What do you do when you’re out for the evening and you bump into a chap from work and he’s clearly wearing eyeliner and lipstick?
… Go and watch him in his panto, of course!
It was my first experience of expat amateur dramatics and there were the usual cheesy jokes, songs and topical references along the way, as Dorothy from KL – wearing her ruby flippers –
tried to make her way to the wonderful land of Singapore.
At one point she found her way barred by two very camp trees –
who also told jokes whilst flaunting their codpieces
… and I’m predicting a global shortage of purple Lycra once these pictures go viral.
The show was held in the theatre of the British School, and was easily the most impressive school theatre I’ve ever been in. It was a very un-cosmopolitan audience and an American friend remarked that she’d never before seen so many British people all together in the same place … she’s obviously never been to England, as we tend to specialise in that sort of crowd.
We even managed a groupie fan pic at the end.
It was the most English evening I’ve spent since I held a Wimbledon, Ascot, Henley Pimm’s evening in July, and at one point I found myself explaining the concept of panto to someone from KL who’d never been to one before – leading man is actually a woman, older woman is actually a man, people on stage are unable to spot a wicked witch right behind them, audience contradicting the actors loudly and repeatedly etc etc.
I wasn’t surprised when her eyebrows went up and up and up – it really is a bizarre form of entertainment, and if you don’t understand the rules, you’re liable to think it’s just anarchy with fancy lighting and plush seats.
Maybe that’s why we’ve never had an actual revolution in Britain – we prefer our anarchy in comfortable surroundings for a couple of hours at a time, and then we can go home for a nice cup of tea.