Has Panto Lost the Plot?

The Ineffable Wisdom of Nigel Ellacott

Two weeks ago I attended the first pantomime symposium hosted by UKPA and Staffordshire University. The day was split into three panels, and during the second panel, entitled: In the Spotlight - Performers’ Perspectives, panto favourite Nigel Ellacott (who last year was awarded the UKPA lifetime achievement award) was invited to reflect on what he felt had changed during his long and lauded career. His reflections prompted a lot of back and forth amongst the panel about feisty princesses and principal boys, and amongst all the constructive debate, he made one more reflection: “I’m sure panto used to have more of a plot.” 

NB the quote marks are merely aesthetic. I’m almost certainly paraphrasing, but I hope you’ll forgive me… the official transcript is yet to be published, and I’m working from handwritten notes. Amid the throng of lively debate, it was a blink and you’ll miss it moment. But it was a comment that resonated so strongly with my own experience that I heard it as loudly as if he were striking a gong. 

To my mind, this singular observation, encapsulates panto’s biggest problem. Moreso than any of the more topical issues that generate headlines and animate practitioners. This is the gigantic elephant in the room: panto has lost the plot. 

If it is to stand any chance of redemption, we must first understand two things: how did this happen and why? 

Damning Evidence 

If there’s one thing panto-people are good at, it’s singing their industry’s praises. You can barely skulk round a theatre in December without hearing someone Trot (sic) off a verse of “Panto is a great British Christmas tradition. It pays for the rest of the theatre’s annual programme” followed by a few rousing choruses of “Hallelujah! Panto is a child’s first experience of theatre.” 

A traditional, first experience of live theatre

 Some of the most evangelical proselytisers may end up as unwitting victims of their own boosterism. I have often been told that pantomime is the most popular form of theatre in Britain. (For the record: it’s not. It’s fifth. Comedies, musicals and kids shows all draw bigger crowds, and top-of-the-list Drama attracts more than twice as many audience members annually.) 

Every year, somewhere between 11-13% of the UK population watch at least one panto. Across the country, that adds up to millions, but the corollary of this is the fact that the vast, vast majority of people who live in the UK don’t watch a panto and have no plans to start any time soon. 

I talk to lots of people about panto, including lots of people outside the rarefied circles of pantomime-devotees. From members of the general population, of course I hear a range of responses, but the response I hear most frequently is “I don’t like panto.” 

You can try to explain how your shows are different until you go blue in the face but, most times, remonstrations fall on deaf ears. Panto-refuseniks are often as dogged in their recalcitrance as fanatics are with their praise. Most punters don’t need to get their fingers burnt too many times before they shy away from the fire. 

It’s hard not to sympathise. There are a lot terrible pantos out there, I’ve watched them. Chances are, if you watch enough pantos, you too will start to question whether you really like them or not. 

So what’s going wrong and how has it happened? 

The first thing to realise is that the label “panto” is attributed fairly liberally to a fairly wide range of show styles. You’d have a very different audience experience watching the Rock and Roll panto in Mold than you would watching the circus panto at the Blackpool Tower. 

Variety acts, celebrity names, production values, actor-musicians, comedy, plot, audience participation - opinions on what makes a good panto good are as diverse as the genre itself. There’s no accounting for taste. 

But once again, it bears repeating, only: 11-13% of people are satisfied enough with the current offer to come back year on year. These people aren’t the reason panto isn’t more popular, they’re the reason it isn’t already dead. More than half of the UK theatre-going population won’t go and see a pantomime. There are millions of people buying tickets for plays who love musical theatre, who do not like pantomime.  If we are to make panto better, we must understand why and improve our offer. 

The Difference between Pantos and Plays 

Ask the man on the street what a pantomime is, he’ll probably describe it as some form of play. Indeed, from the perspective of an audience member, going to their local theatre to watch a play feels very similar to watching the pantomime. You use the same website to buy your ticket, you sit in the same auditorium, buy the same ice-cream, watch actors perform on the very same stage. Yet, the similarity of consumer experience belies crucial fundamental differences between the two. 

