There is nothing like a dame Print E-mail
Whether you take the family to the local theatre for a 'hiss and boo' matinee or take part in your WI or am-dram production, nothing beats the quintessentially English panto. Anna Milford investigates...and participates! (Oh yes she does!) If the hero is played by a thigh-slapping girl, the widowed mother wears hob-nailed boots and the villain is hissed off stage, it can mean only one thing - panto time is here again.

Everyone knows pantomime is only for Christmas. Cinderella, Aladdin, Snow White, Dick Whittington and Jack & the Beanstalk have been the season's favourites for several years (pantos fall in and out of favour for no good reason, it seems), relegating Little Red Riding Hood, Old King Cole and Humpty Dumpty to theatres in the sticks, if performed at all. The ever-popular Peter Pan is a traditional play for children, not a pantomime - how could it be one without a dame?

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Theatre Royal Newcastle - Jack & the Beanstalk
From Dame Trot to Widow Twankey


Dames are in a class of their own - bossy, brassy, blonde-wigged harridans - but at heart kind, helpful and good. Ugly Sisters, scheming brothers and wicked uncles have no redeeming features and are evil through and through. Dames may get their man, any man, in the end, but the horrible siblings - never!

In the opera house Mozart's Magic Flute is staged as High Art revealing Eternal Truths, but to the original Viennese audience it was much closer to pantomime. Likewise the clog-dancing dame in the ballet La Fille Mal Gardée is more Widow Twankey than Anna Pavlova and in some productions The Mikado teeters on the edge of panto. The French are ardent fans of mime and the Japanese of stylised Noh, while purists claim panto stems from the ritualistic gestures of the non-speaking Roman Pantomimus.
 
For all the topical jokes and sugary songs, pantomimes are still at heart the age-old morality plays from which they stem. Their provenance can be traced back much further back than Columbine and Harlequin of the Commedia dell'Arte, or the travelling mystery plays that went down so well in the Middle Ages. Even though the actors wore masks, the ancient world was familiar with all the stock characters we cheer and boo today: the young lovers, the jealous rival, the devoted servant and the elderly buffoon.

In the shadows


Sidekicks are faithful friends of the Principal Boy who never get the girl, notably Dandini in Cinderella. Skin parts include the back end of the horse, elephant or camel, although the Cow in Jack in the Beanstalk and Whittington's Cat are star performers. The Babes, the Chorus, the Village Maidens, the Woodcutter's Sons and everyone else in 'another part of the wood' are equally essential.

Good triumphs over evil, virtue is rewarded, villains get their comeuppance, occasionally even redemption, and true love always wins through. Unlike romantic novels the yearning lovers are the least interesting characters. Alice Fitzwarren and Dick Whittington are no match for King Rat, or Peter Pan and Wendy for Captain Hook.
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Theatre Royal, Norwich - Cinderella


The Dame is not a male character in drag, he is a man dressed up as a woman. Everyone in the audience knows it and trendy producers forget it at their peril. The Dame is a recognisable Les Dawson or Ronnie Corbet, never a Liberace even though, perhaps for fear of discrimination legislation, there are an increasing number of Principal Boys around who are boys. Thigh-slapping boys are one thing, but the roof will surely fall in on the first female Dame.

The flash of a shapely leg is hardly a head-turner today, but to Victorian males a neat ankle let alone curvaceous flesh above the knee was titillating in the extreme, hence the popularity of the Christmas pantomime. There, surrounded by his family, dear Papa could ogle the luscious limbs of the Principal Boy to his heart's content.

Pepys at the Playhouse


Pretty, witty Nell was untouchable as the king's mistress, but that tireless theatre-goer Samuel Pepys drooled to see her strutting her stuff in breeches at Drury Lane. In 1668 he found Southwark Fair very dirty but enjoyed "the puppet show of Whittington which was very pretty"  - the first mention of this rags-to-riches favourite.

Striking the right balance with audiences of children, teenagers, parents, grandparents and assorted others is tricky, but this is Family Entertainment - vulgar is in, coarse is out. The script should be fresh but recognisable, the plot strong but familiar and audience participation mandatory. Jokes can, nay must, be corny old chestnuts but not blue.