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Pantoland, review: variety theatre that’s high on smut and low on variety

Julian Clary in Pantoland - Paul Coltas
Julian Clary in Pantoland - Paul Coltas

“You wonder why they let the children in,” says Julian Clary with characteristic piquant weariness during this year’s kitschy glitzy extravaganza after firing off yet another arrow of eye-watering filth.

Well, quite. Parents know by now, or ought to, that when Clary makes a gag at the Palladium, it’s seldom for the benefit of the kids. Even so, the same parents might be forgiven for expecting a show billed as a celebration of all things pantomime to contain a bit more than stream-of-consciousness innuendo. Yes, the sets are as splendid as ever, and several familiar skits are impeccably revived, yet with Pantoland dropping all pretence at a child-friendly plot, the Palladium’s Christmas show is becoming, perhaps irredeemably, a case of adult-flavoured style over content.

Pantoland was conceived last year as a stop-gap response to Covid and ran for six performances before lockdown terminated it just before Christmas. There’s no similar excuse this year for half measures, particularly on this budget, yet Clary and co have retained the concept, serving up a reheated package of greatest hits. There is a gooey self-referential framing device – literally, the proscenium arch is studded with posters celebrating Palladium pantos past, featuring Cilla Black, Max Bygraves and Frankie Howerd plus Clary of course – contextualising Pantoland within the great Palladium and very British tradition of variety entertainment. Oh it’s a great tradition, yes it is, but telling us so every five minutes merely diminishes it.

The big draw is Donny Osmond, still capable of inciting audience hysteria at 64. His voice is still remarkable, belting out Puppy Love with quivering gusto, but he’s a jarringly corny presence in a show that typically prides itself on maintaining an arch distance from sentiment. There is a toe-curling moment at the start of Act II when he delivers a desperately earnest song praising his fellow “clowns of entertainment”.

Those clowns of entertainment are indeed entertaining but, even within the context of reprising past glories, their schtick is becoming a tad worn. Panto dame Gary Wilmot, dressed in a perky yellow frock, runs through his Tube line and his sweet trolley skits yet again. The technically excellent ventriloquist Paul Zerdin and his puppet Sam once again beatbox, and royally humiliate a game couple from the audience.

Julian Clary and Donny Osmand in Pantoland - Paul Coltas
Julian Clary and Donny Osmand in Pantoland - Paul Coltas

The only real wow factor comes from Australian stunt duo Spark Fire Dance, who do with blow torches what cheerleaders do with ribbons. There is wow factor of a different, far more dubious sort in the form of the Tiller Girls, a chorus line troupe formed in 1894 who were staples of Sunday Night at the Palladium in the 1970s and whose high kicks and lacquered smiles seem intent on dragging us back there.

Clary remains a dangerous live presence, getting away with gags that these days no one else would dare attempt, including calling for a lesbian backstage to fix a broken light. Nigel Havers is a winningly surreal one – at one point randomly walking across the stage dressed as a Christmas Pudding. There is some classic silly panto fun, including a routine involving priapic wooden spoons and a giddy rendition of The 12 Days of Christmas (both from previous shows).

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.


Until Jan 9. Tickets: lwtheatres.co.uk