Drag Queen Dames: Good, Bad or Non-Binary?

A bit of a thorny-mind-twister this week. I've followed a train of thought that started off with the question : "should drag queens play dame?" took a detour through websites of acting agencies and nearly derailed itself on the philosophical musings of 18th Century Germans.  

Still, preferable to the transpennine express. 

ToOt ToOt! All aboard!

Non-Binary Performers and the agents that represent them... 

What an AI thinks a gender non-binary casting website would look like.
by Anne AI  

This week we’ve been dealing with an agency (not pictured above) which divides its performers according to gender. Nothing unusual in that of course. A lot of agencies list their clients as male and female: it makes their list easier to search. 

 However...

... this particularly agency divides its performers as follows:

1. Male 

or

2. Female and non-binary 

Which is an unusual -

    -    and thought provoking  -

           - choice.

🙏 Huge apols to all the sticky-beaks out there, I’m not going to name the agency here. Not because I think they’re doing anything wrong, or have anything to hide, but merely because I’m going to delve into some controversial topics and anyway… the ideas are the important things, not the individuals. 

Let's go back and read that categorisation again:

1. Male, 

or

2. Female and non-binary

...

...

...

...

elipsis

I don't know about you, but to me at least it’s a grouping that immediately stands-out. 

       ? Why are the non-binary performers grouped with the female performers? 

              ?  What is it about the "Female and non-binary" performers that makes a cohesive group? 

? Does that mean all these performers are biologically female? 

                               ? Does any of this matter?

                            ? What's going on with the crazy formatting of this paragraph ?

"❓"

 

Question mark indeed!  I don’t know about you, but if I was biologically female and told my agent: “My subjective experience of gender means that I don’t identify as a female, despite my biological sex,” I’d be a bit teed off if they then lumped me in with the females anyway. 

🚩 I MUST FLAG at this point, that I am not non-binary. I feel very binary. I feel very male. In fact, I feel so binary that I struggle to imagine what it means to say “I feel non-binary.” That being said, I’ve met countless people who struggle to imagine what I mean when I say “I feel gay,” (in fact, truth be told, I’ve felt several!) so I am definitely not about to gainsay somebody else’s lived experience based on my lack of imagination. 🚩

However, as peeving as I imagine it would be to be non-binary and lumped in with the females because of my biological sex, I cannot imagine a world in which a performer who was biologically male comes out to their agent as non-binary only for their agent to relist their profile alongside all the women. Of course I could if they were trans… but non-binary? 

My best guess is, the agent has grouped their clients together by casting. If a producer is looking for a woman, they’re looking for someone who can be read as a woman by an audience. 

A Producer's Perspective

From the producer’s POV, does it really matter whether that person feels like a woman, or feels non-binary? After all, the audience won’t know… unless you put it in the programme. (Should we be mentioning it in the programme?  Is that something that people care about now?)

The same logic presumably belies Spotlight’s decision to list “ethnic appearance” rather than “ethnicity.” I mean… if you look like you could be Greek, why not put yourself forward for the part of “Young Greek Man”? 

Ancient Greek Drag Queens were often children.
NO JOKE:  click here for article

The cynics amongst you may well note that “it’s all very well picking Greek as an example… you couldn't very well make the same argument for a dark-skin-tone white actor claiming to be black or mixed race.”

OH, COULDN'T I?!

No, I couldn't. You’re right. A better arguer than me would try to point out that the performative portrayal of Greek nationals isn’t contextualised by the same historical racism as black-face or yellow-face, but honestly, I think if the Equity Balkan committee came out up-in-arms, the industry would quickly capitulate. 

Nevertheless, in a world where the difference between your Aladdin being cancelled or sold-out is whether your publicity shots feature someone perceptibly Chinese or not, producers may find some considerable value in “appearances” rather than “identities.” I can bet you a yuan to a dollar that there have been more than a few marginal casting decisions that came down to which white actor looked most like they could be part Asian. After all, nobody wants to shout “racist” at someone only to find out it’s actually you that assumed someone’s race! 

Artwork for Aladdin 2022.
Can you tell whether the actor on the left actually is Chinese
or merely has a naturally Chinesey face?

But what about all those parts where producers are looking specifically for a non-binary actor? There are an increasing number of them. So much so, that Spotlight issues the following exemplar phrasing to anyone staging an all trans/non-binary cast: 

 ‘We are looking for a cast of actors who present as trans/non-binary. We want to create a piece that is ‘gender euphoric’ and actively utilises the knowledge and lived experience of trans people within the work. If you are comfortable to bring your life experience to the production, whatever trans identity you have, then we’d love to hear from you.’ 

