This Side of the Pond

When I told my husband the other day that I was thinking of renaming the cat “Widow Twankey” because she always seems to be behind me no matter how many times I turn around, I wasn’t expecting quite the confusion I was met with. It seems, even now, there are still some holiday traditions that seem perfectly normal to my people…but might not be so understandable everywhere else.

Widow Twankey, you see, is a traditional character from a type of play put on all across the UK over the holiday season: the pantomime. She turns up when the story is based on Aladdin and is what’s known as a pantomime dame, so she’s larger-than-life and decked out in the most elaborate costume you can imagine with a huge wig and enormous fake eyelashes.

Though her costume and name will change depending on the story, the pantomime dame is always there on the stage. Oh, and for some reason she’s almost always played by a man.

The pantomime is about as British as it gets. As you read this, some families back in the motherland are still eagerly clutching their ticket stubs as they wait for the curtains to be drawn.

At some point during that performance, the baddie will sneak up behind one of Widow Twankey’s cast mates (or those of her pantomime dame counterpart), and they will appear to have no idea what’s happening. Were you in the audience, that would be your cue to yell, “It’s behind you” at the top of your lungs.

This is because pantomime is as much about the audience as it is the actors on the stage. When you enter the theater, you become a participant in a ridiculous, fairy tale-based escapade complete with song, dance and very little logic.

You won’t find this a problem, because the rules of a pantomime are always the same, no matter the story being told. Whether it’s Peter Pan or Sleeping Beauty, it is guaranteed to be true that there will come a point during the performance when somebody is behind somebody else and it’s very important you warn them about it.

It is also your responsibility to shout “boooooo” as loudly as you can every time the baddie appears on stage. This is to alert the kindhearted heroine and the brave hero of the story, the latter of whom is always played by a woman, again for no good reason I can come up with.

You will also at some point during the story hear a character say, “Oh yes it is!” You must respond with, “Oh no it isn’t!” immediately, no matter what the conversation is about or what your personal feelings may be about whether it is or it’s not. You must do this precisely three times per play, no more and no fewer.

If you are one of the hallowed group of chosen ones asked to go up on stage and help the good guys win the day, you must do so without complaint. This is vital, because without your assistance, good will never be able to overcome evil.

Finally, the story will not be able to finish unless you, dear audience member, join in with the final song. This will not be as scary an experience as it sounds because the characters will helpfully hold up flashcards bearing the words (and because there will be so many people singing that it won’t matter if you don’t know the tune).

As well as being a surreal yet entertaining experience, pantomime also serves as a handy fame barometer, because almost all of them feature some “celebrity guest stars”. It might be a beloved tradition, but the pantomime is not the most prestigious gig in the world, so if an actor, tv host or musician turns up on the billboard for this year’s performance of Cinderella in Skegness, the cliché goes that it’s a sure sign they are no longer raking in the job offers.

Consequently, you can expect all but the most well-funded pantomimes to feature some woman who once starred in three episodes of a soap opera, a musician who hasn’t released a single in 20 years and the guy who introduced cartoons on Saturday morning television when you were ten years old. Each probably a worthy talent in their own right, but not the kind of box office-busting list that Hollywood prefers on its posters.

Quaint it may be, but the annual pantomime does have one positive effect that not even the Grinch could argue with. It introduces the kiddiwinks to the joy of theater and often creates a relationship that lasts for life.

But though it’s as British as a cup of tea and we’ve been shouting “booooooooo” at bad guys for at least a few hundred years, pantomime wasn’t our idea in the first place. It evolved from Italian street theater, inspired by the small touring companies who told stories of an old man called Pantalone, a clown called Pierrot and the girl in love with the naughty servant.

Before that, in the Middle Ages, we didn’t have harlequins and singalongs and had to rely on the Mummers Play, which told the much less exciting story of St. George singlehandedly vanquishing the dragon and saving the damsel in distress. You’d have to be pretty oblivious not to know there was a dragon behind you, so there wasn’t much for the audience to do.

Personally, I like to get involved in the battle for good over evil, so if you’re ever in the audience of a play with me, don’t be surprised if I feel compelled to join in – I’ve been trained since childhood to help the cast along. And if you’re thinking it’s a strange way to entertain the masses, I have only one thing to say to you: oh no it isn’t!