RESEARCH FINDING: These two ingredients are KEY to making better panto

It seems like forever ago that I started my PhD research exploring the question: "How does contemporary British Pantomime respond to Evolving Ideas of Identity?"  For those of you that have continued reading my blog, I'm sure it seems like even longer!

In truth, it's only been three years (nearly), and the end is very firmly in sight. In that time I have:

• interviewed dozens of panto big wigs, 
• held town hall meetings with my audiences, 
• gathered stakeholder feedback, 
• recorded dozens of hours of audio diaries, 
• innovated the form, and 
• analysed my companies data to death.  
• And read about a bajillion books about pantomime history.  
• And another bajillion about identity politics.  
• And at least two bajillion about academic methodology (don't even...) 
• Oh, and best of all - I've produced 7 pantomimes, which I used as a test bed to put my research and ideas into practice.  

I am knackered.  I look forward to publishing my research next year, telling you all what I've discovered, along with my recommendations for best practice.  BUT IF YOU DON'T WANT TO WAIT THAT LONG... Right here, on this very blog I can reveal for the first time ever  

My Top Two Innovative Contributions to the Form!!!!

* Application of the Hyperlocal Lens *

* The Repositioning of Meaning-Value with a Gifting Paradigm *

"What are you on about?"  

"Why those two things?"

"How did you get to that decision?"

So many questions! I know - it's exciting, isn't it?  Let me explain... from the very beginning. It's a very good place to start. (Apparently - Julie A.)

The Big Bang (T = -6 months)

I got the idea to start my research after a very effervescent conversation about race and Aladdin.  The conversers were a diverse bunch with loads of different opinions, and I found myself defending the "it's traditional" corner.  Before anyone gets any silly ideas: I wasn't in the "slap on some yellow face paint and pigtails" corner, just the: as long as everyone is respectful, it's surely OK to set it in China camp.  

The Emperor of China, Stockport Plaza (2012).
Yellow masking tape over eyes, Wickes (£3.50 per roll)
NB Going by the poster, the upcoming 2025 production features the same costume track! -
hopefully the make-up pad has run out of yellow by now...

I love a good argument!  I'm not even very averse to a bad one, from time to time.  However, in this case I found myself frustrated - not because I was losing. Because I was shut out.  I was white, middle-class, privileged - I had no first hand experience of "feeling yellow," or racial discrimination - and therefore, my view was deemed worthless and therefore disregarded. I'm eager to concede that there is huge and irreplaceable value to be derived from those with lived experience, both in the perspective that it may offer and also in the profundity of subjective truth that it can unlock - however, doing so would not help me.  Even if one could change race, to do so just to win an argument would surely be the worst type of colonialism. 

With all other options off the table, it is to my great chagrin that my antagonistic-ape-brain conjured up for me a secondary, more obscure route by which I might enhance my credibility: "All you need to do" it whispered, "is become the world's expert in that field, and then, come back in 4 years time and retort "AHA! My opinion does matter!"

Stupid, petty, peevish ape-brain... why are you always inventing the most ridiculous strategies just to try and defend your overinflated ego?!

Six months later I was enrolled as a PhD candidate.

Aladdin (T = 12 months)

That Christmas we produced Aladdin at the Met in Bury.   It was the second time we'd staged the show - this time in a much bigger town with vastly different demographics.  Our production practices were informed by what I was learning - we tried different approaches to casting, rewrote the script to reflect different heritages of the actors, even remade a few costumes. However, I didn't lose sight of the main aim: vindication.

The production did end up with a more ethnically diverse cast, but it also had:

• Traditional Peking location
• Glittery Chinese set and cloths
• Chinese policemen
• An Empress in traditional style costume and black wig
• Hanfu inspired costumes
• A traditional Chinese liondancer costume
• Travel to Egypt
• Traditional laundry scene
• Traditional character names
• A gong sound effect
• The Old Bazaar in Cairo
• Sand dance choreography

It also had zero audience complaints, record box office takings, and excellent reviews across the board - including a review in the British Theatre Guide that acknowledged the production "sticks to its traditional setting... while avoiding any uncomfortable racial stereotyping" and "is made by people who clearly love the form."