Well, in that case, you’ll hardly be wanting to trawl through an agency website to try and locate their non-binary needle in a haystack of female performers. 

 So...

What’s the alternative? 

You could always plump for:

1. Male 

2. Female 

3. Non-Binary 

                                                                            But IMHO that feels intellectually clunky...

Non-Binary identities reject the received Male/Female sword of Damacles that hangs over the head of society. Surely NB should sit outside the binary, not alongside it!  By which logic, I suggest: 

1. Binary 

2. Non-Binary 

- with the first option forwarding you to a secondary page listing all the non-NB performers as Male/Female accordingly. 

💻If you’re worried your NB performers may miss out on any other opportunities, you could add in a codicil to the male and female pages along the lines of: “We also represent non-binary performers. 

💻You may like to consider one of our following clients…” and hyperlink to their spotlight pins. 

💻If you really wanted, you could post something reciprocal highlighting all of your male and female clients at the bottom of your Non-Binary page, but that may be over-egging the pudding. 

💻Or whatever the non-binary equivalent phrase is… 

...over-gameting? 

💁 

Whilst this is conceptually neater, I’m sure that the practically-minded amongst you are already thinking: “what, so now I’m having to click twice every time… I can’t be arsed with that!” Which I think may well be the line-of-thinking the agency tried to head off when they lumped their NBs and their Fs in together in the first place. 

GOSH – it’s all got so terribly complicated, hasn’t it? And so quickly! “We didn’t have any such thing as non-binary when we were kids and now all of a sudden, barely 50 years later, things have all changed!” Too true. 

It's tough, all this change, isn't it?  Here's a picture of my new puppy to cheer us all up again.

Name: Toby Cousins-Richards
Gender: Dog

So what has all this got to do with the panto? That is, apart from the possible increase of left-clicking-finger-RSI amongst panto producers? 

Well, quite a lot as it happens. 

Binary Gender and Pantomime

Other than Shakespearian pastoral comedy, Great British pantomime is perhaps THE genre of theatre in which the interrogation of binary gender is most integrally linked to the conventions commonly associated with the artform. 

A gender-bending all-female (and non-binary) cast performance of 
The Taming of the Shrew at The Hope Mill, Manchester
OMG... this was AWESOME!  Congrats to all the humans involved!

BIG WHOOP!  Saying “gender-bending is a defining feature of British pantomime” is hardly going to be a surprise to anyone reading this blog. 

From the thigh-high-leather-boot thigh slapping principal boys (whose numbers appear to be thinning each year) to the big-boobied crin-spinning pantomime dames, every good pantomime has someone pretending to have a variety of genitals of which they are, in actuality, intercrurally bereft. 

🐓🐱🏀🍆👄🍑👀🌂✅🔔🍐🍼🐍

Old Mother Hubbard went to the costume cupboard 

    to get herself something to wear 

Old costume mistress, looked down with interest 

    Look! Wee Willie Winkie's down there!

                                                                      - traditional Lancashire nursery rhyme 

                                                                        thanks to The W.W. Winkie Estate © no rights reserved

As important as F2M gender swapped casting is to the pantomime, allow me, if you would, to restrict my focus in this blogpost exclusively to the role of the Dame. Ta.

💋

Pictured below is the comment thread under my last blog post in which two posters are arguing whether the dame should be played by a drag queen or not.   It was indeed this debate which kicked me off onto this series of fascinating tangents. 

Are you squinting as hard as I am to read this?

⚠ CAUTION: In case my PhD supervisor is reading, I've had to phrase the following thought so precisely, the meaning of it has been rendered practically unintelligible.  

Any successful parsing of a performative act in which a male performer depicts any female character, must necessarily be predicated upon the acknowledgement that binary gender is the ubiquitous, culturally-dominant paradigm through which semiotics are likely to be contextualised in society at large, and by inference the plurality of audience members. 

 

Paradigm  Pah-Rad-I'm (noun.) Defn. A way of looking at the world.   

For example: "In order to sound cleverer than he was, the academic used the word 'paradigm' when he could have just written 'a way of looking at the world.'" 

Now, just in case he doesn't read this, let me say it again, only sloppily and in ambiguous language.

Men playing women on stage is funny because most people understand gender to be male or female. 

BINARY GENDER PARADIGM = THINKING THAT GENDER IS JUST MALE/FEMALE

In a world in which male and female didn't exist, the dame would be simply a human portraying another human… 

... which is fine!

I’m sure a hilarious human would have great success when performing a well-scripted role of this type. 