Besides pantomime and musical theatre, very few “straight plays” command enough of an audience to make their production commercially viable. The continued success of the UK theatre industry is predicated on the vast central subsidy, primarily through Arts Council England (ACE). ACE funds theatres, artists, and artistic projects to the tune of tens of millions of pounds a year.  These funds pay the wages of full time and freelance staff, without whom, most theatres would not be able to function. This is evidenced by the recent reallocation of ACE funding that precipitated the failure of the Oldham Coliseum.

The recently defunct Oldham Coliseum
Photo by Dancewear Central

 New plays are made when producing theatres commission playwrights. Playwrights typically work as freelance artists, building a reputation based on the quality of their portfolio of work and reviews from their previous shows. It is common for professional playwrights to have some form of professional training. This might be from an HE establishment (e.g. RADA), a professional course (e.g. Royal Court Young Writer’s Scheme) or through work placement at a partner organisation. But even highly skilled playwrights with excellent portfolios may struggle to work continuously. Competition for commissions is high. 

Once commissioned to write a play, the playwright will communicate with and be informed by a representative of the theatre (usually a director or dramaturg). These interactions might be fairly light touch (e.g bouncing ideas back and forth over email); or more formal and collaborative (table reads, feedback, rewrites etc). 

Every day, up and down the country, playwrights and theatres are engaging in processes with the end goal of realising a written script as live entertainment. 

However, this is only sometimes true when it comes to pantomimes. 

Pantomimes are commercial theatre. In many cases, individuals who put on pantomimes do so at their own expense in the hope of making a profit. In the pursuit of profit, producers may seek to economise, and one way of doing this is to cut out the playwright and save yourself paying for performance rights. 

How can you make a panto if you cut out the playwright? 

There are several ways: you can write it yourself, or you can mush together bits of scripts you already have, you can get the actors to devise something, or any combination of these. It’s not uncommon for day 1 of a panto rehearsal to include the director going through what’s turned up from the hire company and working out what they want to do with it. Nor is it uncommon for the SM to spend the two weeks of rehearsal furiously making props in the wings for “bits” that the actors have thought up during rehearsal. 

Can you gather a company of actors and devise a great show? Of course! (Kneehigh, anyone?!) Do there exist theatre producers who can also write a great show? History is littered with examples (William Something-spear comes to mind). Is that what is happening in most pantomimes? Maybe 11-13% of them? 

 

10 COMMON PANTO CRIMES AGAINST GOOD WRITING 

• The ugly sisters choose a boyfriend and never reference them again.
• Characters turn up in new locations for no discernible reason.
• Cut and paste last year’s stock characters, just change the name.
• Songs with irrelevant lyrics, sung for no reason.
• Divorcing the comic trio entirely from the plot.
• Get kids to shout out if anyone goes near the present. Present is never opened and is removed in the interval set change.
• Writing in "funny jokes", instead of funny scenes.
• Start off by putting in 12 days of Christmas, ghost gag, Two Ronnies, Chocolate bars in a shopping cart, Slosh scene, kiss on the wall sketch, fall over pull down the curtain bit, variety act. Squeeze the plot into 10 one minute scene changes infront of the show cloth.
• Villains are evil for no reason. Then they magically become good.
• Completely omit any sense of jeopardy. No action has any purpose. Nobody faces any consequences. 

At the very minimum can we all make a pact to eradicate these 10 panto crimes? 

 

Doing Something Better 

So, you’re going to make better panto, what should you do? 

If you’re a venue: hire a playwright. 

If you’re writing a panto, invest in your skills. If you’re new to writing, get some professional training. Join a writer’s group. Read some books about dramaturgy. I don’t think anybody should write a play without first reading David Ball’s extraordinarily pithy dramaturgical how-to guide, Backwards and Forwards: A technical manual for Reading Plays. Also, I’d like to make a big shout out to Paul Sirret for his excellent book The Playwright’s Manifesto published last year. 

I work on panto scripts the same as I do on “serious plays”. There are as many ways to approach writing as there are playwrights, but here are the four steps I take on my way to getting words on paper.

 1. World Building. 

Where are we? How does the world work? What are the prevailing forces that govern the way that the story unfolds? 

e.g. Our Sleeping Beauty (2019) takes place in a palace where royalty are surrounded by wealth. It’s natural to interrogate how this affects the people that live there. Are they callous and jaded? Pompous and out of touch? Profligate? Avaricious? Spoiled? The flip side of money being no object: everything is affordable, but nothing is valued. 

