Oh no it isn’t!
Oh yes it is!
’Tis the season for that most British of entertainments, the pantomime. For far flung readers (hello!) I should perhaps explain that this theatrical tradition, heir to the Commedia del Arte, Restoration theatre with audience participation and the last gasp of the music hall, is the only thing known to drag Brits of all ages and types from the warmth of indoors in the coldest part of the year out into live theatre for an afternoon or evening. Pantomime flourishes across the land, frequently starring slebs, soap opera principles and last year’s one-hit-wonder pop stars.
The base of what, for want of a better word, I shall loosely call the plot, is one of a handful. Cinderella, Babes in the Wood, Aladdin, Mother Goose and a few others are mostly derived from eighteenth century fairy tales. Just like the Commedia del Arte, the stock characters are of more importance to the audience than the story. Audience participation is actively encouraged. Sweets (candy) are thrown into the audience, cute children are invited on to the stage, characters ask the audience ‘have you seen…….?’ the answer is always ‘behind you!’.
The Principle Boy is invariably played by a girl, frequently an ageing pop star with good legs because the costume is usually tights and boots and the actor will be required to slap their thighs often and swagger, a strange archaic skill, which tradition would have us believe proliferated in the eighteenth century. The main comic figure will be the Dame, a man dressed as a woman but very detectably a man, although usually as camp as a row of tents. The Baddie will be extremely exaggerated, like all the characters, and will be booed loudly by the audience each time he appears. There is often a transformation scene in which the stage set, by means of levers and pulleys, will change, without the lights being dimmed, into something astounding at which the audience is required to gasp.
So now you know the basics, prepare for the JaneLaverick.com theatrical experience of a lifetime, or possibly, the next three minutes. Before you begin, if you are keen to endure the most authentic entertainment possible it will be necessary for you to fetch a few things and have them on the train seat/office desk/ table/ park bench next to you. So before I begin (it’s all right, I’ll wait while you get them) please fetch: screen wipes, a quarter cup of liquid – the dregs of a coffee cup will do, a pinch of salt, a fan heater, a plastic cup full of confetti/paper scraps/holes from the punch machine, a small bag of candy/lunchtime biscuit/sandwich, a small stick/pen/pointer, a wet sheep.
Got them? Right now dim the auditorium lights and bring up the stage lights (or, locally, look around, close your eyes slowly and open them focussed only on the screen) (see how authentic this is? If you want extra verisimilitude get someone behind you to cough occasionally.) Hum a bit, getting louder and louder (very good, I had no idea you were so musical) and now…….
Da da la da da da daaaa tish!
Jane Laverick productions in association with nobody much presents……………………………………………………………
A Lad In Boots In A Wood.
Scene 1 A wood with trees (Move the office plant next to the computer)
Enter A Lad (A reality TV star with silicone breasts, liposuctioned legs, hair extensions, lash extensions and half a ton of stage makeup. She is wearing green tights, a short laced green jerkin and gold boots with five inch heels. This is not the comedy act, this is the hero.)
A Lad (with a theatrical gesture) Hello! (The audience erupts, cries, catcalls, cheers etc) I am lost. I am a poor but noble boy who works day and night for a person who I believe is my wicked uncle but who really bought me from a slave market when I was a child. Ah! Here comes my wicked uncle now, I had better look busy. (Starts gathering prop wood scattered across the stage.)
Enter a wicked uncle. (Audience participation- hiss as loudly as you can- get a tissue wipe the screen- hiss some more)
Wicked Uncle There you are A Lad! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.
Member of the audience (getting carried away by the glamour of it all) Behind you!
Wicked Uncle (approaching the front of the stage and peering into the gloom) Not yet! Not yet! I’ll tell you if I want you to join in. (He twirls his giant mustachios and wiggles his eyebrows – the audience, rising to the occasion, hisses itself silly) (To A Lad) Right, you! Have you cleared away all the rocks and found the magic cave?