However, be honest, that’s not what you think of when you think of dame, is it?

The joke is 

it’s a man in a dress. 

At least, lots of the jokes work because it’s a man in a dress; and by corollary, most of the jokes we enjoy would fall flat were it not so to be. 

 e.g. 1 Picking a boyfriend 

This bit is funny if you’re a man in a dress picking a heterosexual man who you then make feel uncomfortable by flirting with him (particularly if it’s in front of his wife). 

 e.g. 2 Funny innuendoes.  

You know, the ones that the grannies all laugh at, that go straight over an 8 year old’s head… “I’ve got something other women haven’t got” and the like. 

These conventions work because we live in a world in which the shared paradigm through which the majority of people conceptualise gender is a male/female binary. 

If a pantomime dame was played by your-dad-in-a-dress then the funniest person to watch the reactions of would definitely be your mum. 

Of course, you could strip out the gags that rely on this binary, and still have a dame that keeps the crowds roaring… as any one of the great (and most notably Scottish) female dames can prove. 

Scottish legend and veteran panto dame, Elaine C Smith,
delighting a school audience with 10 minutes of improvised tableaux vivantes

BUT if you are stuck on the your-dad-in-a-dress archetype, then ignoring the culturally-ubiquitous gender-binary paradigm just to appear woke would mean cutting out so many crowd-pleasing classics, you might as well audition for King and let someone else have the funnies. 

Notice my careful description of dame as your-dad-in-a-dress… not, as the more well trod description has it: dame as a-man-in-a-dress. 

A man-in-a-dress describes all kinds of people: pantomime dames, drag queens, Grayson Perry, catholic priests or anyone out on a stag night north of the M62. 

Boris Johnson as Dame Hard Brexit, battling on through the ghost gag
after a slow puncture left both of his blow-up boobs deflated.
 

However, not all of these men are your-dad-in-a-dress. (NB I can’t actually prove that, but if I know one thing about your dad’s agent, she’d never agree to him doing that number of costume changes!) 

Out of these groups, only drag queens see significant cross-over with the part of the pantomime dame.  A cross-over which (as is evidenced by the FB debate shown above) is NOT UNIVERSALLY supported! 

If you love reading somewhat conceptually garbled articles that try to claim that panto dame is in fact drag, try this one from the Grauniad.

In fairness to the Grain, the similarities between drag and dame are easy to see.   I bet you could easily name a dozen: 

They’re both men in dresses (1), often FABULOUS dresses (2), extraordinary wigs (3) have great big fake boobs (4) and a ton of make-up (5). Both characters are performed on stage (6), both interact with the audience (7), crack jokes (8), innuendos (9) and improvise (10) as well as regurgitating classic one-liners (11). And many of the best ones have a secret hipflask waiting in the wings (12). 

Given the overlap, you may well be wondering: what stops a drag queen from being your-dad-in-a-dress? Answer – your mum! And that answer is not quite as frivolous as it may first appear to be.

I know, I know. STOP BITING MY HEAD OFF!

                         YES: There are straight men who do drag. 

        and some women,

                     and some bisexual men,

                            and also non-binary humans, and… 

Before you list off the rest of the LGBTQA2SNB+ alphabet at me, you have to concede, in the broadest of brushstrokes, that the drag queen is an AOGMO (archetype of gay male origin). 

The conventions of drag queen performance are borne of, and therefore contextualised by a history of gay men performing to queer audiences, in queer run venues, in spite of and in juxtaposition to the pervasive heteronormativite norms of the broader culture at large. 

The performance of drag is a political act that challenges the heteronormative binary of “normal vs queer” – or as the gays amongst us grew up feeling: “them vs us”. 

 The power of the drag queen comes from the shared identity of the LGBT+ community. When we transplant the drag queen into the heteronormative family-centred performative context of pantomime, we alienate the archetype from the power it usually wields. 

The drag queen dame finds herself in the exact same position as the dame that's your-dad-in-a-dress.  Denuded of any external context, both types of performer must now make their hay from the shared male/female binary paradigm of the family audience… the very same heteronormative binary drag once evolved to reject. 

Performing a drag-queen-as-dame demands that the members of the audience reframe the act of the male usurpation of femininity as a mask, no longer in terms of lampoon or bouffon, but as a declarative affirmation of the performer's queer identity.   

OK, society has moved on a lot, but the truth of the matter is most people who have kids to take to a panto are straight. (Trust me, my husband and I have been trying to have kids for years. Still nothing. I’ve had my legs up against the wall and everything!) 

