HARRY PEARSON
THE BIG TEES
In an issue where we celebrate all things festive and fun, our columnist
Harry Pearson takes a walk on the Widow Twankey side to wax lyrical
about the beloved British pantomime…
A
nyone who thinks gender fluidity
is a new thing obviously didn’t pay
enough attention to British popular
culture back in the last four decades of the
20th century.
Or, as a friend of mine once summarised,
“In the USA men dressing up as women is
considered avant-garde and revolutionary,
whereas in Britain it’s just your average
Saturday night family entertainment.”
You can see what he means. After all, in
New York a story featuring a handsome
young male hero who’s actually a woman
and a lovelorn old lady who is, in fact, a man
would be a song by Lou Reed and the Velvet
Underground, whereas here it’s a Christmas
panto that young and old can enjoy. A Walk
on the Widow Twankey Side.
Pantomime as we know it today was
developed back in Victorian times by music
hall comedians such as Dan Leno (the
boyhood hero of Stan Laurel) and by the
start of the new century was more or less a
fixture at theatres all over the UK during the
festive season.
My first encounter with the weird and
wonderful world of principal boys and
dames came at the age of seven. As a treat
for my Bafta-nominated performance as
The Innkeeper in Guisborough Park Lane
Infant School’s Christmas nativity play I was
taken to the church hall to see the annual
village pantomime (I only had one line, but
in a Meryl Streep-like moment of acting
magic made the most of it by knocking over
the Wendy house that was doubling as the
stable).
The production of Babes in the Wood was
organised by the local Young Farmers Club.
Anyone who knows anything about young
farmers will be aware that there is nothing
they like better than cross-dressing.
The slightest excuse – family fun day,
village carnival, outbreak of swine fever –
will inevitably be the cue for hordes of burly,
58
ruddy-cheeked sons of the soil to don taffeta
frocks, fishnet tights, lipstick and wellington
boots and cavort about the place.
The phenomenon of farming transvestism
is so well known there are some who suspect
there must be an EU subsidy for it, though
this is by no means the case.
Sadly, I can remember little about the
production, save that it involved a huge
amount of yelling, shouting, bawling and
cries of “Oh no, I’m not!” and “Oh yes, you
are!”, most of which came from my grandad
when my nan told him she’d bought him a
ticket and he was coming “Whether he liked
it or not”, even if there was boxing on the
telly.
Later that same Christmas I went on a
trip to see a professional panto at the ABC
Stockton (The Globe Theatre as it was and
now is again). This was much more exciting
as it was also the first time I got to see a pop
group.
The ABC made a habit of booking bands
as part of the panto. In previous years
they’d had Cliff Richard and Shadows, Billy
J Kramer and the
Dakotas and the Rockin’
Berries (it would be nice to think The Rolling
Stones had once appeared in Mother Goose,
but sadly I can find no evidence, though
Mick Jagger would have been brilliant in the
title role).
Now, as part of the cast of Dick
Whittington, we had Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky,
Mick and Tich, whose hit singles You Make
It Move, Touch Me, Touch Me and Bend It!
admittedly don’t sound all that suitable for a
family audience.
Leading the rest of cast was Scottish
comedian Alex Munro, who’d appeared in On
The Buses, but I don’t remember him. In fact,
the only thing I do recall of the show is that
during the band’s rendition of their future
number one hit The Legend of Xanadu Dave
Dee cracked a massive bullwhip while my
mum tutted and said: “He’ll have someone's
eye out with that”.
Luckily, there was no health and safety in
those days – getting injured, like dragging
up, was all part of the festive fun.