"There," I thought, "that proves it - it can be done."  I should have felt vindicated, but actually, I felt like... I was answering the wrong question.

The tropes of Aladdin were solidified over 100 years ago, in Victorian Britain - a Britain that was very, very different to the country we live in today.  Not just demographically, but culturally, and also internationally.  The reasons why the Victorians included all these conventions in the panto have either dissipated or withered away.

"OK," I thought.  "So, you can defend Victorian Aladdin. But so what?  Why should we bother?"

If the Victorians used pantomime to build their identity, why shouldn't we?  If pantomime could help build an empire, what else could it do?  It seemed to me, these were much better questions!

★★★★★ 

"Pure family Christmas entertainment and everything you want for a fun filled two and a half hours (including interval), take the family and enjoy"

ABOUT MANCHESTER

 

Rumpelstiltskin (T = 12-24 months)

My first attempt to explore these questions was Rumpelstiltskin.  

No. Days to rehearse the play: 8
No. Days for Will to make the cartouche hang straight: 1.5

It was a familiar title with a mostly-forgotten story, which was great for me.  I bastardised the script and turned it into a play about otherisation and in-/out-grouping dynamics.  Even though the production felt super traditional, it challenged fundamental tenets of the form including what it means to be a villain and the Boalian positioning of the audience as spect-actors.  I loved turning everything upside down, encouraging the children to sell their souls to Rumpelstiltskin in act 1 and hearing the whole audience chanting spells for his revival by the end.  Dramaturgically it had such depth, we had some audience members weeping, yet we managed to deliver it with a lightness of touch that made it relatable for all ages.  It was in the words of the Manchester Evening News a "family crowdpleaser that punches well above its weight."

Nancy Penvose (left) was so dedicated to the role of Rumpelstiltskin
she purposefully lost 4" of height during rehearsal to make him appear more vulnerable

It was a great first foray into how panto could address issues of identity.  But it did so passively.  It was time to try a more active approach.

The Victorians didn't use panto to talk about identity, the used it to create identity.  "I'm going to have a go at that," I thought.  Then spent a few months wondering what identity I wanted to create.

A great fact I'd picked up somewhere from some book that I'm currently too lazy to look back up is: by 1900, 60% of all London pantomimes were staged at least partially in another country. Aladdin was incredibly popular, but even titles like Cinderella had been spruced up (with one production being set in Ethiopia) and seemingly every time we had a war (which was a lot of times, btw) some production of Jack and the Beanstalk would personify our opponent as the Giant.  That's all well and good if you're trying to inculcate an imperial identity within an ethically homogenous, not internationally travelling audience.  But I don't have one of those - so I'd have to do some more thinking.

The Hyperlocal Lens

During my research, I've been keeping a reading log.  I'm now up to about 300 books, which is about right for a PhD bibliography.  But unlike other PhD bibliographies, mine reads like marched through a library with a blunderbuss full library cards, randomly shooting at every disciplinary section and reading the first five books on any shelf I hit.  

Partly this is because when I started I was so ill-informed that I had to get up to base level on pretty much everything all at once.  I've read books on Victorian pantomime, the British Empire, Crip Theory, Feminist theory, Orientalism, Identity Theory, Identity Politics, Psychology, Post-Colonialism... you get the idea.

It was about this time, as I was getting immersed in Media Studies, that I came across the idea of hyperlocality: a way of thinking about geographically bounded shared cultural experience.  Or in other words, things made for people who live near each other.  It was a really interesting lens. Over the last 100 years, demographic shift had changed the make up of panto audiences so much that the rationale underpinning the conventions of the genre was increasingly unsound. Unlike Victorian audiences, modern pantogoers are not a sea of white, Christian, or even British faces - so what are they?  Well, unless you're producing the Palladium panto... they are all local.