 Can a straight audience enjoy drag? Of course!  But when they do, something fundamentally different is happening than when the same audience watches a dame who is a-dad-in-a-dress. They watch. They spectate. They do not commune. 

Not in the same way the ragtag crew of a gay bar commune with the drag queen on Friday nights. Nor in the same way their granny and grampa communed with the cock-in-a-frock playing Twanky back in the 70s. 

 How could they? 

How can a straight family understand all of the history, community, connotations that come with the drag queen?  

They can laugh.  But they can’t understand. 

You may counterpose: "drag has evolved far beyond its queer meaning."  You may point to Drag Race and mega star celebrity drag queens like Lily Savage. 

And yes – it is true. 

Just as our society has grown to accept and include queer people, queer performance and archetypes have both become much more accepted and represented in the public sphere. And all of this is to be much applauded. 

Thanks for all the laughs, Paul.  We'll always love you x 

The same hard work and bravery of queer activists that gifted acceptance and visibility to the LGBT community also gave straight society drag. When drag queens do panto they’re helping to edify that connection. They’re flying the flag for queer culture and for anyone who feels marginalised or excluded. WHAT MARVELLOUS WORK! Our drag queen dames should be supported and celebrated for all this and more. 

It is utterly commendable. 

But it’s different to what’s going on when you’re watching your-dad-in-a-dress. When a drag queen tells a bloke in the front row “you’re gorgeous,” the line is contextualised within a gay paradigm. When your-dad-in-a-dress says the same line, it’s contextualised within a binary-gender paradigm. 

And if all of that doesn’t scream Hegel to you… you must have slept through your BA epistemology tutorials!  Shame on you!

Equity representative promoting rural, touring and regional pantomimes

If you can bear to stay with me for just four more teensy-tiny, incredibly dense paragraph that reframe the debate using Hegelian Dialectics, then I promise I’ll make it all worth your while.

If you can’t be arsed, you can skip this bit and then just pretend you read it should we later bump into each other at an award ceremony. 

If you're skipping, skip now!

In layman’s terms, and assuredly making a hash of it all, what Hegel argued was: for any idea (or thesis), it can only be understood in the context of it’s own negation (antithesis). True understanding means bringing these two thoughts together to reveal a greater truth (synthesis). Hegel was talking about logical arguments, but the same pattern continues when we think about identities. This is because identities are necessarily defined by juxtaposition to a defined out-group. 

To understand what it means to perform drag, we must understand what it means to be gay. Gay identity can only be understood in the context of a heteronormative societal mores, with the synthsesis of these counterposing identities informing a queer paradigm. Thus, when a dame is performed as a drag queen, the audience’s reading of the character is contextualised within a paradigm of queerness. 

However, when a dame is performed as your-dad-in-a-dress, the audiences are prompted to understand the character through the lens of the performer's maleness in juxtaposition to the femaleness of the character.  It is the synthesis of these counterposing male/female identities that informs our understanding of binary gender.  

NB Non-binary identities iterate this abstraction. To understand what it means to be non-binary, we must first understand what it means for gender to be paradigmatically binary, and then synthesise these counterposing identities to understand gender as a continuum. An interesting thought exercise for the academic is to ponder how this process might further be iterated, and in so doing to second-guess what type of novel identity may well be synthesised by the generation that follows. 

Despite attending 4 weeks of puppy socialisation
Toby still doesn't have even a basic grasp of Hegelian Dialectics

 IF YOU SKIPPED, PICK BACK UP HERE! 

So where do I fall on this debate? 

Well, I like watching drag, because...

I also love watching a man perform dame like my-dad-in-a-dress. I loved my dad... and my mum... with their weird heteronormative marriage, that they both conceptualised through their own little male/female gender binary paradigm. It is a paradigm that we all intuitively understand, even those who may no longer live within in it. 

Would I laugh if my dad put balloons up his jumper, wore lipstick and said in a high, girly voice “ooh, me knickers are right up me bumcheeks!”

❓ 

You bet I would! I’d laugh like a hyena. And so would you. And so would your mum. And so would your agent's mum. And so would your agents female/non-binary client’s mum. 

And there’s nothing wrong with acknowledging that it’s funny because, for the majority of our society at large, the gender binary that makes it funny actually exists. 

Even if we reject it ourselves. 

 ;TLDR 

1. Traditional panto requires gender binaries 

2. It is OK to acknowledge that for large swathes of society, the traditional gender binary is the dominant extant paradigm (even if we reject it ourselves) 

3. There are important differences between how a drag queen is read compared to traditional dad-in-a-dress dames.  

4. My preference is to script, cast and direct the dame like my-dad-in-a-dress, and to get my drag fix when I go to the gay bar.  Other preferences are available.

