At the close of Robin Hood – this year’s festive offering from the Birmingham Hippodrome – fan favourite Matt Slack informs the crowd of a genuinely impressive benchmark. It just so happens to be bonafide legend – and ‘special guest’ star – Christopher Biggins’ sixtieth panto outing.

It’s a crowd-pleasing denouement to what has been a legitimately inspired and hilarious running gag throughout, as Biggins is repeatedly wheeled out (sometimes literally) throughout the show for a brief few moments, only to be chastised and kicked straight back off stage, as it isn’t yet time for his King Richard’s return. It’s just one of many wrinkles that makes this production so fresh, fun and gleefully silly, and just you wait to see what they do with him in ‘If I Were Not Upon the Stage’.

Back to panto Top Trumps though, and it isn’t as though Slack himself is, well… slacking. Hood marks his own twenty-third pantomime production, and an impressive twelfth consecutive year in Brum. It’s clear from the moment he first comically struts onto the stage that the audiences clearly still eat him up, and from this red letter outing, it isn’t difficult to see why. Nipping at his heels with an eye-popping assemblage of utterly genius frocks and get ups is the wonderful Andrew Ryan, chalking up his ninth consecutive visit to the Hippodrome and once again proving there really is nothing like a great dame (yes, I said dame).

“It’s clear from the moment he first comically struts onto the stage that the audiences clearly still eat him up…”

The highly successful model of QDOS migrating last year’s London Palladium offering to the Hippodrome continues this year with Hood. If you paid a visit to Julian Clary and Jane McDonald’s iteration in 2024 you’ll already be familiar with the lavish production values, stunning costumes and general narrative bent (hint: it’s utter nonsense, but joyfully so), and yet there’s undoubtedly more than enough here that is fresh and new to make it a comfortable must-see.

Slack is, as mentioned, one of the major draws. It almost goes without saying now, but he is effortlessly entertaining and wheels out a host of materials, gags and routines old and new. We get the human jukebox hijinks and aforementioned ‘Not Upon the Stage’, in addition to new flourishes such as a spirited acrobatic interlude with The Acromaniacs and a genuinely jaw-dropping and side-splitting about-turn in one of his late show staples (hint: it involves younger members of the audiences). It’s a joy, and seriously impressive, to consider he’s been gracing the Hippodrome stage for over a decade and he feels as spritely, animated and irrepressible as ever.

Ryan is once again a delicious panto dame, this time as Robin’s mother, Henrietta, and although past years have offered stiff competition and set an astronomically high and elaborate bar, Teresa Nalton’s costumes and concoctions this time round have to surely be the best to date. From a mushroom masterpiece to practically an entire gazebo – trimmed bush and all – the invention and whimsy is off the scale.

But, as is par for the course with the Hippodrome, the wider cast and production fire on plenty of cylinders of their own, too. TV favourite Gok Wan returns and is an ebullient gem, with the genuine rapport he shares with Slack completely palpable and utterly infectious. They somehow even manage to make the frequent planned corpsing feel completely naturalistic and quite the hoot, when it can so easily feel grating. The two make a formidable comic pairing, as Gok Scarlett and the titular hero dabble about in heroics, slapstick and even a spot of bedroom mischief.

“TV favourite Gok Wan returns and is an ebullient gem, with the genuine rapport he shares with Slack completely palpable and utterly infectious.”

The X Factor champion Matt Cardle is suitably boo-hiss-able as a wolf-corralling Sheriff of Nottingham, whilst Steps’ Faye Tozer is a feisty and no-nonsense Maid Marian. Naturally, she riffs off a bit of ‘Tragedy’ and ‘Afraid of the Dark’, too, and sounds damn good doing so, to boot. And if that weren’t enough belting and heavy hitting for you, Robin Hood rounds out its vocal artillery with musical theatre veteran and powerhouse Sandra Marvin as the Spirit of Sherwood Forest.