A Lad (looking blank, never a difficulty for this particular sleb) I fort I were meant to be gavering wood, like?
Wicked Uncle (dropping out of character) That was last year’s panto, you idiot.
A Lad (Dropping the wood and picking up some rocks-) I have cleared the rocks, Uncle but I cannot find the Magic cave.
Wicked Uncle Look over there (he points to a corner of the stage).
A Lad (going to the corner of the stage, peering into the audience-)I can not see nuffink.
Behind her the Wicked Uncle mutters a spell and waves his arms, to very slight gasps from the audience a stick with a cloth unrolls down the back of the stage, on it is painted a cave filled with gold. Before it a stage hand quickly pushes steps disguised as rocks. Meanwhile on the front corner of the stage the principle boy, A Lad, does what she does best, wiggles her silicone enhancements at the audience and mimes to her one-hit-only-ever-years-ago pop song, which, due to a cheap CD player in the wings is intermittently replaced by her own real and very awful voice.
A Lad. Someday my love will come
On wings ov fevvers
And riding a horse, made of the misty dreams of love
And I shall adopt orfins lalalalala
And my heart shall sing
And get to number one and sack my agent
Misty dreams they are not real
Misty dreams they’re how you feel
Misty dreams, misty dreams, misty dreams.
Wicked Uncle Never mind the singing, come and help me carry the gold.
A Lad (Running up stage) Oh Uncle look at all the gold!
Wicked Uncle I was an investment banker long before I was a politician, my lad and before that I ran a chain of debt collection agencies! You don’t get this sort of offshore investment without many of your poorly paid workers taking everything off some other poorly paid workers. A lot of families got turned into the street so I could have this. You behave yourself and I’ll teach you how when I’m old and can’t manage it myself anymore. (He twirls his mustachios while the audience boo and hiss furiously. Join in : You Boo, boo, hiss, hiss, hiss. (Wipe the screen.)
A Lad Oh Uncle, how can you be so horrid?
Wicked Uncle Practice! (He starts piling gold into A Lad’s arms.)
A Lad Why are you moving the gold, Uncle? Isn’t it safer here?
Wicked Uncle I’m going to open a short-lived building and investment society for pensioners. I need it for window dressing. Once the trap is set and the silly old people have put their life savings into my society I will bring their money and my gold back here.
A Lad That’s a terrible thing to do. You mustn’t do that Uncle. I will tell someone if you do.
Wicked Uncle (Aside) Tell someone will you? I think not. (To A Lad) Give me the gold A Lad. (A Lad gives him the gold) I need a centrepiece for the window, can you fetch me that gold crown on the top of the heap at the back of the cave?
A Lad begins to climb up the heap of gold but his Wicked Uncle, stowing the gold in a trunk, flings up his arms and mutters a spell. At once another bit of scenery unrolls. On it is painted a big rock. A Lad is imprisoned in the cave. As Wicked Uncle exits dragging his trunk full of gold and laughing nastily the middle bit of the stage revolves. (You can gasp now, if you like.) We are in the cave with A Lad. The stage is hardly lit at all.
A Lad Oh I am frightened, I am in the dark. (The stage, which hasn’t completely stopped revolving, jerks.) Oh flip, now I’ve snagged me damn tights. For lo, what shall I do all alone in the dark?
Audience (You) Rub the magic lamp! Rub the magic lamp!
A Lad. No I think I’ll just switch on this magic torch. Oh it’s not working, oo forgot the flippin batteries? (Suddenly the stage lights come on. The pantomime dame, an ageing actor who has been playing similar roles for the last 30 years, appears suspended in the air wearing an improbable glittering mini dress with striped inflated pantaloons and huge curling slippers. He is the Jean Genie, and while the audience take in the full spectacle he revolves slowly to the elderly Bowie hit Jean Genie which we cannot reproduce here for copyright reasons. If you are getting right into this, however, I’d be much obliged if you could hum a bit of the chorus. I’ll start you off : The Jean Genie dadalada, the Jean Genie, let yourself go! – At which point the elderly actor falls off the rope but after a very slight pause, during which the stage hands appear a little bit round the trees, looking anxious, he picks himself up, limps to the footlights and addresses the audience.