5. Every dame performer, regardless of style, deserves our support and celebration.

Did I mention I've got a new puppy?

Should Panto Dames Buy their own Costumes?

"There is nothing like a Dame." (centre)
by Rogers (left) and Hammerstein (right)

.

Who plays the Dame?  

.

How do they play it?  

.

What function does the Dame fulfil?  

.

What is the relationship of the Dame with the audience?

.

 

There are so many questions...

Of all the topics I’m thinking about as part of my research, Dame-ing* is the one that performers are most keen to speak to me about.

 

People love the Dame.  People love watching the Dame.  People love playing the Dame.  It’s surely no coincidence that of the many performer-impressarios running panto companies, the most common role that the producer plays is Dame.

 

For a start: it’s tricky.  Playing a stock character that carries so much cultural weight and is imbued with so many lifetimes of heritage is a serious undertaking.  With so much at stake (especially when you’re stumping up the capital) there is a certain conservative value in the old adage: “if you want something doing right, do it yourself.”

 

However, for some Dame-producers, there’s something more at play.  The Dame is a character that inspires people to perform.  People want to play Dame.  Some professional performers got into acting in order to play Dame.  Some professional performers only play Dame.  If you are dead-set on performing Dame, it makes good sense to set up your own pantomime!  Then, not only do you get to guarantee yourself the part you want, you get to make all the fun decisions about costume tracks, wig designs, song choices… it’s Dame heaven.

 

N.B. Even in the myriad non-professional companies, Dame is a role that carries a certain prestige and is often performed by the writer, the director, or some other community member with similar cachet.  In other companies, Dame is seen as a prize to be shared around… a reward for the performatively-minded for contributing to the community.

 

My biggest brother James playing Dame
in the greatly auspicious 2023 production of
"Harry Barber and the Four Tea Thieves"
by the Gentlemen of Moore Rugby Club.

However... when it comes to professional panto...

Dames are expensive  

 

For example. our 2023 production of Aladdin at the Met in Bury had 7 actors with a track of 25 costumes (not including the juvenile chorus). Eight of these were Dame costumes.

 

Let’s digest that for a moment.  A full third of the costumes used in the show are for one character.  (The ratio is even more skewed if you disregard the walk-down set…)

 

But numbers only tell half the story.

 

Compared to the “average” costume, Dame’s costumes are often much bigger, more elaborate and consequently more expensive.  

 

Sometimes the costume is bigger than the performer!

 

Now, I have some level of insider information on prices that I don’t intend to divulge on this blog.  It’s not that the industry has anything to hide, but it’s commercially sensitive information and some makers depend on this custom.  (Besides, people who need to know how expensive these things can get, already know…believe me!). However, I don’t think I’m going to blow anybody’s mind too much by saying that kitting someone out in 8 large, spectacular costumes with matching wigs, footwear and other accoutrements can leave a dent in even the girthiest wallet.

 

A canny investor may seek to make savings by specialising in playing one specific character.  It can be a good idea – if you get a reputation as a good Twankey, Ugly or Mother Goose (John Inman), you can circulate to a different show each year and command a good fee.  Best of all, as you’ll be performing in front of new audiences, you’ll only need to buy 9 costumes and you can wear them every year! 

 

And buying the kit is only the start of the bills.  Once you’ve got a collection of gigantic frocks and precious hard set wigs, you need somewhere to store them.  Of course, if you have a 20 bedroom mansion with several spare dressing rooms, then this needn’t cause too much of a problem, but given that you’re an actor and not a tech-mogul, you probably don’t… in which case, you better get used to seeing the name “BIG YELLOW STORAGE” on your direct debits every month.

Storage can be a real headache!

As a producer, you can ameliorate some of these costs by staging your show in a different venue next season – after all, you already have the costumes, so now you can budget the cost across two shows rather than one.  If you have a big company with lots of contracts, you might start budgeting a dozen shows or more, across the life of the costume.

 

If you haven’t got a lot of contracts, you could always try staging more pantos in the venues you have.  This is one of the reasons behind the upsurge in Easter, Summer and even Halloween pantos of late.

 

Of course, once you’ve had your hilarious big dame costume on in all the shows you can stage, your audiences have seen it – so it’s value to you plummets.   Now you have two options: you can sell it on, or find some space in your workshop and try to hire it out (HINT – why not join one of the dozens of people who have signed up to pursuedbybear.co.uk.  You can have your own shop without the cost of developing a website!).  Of all the panto costumes, dame costumes come up the most frequently on Ebay as people try to recoup some of their investment.  Here is a second hand costume starting at £300.