This is a local pantomime for local people!

Ironically, Victorian panto producers were already onto this idea, long before Media Studies even existed.  The go-to academic on the topic of regional pantomime production 1860-1900 is Jill Sullivan who first showed in her PhD thesis (2005) "the available empirical evidence has served to foreground the pantomime text as an expression of local concerns and political interests that were particular to each town and displayed an acute awareness of issues of regional identity and status."  

Tip-off: Sullivan's book on the topic:  "The Politics of the Pantomime: Regional Identity in the Theatre 1860–1900" is a fantastic read for anyone interested in the topic (as it was particularly for me, as it has a plethora of specific examples of pantomimes staged in Manchester.)

These hyperlocal conventions seem to get slowly shed by commercial producers during the twentieth century, as mass media shrinks first the country and then the world.  Popular comedy routines become embedded, divorced from their original meaning and then stale.  The pursuit of economies of scale lead to the consolidation of regional contracts into large portfolios of a small number of national players.  The final death knell for hyper localism may well have been heard with the casting of international celebrities, as documented by the UKPA's Simon Sladen.

In the process, the form lost two things of immense value: urgent relevance and connection to their audiences.  I want them back.  And I think we can get them.

A note of caution: Victorian Pantomime production and contemporary practice face vastly different contemporary mores and demographies.  Victorian pantomimes reinforced local identity as a foil against London-centred homogenisation of extent regional cultures. Modern pantomime must respond to modern audiences who increasingly originate from diverse locations and may include transitory and immigrant populations with few or no long standing ties to the local area and/or theatre tradition.  When we use pantomime to reinforce local identity, we do so not to defend, but to create.  For the modern producer, hyperlocality is an action, not a reaction - and as such, demands a greater level of sophistication, forethought and precision in its application.

Mother Goose (T = 24 months)

The next iteration of my practice was a hyperlocal production of Mother Goose which we made from scratch specifically for Saddleworth.  I'm not the first person to reimagine this outdated story in the present moment - in our production, Mother Goose didn't wish for beauty or youth, but 100000 TikTok followers instead.  

Despite his best efforts, hyperlocal puppy Toby was largely ineffective at installing the set

Not only did we make it much more relevant for right now, at the same time we made great efforts to make it relevant right here. We made it hyperlocal.

I love Saddleworth, and so does my audience.  So it seemed like the natural place to set the story.  We went round the town taking photos of interesting and recognisable views - views which we then reimagined in our cloth designs.  Saddleworth is a rural community, so I dumped the demon and brought in a Fox... from Fox Entertainment in Media City, Manchester (the valley and the identity of those who live there is distinct from, and contrasted to their giant metropolis next door).  I wrote in dialect, and filmed VT sections around the town with local people and familiar faces, which we then projected as part of the show.  

Imaginary villain Phineas Fox played by real-life fox Tessa Vale 

Outside the auditorium I called town hall meetings and took polls on what the audience thought was important.  We visited local events throughout the year, in costume.  We engaged with local drama groups, schools and charities, running workshops and competitions.

It was in the production of this show that I felt, as a practitioner, the reward I had hoped would have come from our Chinese-Aladdin.  Aladdin had been my show.  Mother Goose was Saddleworth's show.  And the audience knew it!

Mother Goose led me to articulate another vital pillar of my theoretical framework: 

Meaning-Value and the Gifting Paradigm

When I had started, I had viewed meaning as a thing to be owned, as exemplified in thoughts such as: "You don't own the story Aladdin, just because you've got Chinese heritage," or "I can use my production to create my own meaning."

I have now come to understand that greater value of meaning is realised not through the act of claiming ownership over it, but through the act of giving ownership away.