The Jean Genie (Camply ) (no, gayer than that,) (camper than that.) (Really, really camp it up. ) (Try putting your hand on your hip.) (That’s it) ’Elo! You thought I was a gonner then didn’t you? So did I.
A Lad Oh look, a genie! Will you grant me a wish?
The Jean Genie A wish! A wish! I don’t know about a wish, I’ve just had a terrible whoosh!
A Lad Oh go on, it’s a nice new decade, let’s start with a wish. (She runs down the gold pile, theatrically and grasps the Jean Genie by his giant inflatable knockers, which squeak – though, to be fair here, the elderly actor could do the same to her with a similar outcome.)
Jean Genie By my very magic hooters, what do you wish, A Lad?
A Lad I wish my Misty Dreams would come true – (Audience participation –groans and cries of ‘not again!’) The CD player coughs and revs up into:
Someday my love will come
On the misty dreams of love that whisper
I ’ope there’s some gin in the dressing room for the interval, tra la la
Misty dreams they are not real
Misty dreams they’re how you feel
Misty dreams you stole my heart
Misty dreams I’m going to fart – thrrrrrup –
Must stop eating beans Misty Dreams,
Misty Dreams
Misty Dreams.
Jean Genie What are your misty dreams A Lad? What do you really wish?
A Lad I wish to be out of this horrid cave, in a beautiful palace, dancing in a talent contest for failed celebrities and winning and dancing with a beautiful girl and having a nice new contract and a regular show on TV in an early evening slot at the weekend.
Jean Genie Is all that in the script?
A Lad Some of it is.
Audience (suddenly joining in) Oh no it isn’t!
A Lad Oh yes it is!
Audience (you) Oh no it isn’t!
A Lad and Jean Genie Oh yes it is!
Jean Genie You shall have qualified, tax deductable bits of your wish after the interval, my lad, when you rub the magic torch. But for now they are just misty dreams.
A Lad (As the curtain slowly descends)
Misty dreams they are not real
Misty dreams they’re how you feel
A slug of gin and an’ a jellied eel
Misty dreams
Misty dreams
Misty dreams.
The curtain descends, this is the interval. Usually at this point we have either a kind of vivid orange ice lolly, found only in theatres, made entirely of E numbers, or we go and crush at the bar for a minute amount of alcohol served in a plastic glass, tasting vaguely of weak petrol and garnished with a slice of fluorescent nearly lemon. The after effects can be simulated at your screen by sucking the pinch of salt you brought with you. At this point the rain-soaked British audience, which is dressed in woolly winter clothing, is beginning to warm up a bit. Fetch the wet sheep and stand it between the fan heater and the computer until it begins to steam gently. To enhance the authentic experience you may wish to struggle to remove an item of heavy clothing yourself, fold it into a small uncomfortable lump and sit on it for the rest of the performance. If the colleague who is providing the coughing behind you hasn’t wandered off, they may wish to mutter, very quietly, in a reserved and thoroughly British way about not being able to see properly, for the rest of the show while craning round you to peer at the screen.
Scene three – the palace kitchen.
We are in the palace kitchen for the traditional slapstick scene. 2 1/2 stooges: two tall clowns and a short one, are making the royal breakfast.
1st Clown (shouting-) Has anyone done the toast? (He scurries round the stage with a giant loaf of bread.)
2nd Clown Toast! Toast! I haven’t even got the tea made. (He picks up a huge teapot) This is full of yesterday’s dregs, I’ll chuck it through the window. (He rushes towards the audience, taking the lid off the teapot and makes to throw the contents of the pot into the audience. Pick up your coffee cup with the dregs in it and threaten yourself with it.)
1st Clown (peering into the audience-) Not through the window, down the sink. (-put the cup down again.)