Transmogrifying the already acclaimed spectacle and bombast of the Palladium’s serving last year (gigantic animatronic wolf and all) and infusing it with a great new cast, local favourites and a host of original ideas and unrelenting silliness has proven a recipe success at the Hippodrome for several years now. But even by that metric and expectation, Robin Hood is an especially joyful and colourful beast.

Grab your ‘old longbow’ and steal from the rich to nab yourself a ticket if you must. In over a decade of anticipating and reviewing the Hippodrome’s annual pantomime offering, Slack and his band of merry men and women may have just conjured up their finest hour to date, and the funniest, most glamorous pantomime this side of Gilly Gilly Ossenfegger Katzenellen Bogen by the Sea.

It’s not quite clear exactly which ‘yam yam’ frogs the team at the Wolverhampton Grand have been kissing of late, or what dark and forbidden tomes they may have been plundering, but there’s no denying there’s magic abound in the Black Country this Christmas.

It’s no fluke, either. The regional theatre has been swinging hard and hitting strong with its impressive slew of in-house panto productions in recent years, and with this gigawatt Beauty, they score a gorgeous, hilarious home run.

A panto with actual, legitimate plot twists? Colour me floored. One of the strongest winners in the entirety of the Drag Race oeuvre vamping and camping up the best panto villain you’ll see this year? Gagged and stupefied. A joyful homecoming for the theatre’s resident panto MVPs, Ian Adams and Tam Ryan? Tens across the board.

It’s a dizzyingly fun, colourful and vibrant evening of distilled panto magic, stuffed with signature set pieces (the year we don’t get an Adams ‘I Don’t Care’ sequence is when the pitchforks come out), a smorgasbord of impressions, slapstick fun and genuinely impressive song and dance numbers and production values that will whisk you away beyond even the West End.

“…a dizzyingly fun, colourful and vibrant evening of distilled panto magic.”

It’s Sleeping Beauty a la pantomime, so the core narrative beats are present, tried and true, this time housed in the whimsical kingdom of old Bilstonia (sound familiar?). Adams and Ryan have a lot of fun with the fairytale tropes and cultural postmodernisms alike. As is custom, they offer up plenty of jabs and swipes at everything from the likes of Rachel Reeves, Keir Starmer, that numerical craze… and, well, Smethwick (naturally).

There’s more conventional (see: extremely welcome) fare – such as when Ryan, as ‘Mickey Fortune’ mines lots of laughter from a fun but familiar extended bit about voice recognition and hit songs. Once again kids of all ages lap up his top-notch clownery throughout. Adams, as ‘Mary Fortune’, again delivers your quintessential panto dame with verve, double entendre and toe-tapping bonhomie to spare.

If the stalwarts again posit themselves as being amongst the best in the biz, the newcomers more than keep up, too. Comedy impressionist (and former Corrie star) Debra Stephenson is a kindly presence as ‘Queen Bertha’, but really shines when she’s cut loose to serve up her wheelhouse of impersonations. Whipping through the likes of Stacy Solomon, Lorraine Kelly and even Donald Trump, it’s quite disarming – and deliciously entertaining – being reminded just how bloody good she is at it. Sure, the likes of Anne Robinson may be mining the depths of relevancy a bit too far for some of the audience, but by the time a little Cilla croons in, at least Ryan is ready with a quip for the younger generation to ‘ask your grandparents’.

Georgia Iudica-Davies is lovely and in fine voice as the titular heroine, whilst TV star Zak Douglas offers up some great physical comedy as the hapless ‘Gerald the Herald’. Good luck finding a more perfect or dashing panto prince than musical theatre star (and local lad done good) Solomon Davy. Davy continues his ascent and showcases why a future Fiyero or similar is surely on the cards, and just you wait for his ‘I’m All Alone’ number in the second act… not least of all thanks to its utterly bonkers and inspired finale (particularly moving on the performance reviewed, for reasons patrons of the Grand will have appreciated).

“…a barnstorming performance and one that Beard makes worth the price of admission alone.”