Pantomime is a commercial form.  Producers make shows to sell.  The most successful and canny producers have a very firm understanding of their target audience: demography, price points, access requirements, celebrity draws. Their production processes are well-oiled machines, turning out palatable productions that equate to bums on seats.  One might say that these producers make these shows for their audience. This is a linguistic trick.  Actually, they make their shows for profit.  The pantomime production is a product, owned by the company, and rented out in 2-hour viewing slots to their target demographics. 

If a pantomime production were truly made for an audience, ownership must be exchanged.  Production processes are still acts of creation, but not of a product, but of a gift.   The distinction is hugely important.

A product is something you can buy off the shelf, generic, available to anyone, anywhere.  Commercial producers love making products - products are very profitable. They can be made to a blueprint by on a schedule, on a line, by workers who only do one thing. Products can be made from interchangeable parts so they are easy to replicated, standardised and predicted.  Products are replaceable.  When somebody buys a product, they buy one instance; the company retains the blueprints and the processes to turn out another instance, and another and so on ad infinity.

When you make a gift for someone, you do so with that person at the forefront of your mind - from the start to the end of the process/. You think about what they already have, and imagine what they might need or want or be delighted by. To make a gift is to make something bespoke, one-off, especially for them, especially by you.  When you give a gift, you relinquish control. It still remains your creation - just as one might recognise a painting as "a Picasso," without implying Picasso still owns it - it just stops being your thing.  

For all the reasons commercial producers love making products, they really don't like making gifts.  Even making a gift for someone you know takes thought, creativity and imagination - and the process is ten times harder if it's someone you only see once a year.  Worst of all, even if you make the perfect gift, once you've given it away, you have to start over again.  Different gifts suit different people - a fact much attestested to by, and at the annoyance of, every Christmas Eve shopper who wishes they could by 12 of one thing and call it quits.

5 signs your show is a product, not a gift.

1. The references are interchangeable.  
• "It could be worse, you could be in <insert name of local town>".
2. The jokes are replicated.  
• Same jokes as last year?  
• Same jokes as the production company other shows?
3. The roles are archetypes not characters.  
• The actors play DAME and COMIC, not SARAH and BILLY.
4. The costumes and set are a hodgepodge of what the producer/hire company/actor has in stock 
• "We'll work out something funny to say when he comes on during rehearsal."
• 
  
5. It contains scenes, routines or lines that somebody else wrote for some other play or film, for some other actors in some other context (and possibly some other generation.) 

• "We'll do that bit - you know that whatshisface does - does anyone remember how it goes?"

The Pied Piper of Hamelin (T= 36 months)

This year's production in Bury will be testbed for my theories and the culmination of my research.  Everything about the production is hyperlocal, from the ground up.  It's been a heck of a task to prep everything, but with 6 weeks until rehearsals, I've got a feeling we're going to give over something quite extraordinary to the people of Bury this Christmas.

There's no space left in this blog to explain how we've applied the lens of hyperlocalism, and the framework of meaning-gifting to all the different parts of our process.  If you want that kind of detail you'll have to wait for the 100,000 word thesis to come out sometimes next summer.  Not only am I recording my journey, I'm establishing recommendations for best practice - so we call all make panto better together.

Of course, if you don't want to wait that long, you can buy a ticket and come and see for yourself!

5 Signs to watch out for, that show The Pied Piper was made as a gift, not a product

(and good ideas to nab and reinvent in your own practice):

 

1.    Themes are relevant to this audience at this time. 

    Everyone in Bury gets a wish every time Bury FC are promoted

    The villain is seeking to develop the land beneath the market 

2.   Local references, characters and plot points hard baked into the script, not added on!

PEEWEE: Where are all the black puddings? Have you checked upper Ramsbottom?

BEA:          I did. I found something.  But it definitely wasn't black pudding.

          ORANGE PEEL: Quiet you two, or I'll invent the police and have you all arrested!

3.    Comedy and meaning emanate from the shared experience of the local audience.

Singing.