 

However, as a performer, your options are more limited.  You have to store the costumes until the next time you get cast in that show. (Although you could always sign up to Pursued By Bear and hire it to someone else)

 

Which is how we get to the world we now live in, in which a significant number of dedicated performers who play dame have large collections of costumes and wigs locked up in storage, waiting for Christmas.  A stranded asset.  And what do you do with assets?  Capitalise on them.

The Eureka Moment!

 

At some point in distant history, an enterprising performer, in order to get one up on the competition,  sidled up to a producer at the end of their auditions, and said “Of course, I can provide my own costumes!”

 

And that producer thought ‘Kerching!’

 

All those costs, all that upkeep, all those ongoing expenses – it was now on somebody elses shoulders.

 

All things being equal, why wouldn’t you employ someone who brings their own costumes?

 

Well, a good idea is a good idea.  Which is why it was at this very moment, that something which nobody foresaw (nor no-doubt wanted) began.  The great dame-costume-arms-race.

 

If you are losing out on roles to people who provide their own costumes, you might start thinking “I’d better keep up.”  Soon there are so many performers providing their own costumes that some producers only cast performers who costume themselves, foregoing the financial and logistical burden altogether.

 

Dames who stick with the same company now need to costume themselves for different panto titles.  It’s not good enough to have a few good workers, you need something Chinese for Aladdin, something bucolic for Jack, something French for Beauty and the Beast – or maybe even two of everything if you’re sometimes an Ugly Sister.

 

Every Dick needs a Sarah!

You can do your best to economise.  The more generic the costume is in style and material, the more titles you can wear it for.  But the pressure to have “showstoppers” is enormous, and even basic workers aren’t cheap.  Several self-costuming dames I have spoken to have bemoaned the very high costs they bear – often above and beyond what they can recoup through “rental” clauses in their contracts (in which a producer offers to pay a flat fee in addition to the performance fee).

 

Some performers love dame-ing so much they delight in buying new frocks and commissioning wigs… in which case it’s less of a problem.  But some performers, in order to keep up, have got themselves into a quag from which it is not always easy to escape.

 

And it’s not just performers that suffer.

 

When you’re writing a script, you craft a world into which you place your characters.  Imagine you have a hilarious idea for a plot line in which Mother Goose is going to a Casino dressed as a roulette table.  You can picture the headlines now “Inspired roulette-table-dress steals the show at the Huddersfield working men’s club” The Guardian, “***** Dame takes hilarious costume out for a spin” Panto magazine, “All bets are off with this years jaw-dropping dame costumes at Felixstowe Independent Methodist Hall” British Theatre Guide.  Now all you have to do is find a dame with a roulette dress.

 

Good luck!

 

When the costumes come with performer, you have to pick from their collection - if their collection doesn't have a roulette dress... you get what you get.  So what happens?  Forget your ideas.  Write something generic so what the costume doesn’t matter and bodge together some references to it during rehearsals.  Good performers can make anything work… they’ll probably make something funny! (If it’s their costume, they may already arrive with some lines).  But no matter how well it turns out on the night, you have sacrificed authorial control.

 

SO, in answer to the question “should dames buy their own costumes?”  It depends.  If you love buying dresses and wigs and curating a costume collection – OF COURSE!  Life is short, make yourself happy.  But you shouldn’t have to.

 

The question itself is a bum steer. The real focus should be on the producer… 

 

“Should you be producing shows if they rely on performers to costume themselves.”  To this question, my answer is decidedly, emphatically “no.”

 

 

 

Is it Snow White if it Doesn't Have Dwarfs?

It’s official – you can’t be a dwarf bullfighter in Spain! 

I’m sorry to have to break the news to you like this, but if you are a little person with dreams of being a Toreador in Madrid, you’re too late! Your luck is well and truly out. 

What bullfighters see running towards them...

As reported last week in the Guardian here, enjoying a little person fighting a bull is discrimination according to Spain’s Royal Board on Disabilities (NB in the UK, dwarfism is not considered a disability under the 2010 Disabilities Act unless it has a ‘substantial’ and ‘long-term’ negative effect on your ability to do normal daily activities). 

The intention is surely well meaning. Little people frequently report incidents in which they feel threatened, othered or lampooned simply because of their physical differences.