2nd Clown (Rushing to the back of the stage-) The sink is full of dirty dishes.
1st Clown Well throw them through the window then! (The clowns pick up dishes and pots from the back of the stage and run at the audience with them and start hurling the contents over the footlights to gasps that turn into laughter as the contents are revealed to be confetti. Pick up the paper cup of holes out of the punch machine and empty them over yourself. Isn’t this fun?)
3rd very short Clown (Running around bashing a massive frying pan with a rolling pin-) I say! I say! I say!
2nd Clown What do you say? What do you say? What do you say?
3rd very short Clown I have custard in one ear and jelly in the other, what’s wrong with me?
1st Clown (Grabbing the short clown by the frying pan and whirling her round-) I don’t know, what’s wrong with you?
3rd very short Clown (Getting to the front again,) I’m a trifle deaf!
2nd Clown (Walking past, squeaking the bulb of a klaxon which hoots and squirts out flour-) I say! I say! I say!
3rd very short Clown (Running round him at speed- ) What do you say? What do you say?
2nd Clown (Stopping suddenly so the 3rd clown runs into him) What’s for tea if you chase a rabbit round and round the garden?
3rd very short Clown I don’t know, what is for tea if you chase a rabbit round the garden?
2nd Clown A little hot cross bun!
1st Clown Never mind the tea, we’re supposed to be doing the breakfast. Put the toast on! (He drags a giant toaster from the back to centre stage. Clown 2 fetches a huge slice of bread. Clown 1 stands on 2’s shoulders and they heave the bread into the toaster. Clown 3 climbs up both of them, jumps on to the slider switch on the side of the toaster and jumps off as it reaches the ground. The audience applaud.)
The audience (That’s you) clap.
(Incidentally, have you noticed anything about the 3rd clown? No? Look again. Look at her in silhouette with the light behind her. No? Watch her take her hat off………….it’s me! Yes, it’s difficult to recognise me with the hat and the make-up isn’t it? Like Hitchcock I like to make a guest appearance. Well it’s one less actor to pay, isn’t it? Now you know it’s me, it’s obvious isn’t it?)
(Suddenly an buzzer sounds and a light flashes on and off)
All 3 Clowns The king! The king, he’s ready for his toast!
3rd Clown (me, really) And we’ll be toast if he doesn’t get it! (the clowns push the toaster off the stage)
(Enter A Lad and Jean Genie from the other side.)
A Lad When I wished to be in a palace, I didn’t mean the kitchen.
Jean Genie It’s like showbiz, A Lad, you have to start at the bottom and work up.
A Lad But you don’t get balls in the kitchen! (A canvas unrolls from the rafters with a football painted on it.)
Jean Genie Oh yes you do!
A Lad I want a dancing ball! (The picture of the football wiggles about a bit.) A dancing ball with girls! (A picture of two little girls unrolls beside the ball) It’s not like that, it’s like my misty dreams.
Audience Oh no it isn’t!
A Lad Oh yes it is!
Audience Oh no it isn’t.
A Lad If I don’t get my wish immediately I shall sing.
Misty dreams they are not real
Misty dreams they’re
Jean Genie All right! All right! I give in! Stop it at once!
(He waves and the pictures roll upwards and disappear, the backdrop also rolls up to reveal the palace ball room. Glittery arches descend, also swags of flowers with flashing lights and a team of extras from the ballet in the theatre up the road, dressed in ball gowns, twirl and pirouette on to the stage. A golden coach drives on pulled by a pantomime horse (two people in a costume) leading a real and very cute donkey. The audience cries out in delight.
You Oh.
(Well that wasn’t very enthusiastic.)
You (picking the sheep up and showing it the screen) Oh, look.
(That’s better, this is what it needs, proper audience participation. I meant to have the bit where the clowns throw sweets into the front stalls but they ran off so quickly there was no time. So eat the sweets you brought –or the biscuit or sandwich- now anyway. Share it with the sheep if you’re feeling generous or you could always feed it the plant as there are no more scenes in the forest, though goodness knows what we’ll do for tomorrow’s matinee if it finishes it.)