Market day in the borough of bury

half hour wait for a table at spoons

half a mile tailback into bury

Grind to a halt on

The b-road from Bolton

And you’ll be here soon!  

4.    Physical elements are designed or sourced specifically to facilitate the moments made by the script-in-performance.

 eg, The front cloth is a map of the town

the portals are Peel Tower and Bury Market sign

the mayor is costumed as an Orange (referencing famous Buryite Robert Peel)

5.    The community are engaged with during the process, not just at the moment of transaction.

Audition slots set aside for local residents.  Local casting.

Opportunities made available for local communities and creatives

Local businesses sponsoring access provision

Follow up surveys and opportunities for feedback

Defending Aladdin: The Argument for Diversity and Inclusion

“Multiculturalism makes no demands of the incomer to integrate.  It has failed because it allowed people to come to our society and live parallel lives in it … And, in extreme cases, they could pursue lives aimed at undermining the stability and threatening the security of society.”

Stella Braverman (victim of autocorrect), 2023

EXCLUSIVE pantoblog make-your-own Stella Braverman bookmark template

It's the quote that everyone in politics wants to talk about.  No sooner had The Bravermeister spouted her talking points, tory MPs have put in formal complaints to the chief whip, the former Home Secretary and the Prime Minister have distanced himself from her comments and even the Bishop of Leicester is having a go at her!

Deary me, Stella... you know you're in political hot water when the Church of England AND the Conservative Party are briefing against you!

Of course, electorally the whole debacle is political genius.  The fear that multiculturalism is undermining indigenous British culture is far from a fringe view (This now out of date article cites the finding that 40% of UK residents surveyed agree with this position).  Having senior cabinet members playing both sides of the issue allows the party to hoover up votes from both camps.

Whatever your position, at least we can all agree that there IS such a thing as indigenous British culture, and panto is definitely part of it.

Last week I gave a talk at Staffs Uni about patterns of ethnic diversity relating to submission for panto auditions.  Honest, guv... here's the picture to prove it:

Voted best looking presenter 2023, Staffs Uni (Pantomime Casting category)

I got the train down, and got chatting to the guy sat opposite me.  His name was Mohammed, he was 40 years old and his mum and dad had immigrated to the UK from Pakistan after the partition of India and settled in the Wirral (why would anyone settle in the Wirral?  Not even Mohammed knew that!)  We had a lot in common - apart from both having lived within 3 miles of Birkenhead, we'd both moved to London and then moved back up North.  Presumably because everyone in the North is friendly, down-to-earth and incredibly attractive, where-as Londoners are rich and in a hurry.

"How long were you down South?" I asked.

"Eight years," answered Mohammed.

"Blimey, I can't believe it took you that long to realise it's better up North," I jibed.

"Well, it is now," he replied.

NOW?!  I was gobsmacked.  Surely this was sacrilege.  The North has always been better than the South!  What did he mean?

Luckily he explained... 

"When I was a kid, we were the only non-white family around.  I felt like I didn't fit in.  I preferred it in London because I had friends and family there - people who looked like me.  However, the Wirral has changed a lot since I first moved away.  Now, there are loads of people from all over the place.  It feels more multicultural.  I prefer it."

Britain is changing

Unless you've just arrived on the island, chances are you remember a Britain that is less diverse than it is today, and in a few years time, you will be living in a Britain that is even more ethnically diverse.

Census data for England and Wales shows that, from 2001 to 2021 the percentage of people in the white British ethnic group went down from 87.5% to 74.4%

Of interest to anyone thinking of staging Aladdin in China, in the same period, the proportion of the population that self identify their ethnicity as Chinese went up from 0.4% of the population in 2001 to 0.7% of the population in 2021 (445,646 souls in total).

It's a bit trickier to backtrack further than this, as the categorisation of ethnicity by the census changes.  This breakdown by Manchester University shows that since 1991 the proportion of the UK population that is not white has doubled from roughly 7% to 14% today, but this is the first year that the census has a well-defined question about ethnicity.