Which leaves the inimitable, towering colossus of camp that is Danny Beard. It’s alchemy of the most malevolent and masterful sort, as not only does Beard utterly command the stage with every strut, stomp and even Fosse (seriously, Chicago fans will be in their element here) but so too is his Carabosse as raucously funny as she is delectably sinister. Whether belting out Conchita Wurst, ratcheting up the spectacle summoning pillars of flames or even a towering dragon for our heroes to do battle with, it’s a barnstorming performance and one that Beard makes worth the price of admission alone. That this particular reviewer was almost crying with laughter at just a ridiculous Irish drawl when Carabosse dons a disguise is testimony to the triple (quadruple?… clock the mug) threat that the drag champion represents.

Beard is helped in no small way by David Shields’ wonderful costume work, with Carabosse’s outfits in particular routinely threatening to steal the show. But Shields spreads his magic across the breadth of Bilstonia and its residents and, coupled with Sam Hilditch’s glorious technicolor bedazzlement and David Janson and Natalie Bennyworth’s spritely, energised direction and choreography keep this Beauty far too eye-popping to ever send you off to sleep. There’s zombie chickens, vaudeville style tap numbers, repeat nods to The Traitors, a villainous spin on the Cell Block Tango, and an anarchic riff on the Twelve Days of Christmas that, if something of a chestnut, is a spiritedly executed one at that.

Whilst Beard towers over the cast and company – clocking in at just over eight feet in full stilettos and regalia – and his brilliant, bombastic Carabosse threatens to do the same over the whole show, the truth is there is excellence on show everywhere you look here. It ticks so many boxes, gets so much right and is so crammed with wholesome, effortless family friendly fabulousness that you’d likely be able to sleep for a hundred years and rest assured that few better pantos would pass by in the time.

Breathlessly camp and colourful with production value to spare and boasting standout turns from old favourites and fabulous new friends alike, as the Grand continue to carve their identity as a go-to home for top drawer festive entertainment, they once more strike perfect panto gold here with a true ‘Beauty’, indeed.

If last year’s Jack and the Beanstalk outing for the Birmingham Hippodrome was a bit of a manic cluster bomb that slightly underutilised some of its cast and didn’t quite live up to the ‘drome’s usual (admittedly stratospheric) standard, then all eyes were on this year’s Peter Pan, for this reviewer at least, to see if it could recapture that pixie dust of Brummie panto perfection.

The first move Michael Harrison and co get right is scooping up the return of national treasure – and bonafide Birmingham royalty – Alison Hammond. The This Morning and Bake Off host’s infectious, Earthy likability and proud local lilt was a perfect addition to last year’s lineup, and it’s undeniably great to have her back. The rapport she shares with honorary Brummie – and undisputed audience favourite – Matt Slack (returning this time round his eleventh consecutive outing at the Hippodrome), is palpable, genuine and buckets of fun.

But as magical a mermaid as Alison proves to be, and as terrific as it is to see Slack back on indefatigable, hilarious top form, Peter Pan flies because it is a much more rounded and satisfying piece of pantomime jugglery.

As is to now be expected, this is as lavish and opulent a feast for the eyes as you’ll see outside of the M25. The Hippodrome never fails to deliver a dazzling spectacle, and the piratey, Neverland trappings of Pan give designers Mark Walters, Ben Cracknell, Teresa Dalton and Mike Coltman a true nautical playground to go to town with. From flashing, zapping electric eels, ginormous animatronic reptilians to a cannon-inspired dame frock that would have even Julian Clary blushing, this is comfortably one of the most dazzling, visually arresting productions you could sink into this Christmas and New Year.

In fact, you’ll need to split some very fine hairs indeed to find pretty much anything here that’s anything less than grand. Harry Michaels and Slack himself have fashioned a hearty, hilarious panto offering that admirably starts out with a strong focus on the story of the boy who never grew up, before gradually folding the usual panto frolics and set pieces into the mix.

“…you’ll need to split some very fine hairs indeed to find pretty much anything here that’s anything less than grand.”

