photo by john watts
PANTO OR NOT PANTO 38
Winter 2012 CREATIVE SUGAR
For a country that has championed the business of show more than any other, it is confounding that America has not yet plundered the theatrical treasure that is Panto. Panto is short for pantomime, but never use that word on these shores, as folks arrive dumbfounded, expecting to see Marcel Marceau. PANTO IS NOT MIME, though it does borrow from the European tradition of Commedia. Panto, so far, is a distinctly British thing, which also means it has some foundation in Blighty’s Commonwealth parts (oh the Raj!). In American terms, elements of the form exist in vaudeville, musical theatre, children’s theatre and even sports events, yet it is more than the sum of these parts. According to the Little Oxford Dictionary (which is the perfect size for Transatlantic travel), pantomime is:“n. dramatic usu. Christmas entertainment based on fairy-tale.” But so few words do a grave disservice to the highly physical and fabulous spectacle that is an essential staple of the British and Irish festive calendar. Panto takes a well-known fairytale or fable, with its external dynamic of Good versus Evil, and a melting pot cast of larger than life characters, usually featuring a principal boy who’s a girl, a dame who is a large and entirely unfeminine dude, and even a horse of two people (the rear role being the low point in any actor’s career). This mix is then stirred with a healthy dose of local colour and satire and songs that may be parodies or direct copies of current popular music. Hilarity ensues with the vast amounts of irreverence and innuendo that any British accent allows. And the vital garnish of the form is audience interaction, in routines that have become as familiar as smog to the Brits, such as “He’s behind you,” “Oh no he isn’t,” and/ or “Oh yes he is,” with liberal usage of jeering and hissing, along with any other schtick that may pop up during the course of a show. Christmastime would just not be Christmastime without a Panto (whatever your religious stripe, or lack of, might be). Not only is Panto the most genuine and big-hearted fulfillment of the “fun for the entire family” cliché, but it is really the most democratizing form of theatre imaginable: if people only go to the theatre once a year – or even once in a lifetime - they ought to go to a Panto. In fact, it is usually the first live entertainment that British children see. And it exists on every level, from scout-huts in the boon-dog-shires to the fanciest playhouses in London’s West End. As such, Panto has been saving British theatre since the days of David Garrick, putting bums on seats since the early 1700s. When the aforementioned actor-manager first began managing the Drury Lane theatre, circa 1747,