Immigration is not a new phenomenon.  This website shows some great photos of UK residents with a wide range of ethnicities from as far back as the turn of the 20th century.  But, these cases are notable because of their rarity.  The trend is clear: the slice of the UK population that is white and UK-born is getting slimmer.

So what does that mean for panto?  What does it mean for Aladdin?

Well, it depends on who you ask.

Some people love a traditional Aladdin.

- Someone with excellent taste in panto

Other people think that Aladdin should be retired completely.

Feeling Yellow

As Britain diversifies, so too will theatre audiences.  If panto is to survive into the next century, it will need to connect with next century's audience... an audience that will likely look very different to today's.

One paper I read that I found really enlightening was from an Asian-American writer describing how reading through a Broadway programme put her on edge:

“I felt anxious as I waited for the actors to enter the stage so that I could locate identity in their faces, a reductive yet routine way of deducing race. Anxiety turned into dismay, as I registered a white actor embodying one of the Flying Lings. Instead of donning bronzer and eye prostheses, the more blatant markers of yellowface, he matched the other performers in wearing black changshan with yellow-gold trim. Relying upon the costumes to do the labor of signifying Asianness, the production gave the performers greater ease to put on and take off racialized markers.” 

Donatella Galella, Feeling Yellow: Responding to Contemporary Yellowface in Musical Performance  

Of course, that's America.  Thank goodness things are different over here.  

Aren't they?

Hilarious: Even though this image was generated by AI, I'm sure that I recognise the actors

 

One prominent voice in UK theatre protesting against Yellowface is Daniel York Loh.  He describes 

"A friend recently attended Aladdin with his niece at a regional theatre and was shocked  and upset by the sight of Caucasian cast members in 'yellow face' - full-on Chinese costumes and make-up.  Like me, my friend is of Chinese descent.  Another Asian friend of mine walked out of another production of Aladdin in a different regional theatre because he felt the content was racist.  He was even targeted from the stage as he was leaving the theatre - he and his young son were the only non-white people in the audience."

Daniel York Loh, 2018

REALLY?  I mean, maybe in the 80s... when people did the Chinese language test and the funny voice and the yellow make-up.   But TWO nearly identical occasions of people feeling like they had to walk out?  As someone who doesn't have people walk out of their shows - it seems to stretch credulity.  Seriously, how bad are other people's pantos?

I had to investigate...

I read a dozen commercially available scripts for Aladdin.  They're not necessarily the most performed, or ones from the biggest theatres, but all the scripts I reviewed have been/are being performed somewhere in the UK and they are all being hired out for money.  

And err...

Ahem...

I hate to disappoint you all, but I gotta agree with DYL.

If the scripts that I've read are anything to go by, I would walk out of most Aladdin's.  It's not that the scripts are racist per se.  It's more that they are crap.

I'm not going to embarrass anyone by name.  But if you have written a script of Aladdin and want to try and figure out if I've read it or not, here is a handy list:

Generic Asian image 

5 Ways to tell if your script of Aladdin is Crap (IMHO)*

• It is simultaneously set in China, Tibet, Arabia and India as though these are all one country,
• Wishee Washee is described as a <insert Chinese food> short of a take-away, several times, just with different foods,
• Instead of jokes that are related to the plot, characters just name things that are Chinese,
• The characters names are types of food, or references to testicles, despite the fact that it has nothing to do with their characters.  They may even have different names in different scenes!
• Somebody sings Kung Fu Fighting even though the scene has nothing to do with Kung Fu

*(If you think the portrayal of Chinese people is problematic... you'll be floored at the depictions of women!)

I'm not Chinese and I was cringing.  No wonder people are walking out!  

"When encountering non-Asians masquerading as Asians in yellow face in twenty-first-century stage musical performances, I feel righteously angry, profoundly sad, and racially alienated."

Donatella Galella, ibid. 