Unimaginable wealth and the people it breeds
Sleeping Beauty, Market Drayton 2019. The Big Tiny (photo by Howard Barlow)

 

2. Develop the characters. 

Who does the world affect most? Or in a peculiar way? What makes them tick? How do they relate to each other? What challenges could they face? How will their actions affect their circumstance and vise versa? 

e.g. In our recent Aladdin (2022) the action is centred around the Twankey’s squalid favela. The city is constrained by vast inpenetrable walls, fencing the characters in, and keeping the real world out. I developed characters that I could use to explore this world and interrogate the different ways people are shaped by their geography. Jasmine wants to escape from her family, Aladdin wishes to go back home. Widow Twankey refuses to leave her shanty, the genie has a round the world plane ticket but is bound to the lamp. Wishee-Washee collects holiday brochures he can’t read and fantasises about going on holiday while jet setting Abanazar traverses the world by plane, by boat, by camel and doesn’t think anything of it. 

Characters stories are shaped by their circumstances
Aladdin, Saddleworth 2022. The Big Tiny (Photo by Howard Barlow)

 

3. Structure the plot. 

Give every character an arc: a problem to deal with, a test they must face, an opportunity to grow and develop. Know where all the pivotal moments will come, and put them in an order that leads the audience on an emotional journey. 

e.g. In Robin Hood (2021) I wrote an arc for Will Scarlett in which he fixes a talent show to win a box of chocolates. In Act 1, we see Will practise, putting up posters, preparing his costume, as well as jealously guarding the chocolates from the peckish merry men. All this means that by the time we get to the contest in Act 2, the audience are fully invested in Will’s success, sharing his elation as he reads out first place, and his devastation when the sheriff steals the chocolates. 

Will Scarlett's very clear narrative arc
Robin Hood, Huddersfield 2021. The Big Tiny

 

4. (ONLY NOW!) – Write in the words.  

Let the humour and pathos come out of the characters. 3-Dimensional characters speak for themselves. Make sure you give each individual their own sound. Pay attention to rhythms, cadence, pause and word choice. E.g. Stock characters always sound the same. Well developed characters have a voice that is rooted firmly in their world. Notice how different these three fairies sound:

Cupid:               "Gosh, what an absolutely gorgeous bunch of people you are.   You are!  Have a look around.  Absolutely fabulous.  Smashing.  Look at your outfit!  Gorgeous.  And yours.  Loving your hair.  Yeah, it’s fab.  And all the gents, you’re all gorgeous as well.  I mean, phwaor, totally stunning."

From Rumpelstiltskin 2023

 

Bree-Anne:      Alright Huddersfield, ‘ow do?
Fairy Bree-Anne welcomes you
Come one and all souls good and honest
Take refuge here in Sherwood Forest

How you doing?  You alright?

‘ere, this forest’s night life’s banging
Since the merry men’s been ‘anging
Round about with Robin Hood,
It’s done Nottin’ham t’world o’ good.                    

 From Robin Hood 2021

 

Mary:   Huzzah!  Hip, hip hooray!  Yippee! 
It’s not a shooting star, it’s me! 
Fairy Mary is my name 
I heard a wish and whoosh, I came 

Snatching up my magic wand 
I’ve left my home in clouds beyond 
Flitting through existences 
In my fairy wings from Marks and Spencer’s                    

 From Jack and the Beanstalk 2019

A New Era

The proof of the pudding is in the eating.  The first year of our Saddleworth panto, we attracted just under 10% of the local population.  We struggled to sell the school shows, and sales were thin on the ground until after we opened... a case of potential audience members keeping their powder dry.

Every year we have come back with a story driven, well-written play.  Yes, it's a panto, it has a dame speech, a boyfriend, a ghost gag (not every year), lazzi, preposterous costumes, songs... but it also has character arcs, a superobjective, jeopardy, pathos and truth. 

Far from putting off the traditional panto audience, we've brought them with us.  Year on year we have grown our audience until last year we attracted 20% of the local population.  That's all the panto lovers, plus an extra seven percent of previous "refuseniks."  And the better news... sales are already up for Rumpelstiltskin 2023.

To Albert Einstein is oft attributed the quote "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result." We can grow panto and reach out to a wider audience, but only if we start doing something different.

It's time to start writing a new future for our industry.  The future's bright.  The future's panto.