BE aware, be very aware, they are all round us, they've taken over theatres, town halls, indoors and outdoors and there's one near you - in fact you may well have taken advantage already... Pantomimes, that is.
Technically this is the season to be merry, not easy at the moment, but the colour, the music and laughter brings joy to both children and adults and I suspect the cast - if Covid can be avoided.
I had the great pleasure of being part of a summer pantomime once so I had my one and only view from behind the footlights - or is it in front of the footlights?
A Once Upon A Time Story
I was sitting in a restaurant in University Street. My mobile rings. Ian Wilson, then publicity manager at the Opera House - and today chief executive - asks if I am sitting down.
Yes. "Well," he says, "We want you to be in the summer show."
"OK," is my reply. "Don't you want to think about it?" No, my theory in life is it's better to say yes than no. 'No' closes too many doors.
So the adventure began, two weeks' rehearsal in Tower Theatre Islington, two weeks in the Grand Opera House and three weeks in the Gaiety Theatre, Dublin. The show was Beauty and the Beast; I was the Countess and my son Danton was none other than the late Lionel Blair.
We met under a weeping willow on July 12 1998 when amongst a dozen actors and dancers a white tornado blew into the garden.
"Sorry darlings, couldn't find a parking place so I've abandoned the Roller on double yellow lines and a note to say I'll move it when I can." He signed it 'Star' - but he still got a ticket.
We were immediate friends and I'll miss his phone call on Christmas morning: "Darling it's your son, are you all right, are you happy?"
Acting Is No Joke
It requires concentration, courage and a certain ego. Opening night was a triumph. Friends and family ensured I'd plenty of flowers delivered to my dressing room, Pauline my dresser was there to soothe me and make sure my crinoline was well hooked and my headdress straight.
Afterwards it was over to the Crown Bar to accept the compliments, heady stuff.
But then reality hits - one show, often two shows, tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, for five weeks. I 'dried' on one occasion but Sophie Lawrence, our Beauty, saw my eyes go blank and saved the day by immediately asking a question that put me back on track.
The nerves jangle no matter who you are, rehearsals are over and for better or worse you're on the side of the stage, you hear the murmur of the audience and then the shout, "The Iron is up."
History in action as you step into the limelight. It goes back to the day in 1837 when the limelight was first used at Covent Garden Theatre. Here I go to the encyclopaedia for explanation.
"If calcium carbonate, or limestone, is heated it produces calcium oxide, also called quicklime. Limelight is produced by heating quicklime to a high temperature. When it's heated with a flame produced by burning a combination of hydrogen and oxygen gases through a blow pipe, quicklime glows a bright white, or, in other words, becomes incandescent - this is known as limelight."
It was used in theatres and music halls in the 1860s and 1870s for spotlighting and creating sunlight and moonlight effects. Naturally this was a dangerous procedure, the audience having to cope with dangerous fumes and numerous fires were the result.
In 1876, sadly 278 people died in a fire at the American Brooklyn Theatre,
Safety First
This, and many other fires, lead to safety regulations coming into place including stronger walls to prevent collapse, improved water supplies for fire fighting; the number of exits were increased and an iron fire curtain dividing the stage from the auditorium, I remember the thrill of hearing the shout: "The Iron's coming in", heralding the start of the show.
The 'curtain', was originally made of nine tonnes of iron lined with asbestos but more often these days, as in the GOH, it's steel and electrically operated but still referred to as 'The Iron'.
The cast of Beauty and the Beast included Paddy Jenkins, currently playing Paddy the ringmaster, husband of Dame May McFettie who owns a circus and is fighting for its survival.
"It's a fantastic show, but very different this year," he told me of Goldilocks and The Three Bears.
"When you and I worked together there was a lot of mixing, off to the pub and parties, always fun."
Our sausage sketch with Bella Emberg and Paul Hendy was very double entendre and a letter came from a Dublin bishop who came to see the show before bringing his young parishioners.
His letter was scathing about the morals of pantomime, the wicked behaviour and sexual innuendo of Dame Dora and Loopy Louis and he was cancelling his booking and reporting us all to the Pope. Major crisis, this was awful, what to do?
Eventually, at an emergency cast meeting, I had to admit I wrote the letter. Relief and a lot of laughs. No such interaction these days, as Paddy confirmed.
"No, this year we are having to stay in our dressing rooms, no green room to relax and no front of house coming back stage for a chat and news of audience reaction."
The way it is in December 2021 but it's still something wonderful for cast and guests, it must be for Paddy Jenkins anyway, this is his 19th pantomime and tomorrow will be his 1,517 performance.
To pantomime players all over the country, back stage, on stage and welcoming us at the front door, thank you for the fun, for making the story end in happiness for the goodies and dismissal of the baddies and love for all.
Have a happy Christmas, many of you on your one day off, and may the future allow lots of fun in the green room.