People don't like to feel left out.  They like to be included.  If you are making a panto that doesn't make people feel included, not only are you likely to get bawled out on X née Twitter, you aren't doing yourself any favours at the box office.

Of course, you don't have to set it in China.  Andrew Jackson's script ditches the Emperor of China in favour of a General of Pantoland.  If you aren't sold on that, another clever idea comes from Dave Crump's very competent NODA script who does set the plot in China, but casts the characters as Brits:

"Wishee: If this is Peking Mom, how come none of us are Chinese? 

 

Twankey: China is the fastest growing country in the world, lots of Brits moved here, it’s practically full of people from Sutton Coldfield."

Dave Crump,  great script!

These approaches may not be traditional but the scripts are good! 

Does that mean we can't set Aladdin in China?  No.  But we can't use 'tradition' as a smokescreen for churning out the same old, tired crap.  It's lazy, it's otherising and if nothing else: it's boring.

Generic image of writing specifically

5 Ways to do Something Better

• Do your research,
• Be specific, ("Oriental" or "Asian" is not a homogenous melting pot)
• Write characters, not stereotypes
• Write your own jokes about what's going on in the plot
• For the love of God, just call the policemen something else other than Prawn and Cracker... if you can't think of anything better, you can have my idea: PC World and Sergeant Pepper.  No copyright, you're welcome.

Well, that's my twopennethworth.  I suppose I'll see you all in the comments section, and I'll give the last word to DYL

"Nobody’s looking to dumb down panto. By acknowledging and taking into account the cultural melting pot that is modern Britain, I would argue that we’re asking it to be more appreciative of complex racial and societal nuance."

Daniel York Loh, 2018

 

Panto isn't for kids, you 'nana!

The Biggest Lie in Pantomime

If there's one prevalent myth that needs busting, it's that pantomimes are for kids.

They aren't.

At least, our pantos aren't.  

Of course, there are producers who make pantos for kids.  That's why their pantos are crap. 

Ours are much better than that... our pantomimes are family entertainment.

This is a point I often have to iterate when I come across panto-refuseniks and try to persuade them to come along.

"I don't have any kids to bring with me," they say - as though that's a reasonable excuse not to snap up a ticket.

"You don't need to bring any kids," I explain.  "Family entertainment just means it's suitable for families.  It's really great fun for grown ups too."

This message seems to have permeated our local audience (in Saddleworth, 70% of our tickets for public performances are sold to groups without children).

Of course, we make the shows with kids in mind.  It's kinda pantomime's schtick.  But the honest truth is: children are not a particularly discerning audience.

Kids Being Easily Entertained
Photo by Dionehinchliff, CC by SA-2.0

I'm not saying kids don't know what they like - they obviously do.  Kids like bold characters, funny jokes, bright colours, slapstick, gunge - a good pantomime uses all of these elements.  However (and I'm sorry if this comes as a surprise to you) there are a lot of downright awful pantomimes out there, and most of them have all these elements too.

That's not to say that kids will like any old tosh.  It is certainly possible to make a show that kids don't like - I've seen a fair few pantos that fall into that category (OMG, you are really in trouble if you make a panto and even the kids don't like it!)

But the problem with making shows 'for kids' is that it demands you meet only the lowest of standards.  

Who cares that the Uglies were wearing old rags, did you hear all the kids shouting 'boo' when they tore up the invite?  

Who cares that the plot didn't make any sense, did you hear all the kids sing along to Baby Shark? 

Who cares that Wishee-Washee has no discernible character arc, did you hear how loud the kids shouted "Watcha Wishee!" when he came on?

Kids don't care.

Who cares?
Photo by radarsmum67; CC by 2.0

Does anyone care?

Adults care.  At least they should.  Up and down the country, adults attend truly terrible pantos for all kinds of spurious reasons ranging from guilt to tradition. 

By contrast: good pantos are enjoyed by everyone: kids and adults alike.

Not only is it good art, it's good business.

