo) opera as they are to African close harmonies, and it is fair to say that - extensive training notwithstanding - the singers are culturally, technically and stylistically more proficient in the former.

This slight roughness is more-or-less excused by (almost appropriate to) the township setting, though. In any case, Mozart on marimbas is something you should definitely hear: the transcription is inventive and the performance impressive.

The same goes for the perky vernacular script: "Like any man, I eat and drink for a living," says Papageno. Almost all Papagenos are show-stealers (perhaps a little unfairly since they get almost all the jokes), but Zamile Gantana is the Everyman par excellence: "First I was afraid . . . ," he whispers . . . "I was petrified."

In his quest for a "girl by my side" he is assisted by the three Dreamgirls Spirits (skirt suits and wings as standard) who calypso their way through the normally bland Her Beauty is Beyond Compare trios, and generally add a zest that the 13-year-old choristers who traditionally fill these roles always lack.

Mhlekazi Andy Moseia plays Tamino, seeking "love and beauty" in the crucible of the townships, the updated university of life' governed by Sarastro (Simphiwe Mayeki, decked out in one of Obasanjo Olesegun's cast-off African Renaissance Leader outfits).

The Masonic culmination of Mozart's (or Schikaneder's) essay on honesty, virtue and the other universal principles has been effectively adapted to a Xhosa initiation ritual undergone by all adolescent males. Interestingly, though, the translation overtly retains the male-dominated nature of the original, including the scepticism of the elders regarding the qualifications of a potential female co-ruler. Once again, perhaps, the production team are simply calling things as they see them.

As they take their bow, the cast sincerely applaud the audience, all beaming smiles. They seem genuinely gratified to be here. I'm delighted to say the feeling is entirely mutual.

A Christmas Carol /The Magic Flute at the Young Vic until January 19. Tickets cost £21.50-£24.50 (under-26s for £9.50) on 0207 922 2922 or visit the www.youngvic.org website.