by Family friendly. Camp. Men in drag. As an American in Britain, my knowledge of pantomime was clearly limited when I walked into Hackney Empire to watch Aladdin a few weeks ago. I walked out forever changed, feeling more British than I had ever been.
After three years living in London, this Festival period felt like the right time to experience this most unique of British art forms. So I booked myself into one but two pants – first at Hackney then at the Broadway Theater in Catford – to immerse myself in the world of ladies, best boys, fairy tale princes and princesses and, as that, someone called Buttons.
So Empire came first, and there was no doubting the show we were about to see: as I entered the auditorium, there was a giant pink backdrop screaming Aladdin’s name in gold. All around me, families found their seats excited, a real sense of anticipation rising.
The panto at Hackney Empire is one of London’s most loved, and is now directed by Clive Rowe, who also stars as the Dame (this year he played Widow Twankey). However, the night I broke my panto duck he made an unscheduled appearance before the curtain up.
With a full face, wearing a dressing gown, he announced that the actor playing Aladdin was too ill to continue. As was his understudy. Instead, the production manager would be participating. But…
But as is the mantra in British theater – and this is the most British thing in theater – the show must go on, and in a way it did. In fact the interruption that killed most of the live shows added to the glorious chaos that began to surround me.
A large cast bounced on the stage and the song immediately appeared in front of brightly colored backdrops of fairy tale scenes. At first I was nonplussed, what is this worth?
I am a West End junkie, regularly attending some of the best examples of theatre, especially musicals, in this or any other country. Sitting in the auditorium in east London, Aladdin was unlike anything I had seen before. It was just like that… loose! So… weird! So… relaxed! And to embrace the spirit I realized I just had to relax and go with it.
As most readers know, panto stories are drawn from famous fairy tales such as Cinderella, Aladdin and Jack and the Beanstalk – but the writers develop some characters, add different characters – usually for comic effect – and of course add a few extra twists and turns, as well as a truckload of jokes. Good jokes, bad jokes, dirty jokes all on top of each other.
Before I went, I was confused because I was reading the history of panto and it turned out that the early forms were silent. Was I to be subjected to hours of wordless signaling, an idea that sounded worse than pulling teeth. Fortunately, there are words, lots of them, and they’ve been around since the mid-19th century. Funny, witty words, with relatable themes and underlying big questions. Phew.
These disorganized stories are not just about humor and social satire. Because of three years in London I got all the jokes about the economy and why a south Londoner wouldn’t want to live north of the river. In my second panto, Jack and the Beanstalk at Catford, there were consistent references to the cost of living crisis and an antagonist called Boris the Cockroach. The audience yelled ”lying cockroach” every time he introduced himself.
Another difference from the West End, and what makes panto truly magical, is audience participation. So many children get their first theater experience through the pan, and it’s such a warm, inclusive experience that it can inspire a lifelong love of live performance.
It took all of Aladdin Act I – and sugar from almost a pint of Coca-Cola – before I became an active participant. ”Boo!” I yelled, lifting myself up from my seat. The baddie announced that she was a Tottenham fan herself. Not on my watch.
During the show, more yelling from around the house. “It’s behind you!” “Oh, no!” “Oh, it is!” “Boo!” “He!” “You wish you were so lazy”. And at my second panto, I was all in. A house full of enthusiastic participants roaring reactions at the stage liven everything up.
I sat in the stalls at Catford Broadway, I began to see common themes and tropes. You better bring an audience member up on stage – it’s real gold. As seasoned panto-goers know, the Dame is always the one to choose and, naturally, she tends to choose the most uncomfortable man in the audience (men, you’ve been warned).
Although the initial conversation is flirty, fun and sprinkled with sexual innuendos, it doesn’t stop there. I was so happy to see the Dame shameless with her victim for the rest of the show. Her discomfort was amusing to all.
Frankly, there’s nothing quite like Dama – my favorite element of panto. A man dressed as a woman whose outfits could walk the carpet at the Met Gala – yes, Queen! Of the Dames I saw, both delivered cheeky one-liners and were riveted to their domestic duties with motherly charm (Derek Elroy played Dame Dolores at Catford). They brought out sweets and, sometimes, their underwear was on full display. What virtuosos…
At the end of the pantos, I was very happy as all bad turns to good. Surprisingly, I did not expect this because traditional fairy tales do not end like this. The worst thing that happens to the baddie in the panto is a pie on the face or being soaked by a water cannon. It is suitable for a production aimed at family fun. The hero, of course, saves the day and the lovely Dame finds love – and I love that for her.
Panto in its original forms may have arisen from commedia dell’arte but modern productions feel essentially British quay end fun. And yet, I think American audiences would accept it – give or take some of the jokes that might need explaining.
Even after seeing two pantos, when an American friend asked what the art form was I wasn’t sure what she would tell her. It is something that must be experienced. It’s messy, chaotic and silly but you’ll leave with a smile on your face and a spirited love of British theatre.
Both Aladdin and Jack and the Beanstalk have finished but pantos are still running around London this month