Remember, adults buy tickets, children do not.  The big panto in town might be 'good for kids', but if mum and dad love the panto down the road, then down the road is where they'll be heading.

Also - not every family has young children.  If your business model relies on pester-power to get bums on seats, you've excluded a large potential customer base.  Furthermore, even families who have young kids, don't have young kids forever - kids grow up, and once they do, shows 'made for kids' lose all of their pulling power.

Demographic shift is coming.  Families are getting smaller; audiences are getting older - and these trends are only becoming more pronounced.  Even if pantomime's were supposed to be shows for kids (which they aren't, but hey ho...) the relative customer base is declining, which is why the smart money's on companies who can diversify what they're offering to meet the evolving requirements of the market share they've established.

The UK's Aging Population

How to tell if your panto is crap

So you've put on a panto.  You've sold a few tickets, some programmes, the odd flashing sword and a fairy's wand or two.  You saunter round the bar at the interval... everybody seems happy enough.  But then again, you remember, it's Christmas - people are always happy at Christmas.  Maybe they're just glad they're off work tomorrow.   Doubts creep in.  

You decide to get some quick audience feedback.  You smile and approach a young mum.  "Are you having a nice time?" you ask.

She smiles and replies - maybe not quite as effusively as you would have liked.  Of course, you were probably hoping for something quite clear and direct, such as: "OMG, WOW!" or perhaps "Watching Act 1 of this play has been a key, seminal moment in my life."  So now you're left trying to pick through her words to parse what she really feels.

Here's a handy quick guide to help you translate:

WHAT THEY SAY: "It's really great.'

WHAT THEY MEAN: "Well done. You've made a good panto."

WHAT THEY SAY: “The kids are loving it.” 

WHAT THEY MEAN: “The panto is crap, but the kids are too young to realise.” 

WHAT THEY SAY: “My eldest's a bit old for panto.” 

WHAT THEY MEAN: “A 12 year old can see that the panto is crap.” 

 

WHAT THEY SAY: “I just like watching the kids enjoying themselves” 

WHAT THEY MEAN: “The panto is so crap, I would literally rather watch other members of the audience than the performance’."

 

WHAT THEY SAY: “There were loads of kids in the audience” 

WHAT THEY MEAN: “The panto is so crap, local people now take it in turns to chaperone each other’s kids so they can have a year off.” 

 

WHAT THEY SAY: “My favourite bit was where you got the kids up on stage."

WHAT THEY MEAN: ”The pantowas crap, but you saved it with a good song sheet."

Doing something better

The first step towards recovery is admitting you have a problem.  

Don't panic.  You're not alone!  Trust me, I see dozens of pantos every year - loads of pantos are crap.  The good news is, they don't have to be.  Despite what you may been led to believe, it is not beyond the wit of man to write a show that simultaneously contains enough slapstick, gunge and puns to entertain a child, whilst also including enough character comedy, tension and jeopardy to entertain an adult.

How?

That's a trade secret, one that I share only with the few select people who actually read my blog... 

... get ready...

... here it comes... 

... the trick is...

...

... instead of regurgitating any old nonsense, write something genuinely entertaining.  And by that I mean: entertaining for an actual, discerning grown-up.  

I know what I'm about to say might seem totally crazy, but trust me, it totally works.  If you write something so funny it makes grown-ups laugh, kids will laugh at it too!  I know right?  Who knew!  

And it's not just for jokes either - if you write something that's genuinely moving - in the sense that it engenders pathos in an actual, discerning adult, the very same scene will move the kids too!  

Ditto for tension.  

Ditto for catharsis.  

Ditto for dramatic irony.  

IN FACT, it turns out that to make a good kids show, all that you really need to do is make a good show and then let the kids watch it!  

So now you know.  Remember: mum's the word!  It's a trade secret.  Don't spread it around, or everyone will start making good pantos, and we wouldn't want any of that!

Mum's the Word
Photo by Simon_music; CC by 2.0