A Lad (striding up to the coach- ) And here is my princess!
(Suddenly the coach door is flung open to reveal Wicked Uncle with a large blunderbuss in one hand and a struggling princess in the other. The phlegmatic British audience gasps)
You Oh I say, this is hardly cricket.
Wicked Uncle Nobody move! I have the princess and unless everybody gives me all their money at once she’s toast! (The clowns push the toaster on to the back of the stage, then run away. – hello, it’s still me under the hat.)
A Lad Do something Jean Genie, quickly, or I will never dance with the princess and get my career back!
Jean Genie No A Lad, I cannot. This is your time to shine. (Suddenly and fairly horribly he breaks into song in a raucous baritone-)
This is your time to shine
This is your time to be brave and save her.
This is your time to shine……..
A Lad (pushing in front of Jean Genie and very unwilling to be upstaged) Misty dreams they are not real
Misty dreams they’re what you feel
Misty dreams here is my heel
(She leaps in the air, drop kicks Wicked Uncle in the nadgers, he folds up dropping the princess and the gun, she catches the princess and whirls her round to centre stage in a quick foxtrot, level of difficulty 2, swirls her into a passadoble, twirls her like a cape, level of difficulty 5, hurls her into the air, dances twice round the donkey, catches her as she falls, twirls her round like a baton, slings her round her shoulders, leaps up the coach and finishes striking a pose on the top of the golden coach with the princess heaped up decoratively at her feet. The dancers on the stage all applaud while tap dancing, the clowns reappear dressed as comedy policemen (hello, it’s me again, now I’m the one under the peaked cap) handcuff Wicked Uncle and haul him off. The pantomime horse does a soft shoe shuffle, the donkey wees on the stage and the judges, dressed as fairies are lowered, flapping their wings, to hand out contracts to all and sundry and gather with the whole ensemble for the final song which is written on a giant crib sheet that unfurls from the rafters. One of the clowns (the one in the cap –hello) takes a pointer and guides the audience through the song words. I can’t quite reach into your screen – would you be so good as to pick up the pen and point to the words yourself as we sing them? Thank you.)
Misty dreams they are not real
Misty dreams are how you feel
Misty dreams are quite surreal
Appearing on a screen.
Misty blogs are just a laugh
Don’t read them when you’re in the bath
Or wandering along a path
Or driving a machine.
Misty blogs to you online
Let’s all have a real good time
Let’s sing, laugh, read and feel quite fine
It’s all there on your screen,
Misty dreams, misty dreams, misty dreams.
(A Lad pushes to the front centre stage waving a golden contract)
A Lad I will be in the Saturday teatime slot for the next twenty six weeks on all channels judging two hour talent shows for kiddies and viewer’s performing pets!
Audience (You and the sheep) Oh no you won’t! Baaaaa!
A Lad Oh yes I will. It’s a happy ending!
You Oh no it isn’t.
A Lad Oh yes it is!
(-with the entire cast, dancers, clowns (hello!) fairies, Genie, donkey and horse reprise-)
Misty dreams they are not real
Misty dreams are how you feel
Misty dreams misty dreams misty dreams.
Misty dreams misty dreams misty dreams.
(Wild applause – thank you. ) The curtain is lowered, the house lights come up, the performance is over. All that remains is to put the sheep down baaaaa retrieve your squashed coat and struggle into it. Have you got everything? Off you go. The cleaners will be in tomorrow morning to pick up the punch machine holes, half eaten sandwiches and plastic cups. If you find your self out in the cold waiting in a light drizzle for the bus home that would be very authentic too. Here’s the bus now. There’s a window seat. Lean your head on the window and hum
Hmm hmmm hmm hmm are not real
Hmm hmmm hmm hmm hmm hmm feel
Hmm hmm hmm, hmm hmm hmm, hm hmm hmm.
3 Responses to The first ever JaneLaverick.com pantomime.