In a comment about the unacceptability of the word ‘midget’ in reference to little people, Warwick Davis (Patron, Little People UK) reminds us that: 

“many little people have suffered bullying and ridicule in their lives which causes them to lose confidence and they can become isolated.” 

                                                                                                                               www.littlepeopleuk.org

This is exactly the kind of ridicule that the Spanish government is seeking to stamp out with the moratorium on little people in bullfights. Surely nobody could disagree with that? Well, some people do: the bullfighters who just lost their jobs. 

The Guardian article goes to quote dwarf bullfighter, Daniel Calderón:

“They take it for granted that people are being denigrated or laughed at, and it’s the opposite: the respect they have for us is impressive.” 

Of course it’s impressive. I couldn’t do it. Could you? 

The athleticism, prowess and performance skills of these bullfighters draws crowds. Crowds that pay money. Money that goes to the bullfighters.

One may well ponder: if the performers are happy performing, and the audience happy to watch them their performance, who it is exactly that's getting offended by the thought of bullfighters with dwarfism.

Nobody actually watching it. No-one who's actually there.

Logically, via a process of elimination, we're left with the awkward conclusion: the only people getting offended are people who aren't there to see it. Peculiar grounds for a ban!

If the drifting of social mores makes their performances distasteful to modern audiences, then let the market close the show. If the performers feel like they are disrespected or otherised then let them quit. Given the existence of multiple other avenues by which those against the practice may be satisfied, one might perceive legislation as an unnecessarily blunt tool. 

Similar (presumably well intentioned) qualms are already having impacts on pantomime. 

 

The panto that must not be named

Panto Poster, Belfast
© Albert Bridge, Licensed under Creative Commons

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs remains a popular panto title (you can see productions this year in theatres from Bournemouth to Manchester), but mark my words, the title is firmly within the sights of the censors.  

Move over Mystic Meg, here is my prediction: if we don’t do something, once Aladdin falls, Snow White will be next. 

In some circles, even the title proves contentious. Those wary of causing offence with the word ‘dwarf’ may seek to circumvent accusations of discrimination by bowdlerising the title (e.g. Snow White and the Magnificent Seven, Hastings 2021). This is at their peril – appropriate use of the word dwarf is contested space. While there are some voices in the little person community who seek to distance themselves from the word, others are proud of being dwarf performers, and feel that the omission of the word is akin to erasing their identity. 

Producers wishing to sidestep this ethical minefield commonly omit the word from the title (e.g. Kilmarnock and Kings Lynn 2022), but under pressure from some lobbies may withdraw the title altogether. 

I, for one, can personally guarantee that as long as I produce the Saddleworth and Bury pantomimes, I will never produce Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs!!! Of course not! I could never afford it! 

Not only does having eight titular characters increase the cast size beyond reason for a 250+ venue, performers who are little people are in high demand at Christmas, commanding excellent fees in return for their skills. 

And why not? As every performer filling out their Spotlight profile will tell you: sell what you’ve got to sell. If you can juggle fire, put it in your bio – heck, even if you think you could learn to juggle fire between the audition and rehearsals, it’s probably worth jotting down. If you are a little person, and there’s a part for a little person, you may well think “I'll get my agent onto that!” and who could blame anyone for cashing in. 

The Cast of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
at the Stevenage Christmas Lights Switch-on 2010
photo by Peter O'Connor aka anemoneprojectors

Again, we must acknowledge the multiplicity of opinions held by people with dwarfism, a truth which Eugene Grant expertly illustrates in this article in which he explains his reasons for eschewing panto castings to another actor with dwarfism from the other side of the debate. 

However, as with all of these debates, surely the argument for personal liberty conquers all. If you want the part, take it. If you don’t, don’t. 

Of course, I can understand that as an artist, the idea of playing the same comedic role each year might become somewhat tedious, and there is certainly room for the industry to respond to this.

Doing Something Better

No matter where you stand on the role of actors with dwarfism in pantomime, we can surely all agree that the industry has room for improvement. But what practical steps can producers take to improve their practice? Here are five suggestions:

1.     Audition actors on their skills, not their size  

 

I have heard tell of producers selecting performers purely on the basis of their dwarfism, as opposed to their skill as a performer. Not only is this dehumanising, it massively sells the production short. How can you possibly utilise your performers to their full potential if you don’t know what they can do? If Andy Ford didn’t know that Ben Goffe had impeccable timing and incredible rapport with the audience, then we would never have had the infamous sword scene from Dick Whittington (and the world would be a poorer place). 

