Darci Lynne Brings Puppet Magic to Rockefeller Center: Christmas Just Got a Talking Rabbit

Beneath a 75-foot spruce dripping with 50,000 lights, a 21-year-old Oklahoma girl and her felt-and-fur entourage are about to turn the world’s most famous ice rink into the world’s biggest puppet theater.

From AGT Stage to Rockefeller Royalty. Darci Lynne Farmer, the 2017 America’s Got Talent champion who stunned 15 million viewers with a singing rabbit, headlines NBC’s Christmas at Rockefeller Center on December 3, 2025. Producers booked her after a Zoom audition where Petunia the bunny belted “O Holy Night” in perfect harmony while Darci sipped hot cocoa. “She’s Disney, Broadway, and grandma’s living room in one package,” executive producer Brad Lachman told Entertainment Weekly. “The tree asked for her by name.”

The Setlist: Eight Minutes of Ventriloquial Wonder. Darci opens with “Silent Night” as a duet: her crystalline soprano trading verses with Oscar the mouse’s squeaky counter-melody. Mid-song, 100 kids from NYC after-school programs pop up on the rink in animal-ear headbands, harmonizing the final refrain. The showstopper: “O Holy Night” performed by Darci and Petunia—Petunia handling the high B-flat while Darci’s mouth stays closed, jaw-dropping proof of ventriloquial virtuosity. She’ll weave in “Jingle Bells” as a three-puppet jam (Ivan the grouch on bass voice, Katie the cat on scat), then premiere “Puppet Under the Tree,” a new original where Santa’s workshop comes alive. Closes with “We Wish You a Merry Christmas,” every puppet waving LED wands in sync with the tree.

Stagecraft: Felt Meets Frost in Perfect Harmony. Wardrobe by Project Runway’s Edmond Newton: Darci in emerald velvet romper with crystal snowflakes; puppets in matching miniature outfits. The heated plexiglass stage doubles as a puppet runway—Petunia “skates” on hidden magnets. Rehearsals are pure joy: Rockettes learn bunny-hop choreography; Darci teaches them to throw their voices; the tree’s 50,000 LEDs flash pink when Petunia hits high C. Hidden gem: a faint kazoo solo by Oscar during the bridge of “Jingle Bells,” recorded in Darci’s childhood bedroom.

A Voice (and Voices) That Defy Physics. Post-vocal-rest from her 2025 tour collapse, Darci’s range is stronger—low G in “Silent Night” warm as cocoa, whistle note in “Puppet Under the Tree” pure as bells. Ventriloquism coach Mark Wade says she now throws her voice 40 feet without a mic. Soundcheck halts traffic on 49th; a pretzel vendor drops his tongs when Petunia “orders” mustard. Darci signs the cart: “Merry Christmas, from Petunia.”

Cultural Magic: Oklahoma Meets Oz. Theme—“Joy in Every Voice”—mirrors Darci’s journey. Montage splices 2017 AGT footage (14-year-old Darci crying with Simon’s golden buzzer) with 2025 shots of 50,000 faces lit by tree-glow. Guests: Terry Fator (duet on “Frosty the Snowman” with competing puppets), the original 1967 tree choir (now grandparents, singing “Rudolph” in counterpoint), and a surprise cameo by Howie Mandel, who gets “roasted” by Ivan mid-song. Ratings forecast: 22 million viewers—NBC’s biggest family draw ever.

Behind the Curtain: A Mission Bigger Than Muppets. Darci funds 1,200 tickets for foster kids via her “Dreams Come Alive” foundation—each child gets a mini-Petunia plush and a Puppet Under the Tree CD. Between takes, she hosts puppet-making workshops with stagehands; one grip, a single dad, leaves with a handmade Oscar for his daughter. No rider demands—just root beer, glitter glue, and a sign: “Laughter is the best echo.”

Manhattan Giggles, Then Gasps in Unison. As “O Holy Night” peaks—Petunia holding the final note while Darci sips water, mouth closed—fireworks burst into a bunny silhouette. Drones spell “BELIEVE.” Snow confetti falls; the plaza becomes a playground of wonder. Taxis honk in rhythm. For eight whimsical minutes, Christmas isn’t scripted—it’s spontaneous.

When the tree ignites on December 3, 2025—50,000 lights, one talking rabbit—it won’t just brighten Rockefeller Center. It will crown a girl who once practiced in her garage, gifting a cynical world a night where puppets preach joy, and every child remembers: magic isn’t make-believe—it’s make-believable.