Having said that, when the cast are as high calibre as this, the lack of a recognisable story seems a minor quibble. I gobbled it up.
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The joy of pantomime can come in the mistakes, and with no room for error, Pantoland is too pristine for its own good. Even so, and to change a Donny Osmond lyric, I love theatre for a reason, let the reason be pantomime.
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It’s a blast...This is panto, but nothing like we know it...This is innuendo peppered with the most fabulous variety acts with no reference whatever to a story.
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Harrison has created an extravagant alternative to pantomime. It’s entertaining, nostalgic and perhaps a little sentimental but more of a salute to variety than a true pantomime.
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Yet for all the high-kicking (the 12 dancers of the Tiller Girls) and flame-fuelled stunts (the Australian duo Spark Fire Dance), this is a notch less bewitching than previous pantos here.
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Nonetheless, this is Variety theatre that’s low on, er, variety. If you really are going to dispense with plot and go for all-out spectacle amid an unstoppable stream of unprintable quips about sex, you need a bit more than rings of fire and a line of dancing women with feathers on their heads.
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