2.     Ring-fence opportunities  

If you are producing Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, employ little people, not kids wearing foam Disney heads. Not only are the kids inevitably rubbish, (sorry, kids-in-foam-heads... it’s true!), but doing so takes away one of the reliable casting opportunities away from performers who may otherwise face significant challenges in landing conventional roles.  

3.     Cast broadly

Be open minded with your breakdowns and casting. Seek to provide opportunities for talented performers with dwarfism in roles other than 'dwarf'. Talented performers deserve challenging and complex roles. Let’s see some little people as heroes, princesses, dames, and villains! When you release your castings, use explicitly inclusive language to signal the suitability of roles for the broadest range of applicants.  

4.     Listen to your actors

Include performers in the discussion about how they are portrayed on stage. Remember: there are a multiplicity of opinions amongst actors from the little people community. Ask your performers: what do they think? How can you respond? 

5.     Consider access 

There are over 400 types of dwarfism and performers with dwarfism may have varying access requirements to participate optimally in rehearsals and performance. Communication is key. Remember: it is always incumbent upon the producer to be proactive in understanding the access requirements of everyone they employ, whether that is on stage or off. 

 

Case study: My Ethical Quandary 

Rumpelstiltskin © The Big Tiny
Market Drayton/Saddleworth 2023

I have now completed written edit 7 of Rumpelstiltskin for 2023 production.  

My plot explores the role of the outcast. I don’t want to give too much away, but the otherisation of the eponymous Rumpelstiltskin, and the resolution of his character arc is a critical component of the narrative structure. The role is complex, three dimensional and delicious and is a gift to the right actor. 

Now, I’m pleased to say we’ve always had a policy of casting the best performers we can find (that’s for any role, irrespective of height). We take great pains to use inclusive language in our breakdowns to encourage diversity of applications. However, thinking specifically about Rumpelstiltskin, I have considered the implications of casting a character actor with dwarfism. Such a casting would certainly highlight the themes of otherisation, but would it be too on the nose? 

In her amazingly thought-provoking book ‘Disfigured’ Amanda Leduc analyses portrayals of disability in fairy tales. She points out that not only is disability/difference often associated with villainy. Villains are often defined, even named, by their disability (e.g. Scar in the Lion King, Captain Hook in Peter Pan). It’s an unfortunate trope that once someone points it out to you, you start to see everywhere.

A Stonkingly Good Read
available here

The brilliance of her writing lies in her use of anecdote and personal experience to illustrate how harmful stereotypes can end up otherising the very people they should be edifying: 

“There is the story of Irené Colthurst, who like me has cerebral palsy and as a young girl watched Cinderella put her foot into a glass slipper.  Irené got her shoes from Nordstrom, the only store that allowed you to mix and match shoes of the same style but different sizes.  ‘Some of the most unpleasant memories I have,’ she tells me, 'are of sitting in the shoe department… the shoes rubbed so much that they could and often did rub sores in my feet.  Sometimes to the point of bleeding. 

But Cinderella, Irené notes, never had any trouble like this.  ‘Nobody else fits the dainty-foot shoe, and this is how easily she slips back into it? Voila, happily ever after?’  

                                                                                                                    Disfigured; Leduc, A. p 89-90 

It provides food for thought. I certainly don’t want to perpetuate harmful stereotypes, or reinforce feelings of otherness in my cast, crew or audience.  

 

Philosophically, I’m still drawn to the argument for personal liberty.  Like the bullfighters in Spain, I firmly believe we should respect the choices of the performers. If a great character actor with dwarfism comes to the auditions, I’d have no qualms at all in offering them Rumpelstiltskin.  

 

Of course, I have the advantage of having written the script, so I’m pretty confident that even if the part were played by a little person, our production would elegantly finesse concerns of otherisation.  However short of attaching a script to the casting breakdown, I have no way of effectively communicating this confidence on Spotlight. And whilst, I’m sure there are a range of opinions on casting a little person as the villain, I am very aware of the optics around a “Panto Seeks Little Person for Role of Rumpelstiltskin” headline. 

With such a thorny issue - what should I do? What I always do when I think about casting: chat everything through with the best agent in town. (No kidding, producers. HUGE plug - Yvonne Ianson at I&K Talent is a dream to work with: straight up and down, very responsive, and has a raft of fantastic actors on her books. You're welcome.) Unfortunately, Yvonne doesn’t currently represent any little-person character actors with excellent singing voices, and yearnings to play a panto villain in rural Yorkshire... though she’s managed to proffer some promising leads!

In the end, I erred on the side of caution. When we published our castings this morning, none of the breakdowns explicitly encouraged applications from character actors with dwarfism. 

(But if you do know of any, send them the link to this blog.)