It feels a trifle cynical to get into the minutiae of structure in a pantomime, but there’s a far more even-handed balancing of all of Pan’s myriad, joyful elements this time round when compared with last year’s Beanstalk. Andrew Ryan’s wonderful Dame – this time one Mrs Sylvia Smee – gets to have far more fun this time round (after being relegated to a couple of mopey ballads last year), here vamping up a storm with some post-modern riffs to outright unabashedly camp mash-ups of Gaga and La Cage. As always, the frocks are to die for.

From a lagoon-inspired repurposing of Earth, Wind and Fire’s ‘Boogie Wonderland’ to returnee Danny Mac doing a sizzling job of reminding everyone that he’s got both the moves and vocals to match with a corker of a take on ‘Jailhouse Rock’, the big musical numbers are suitably show-stopping and infused with character and fun. And, naturally, there’s an abundance of funny, too, often masterfully conducted by the maestro of mischief, Slack himself.

There’s an ingenious skit of map-themed puns, the customary free-for-all of ‘A Sailor Went To Sea’ as Hammond, Slack, Mac and Ryan engage in increasingly chaotic slapstick shenanigans and, perhaps most hilarious of all, a truly masterful impressionistic take on The Proclaimers that is up there with the funniest and most impressive of bits that Slack has delivered in his impressive, eleven-year tenure.

It’s all great, funny fare, and an impressive cast and ensemble put in the legwork to keep the energy levels high and the laughs coming thick and fast. Noah Harrison makes for a great Peter Pan, impish and boyishly charming, the kids in particular will love him as a young hero to root for. Danny Mac, meanwhile, is inspired, shrewdly playing his villainous Captain Hook completely nefarious and almost entirely straight… though not without a few cheeky jabs of self-deprecation at how seriously he is taking it all.

“…a terrific spot of panto villainy, and one that makes his aforementioned big musical moment all the more disarming.”

It’s a terrific spot of panto villainy, and one that makes his aforementioned big musical moment all the more disarming. Hammond is once again a delight, and when you have Matt Slack at his best as he is here then there are few, if any, in the industry that can match him.

Reclaiming its heritage as one of the finest pantos in all of the (Never Never) land, the Hippodrome has a treasure trove of real 24-carat booty on its hands – and hooks – with Peter Pan. With a touching nod to the venue’s recent 125th birthday, Hammond, Slack and Mac are a magical, winning combo in a dream of a panto that, in all the best ways will make you feel like you never grew up, either.

Chart a course for the second star to the right, and be prepared to be giggling straight through until morning!

“Same jokes, different costume.”

You can’t help but admire the irrepressible tenacity of Brum panto favourite, Matt Slack. Much is (deservedly) made of this year’s offering, Jack and the Beanstalk, being his tenth outing on the Birmingham Hippodrome stage. No mean feat, and a rousing riff on Sinatra’s ‘That’s Life’ (‘That’s Pantomime’), recapping his various roles and co-stars over the years, is one of the evening’s highlights – moving and funny in equal measure. He even gets a cheeky slip in about his 2016/17 co-star John Barrowman being a bit of a ‘c*ck’.

Having done a masterful job over the past decade of strutting, tomfooling and improv’ing his way around the law of diminishing returns, it has to be said that this year’s Beanstalk, in which Slack plays the traditional fool in the form of Jack’s (Alexanda O’Reilly) older brother, ‘Jake’, feels like the first time the inimitable Slack magic and formula has begun to feel just that tiniest bit familiar.

He’s still, pound-for-pound, gag-for-gag, one of the most dependable funny men you could wish for on a panto stage (and mercifully already signed up for round eleven, in next year’s Peter Pan), but outside of a rather ingenious A-Z of impersonations and the aforementioned ‘That’s Pantomime’, there’s a recurring niggling sense that, by Slack’s own admission, we’ve seen and heard much of it before (hilarious though it may be).

The other big sell this year is the debut of local gal-done-good, Alison Hammond, in what is contrarily her first ever panto. Similar to Slack, not only does the This Morning and Bake Off presenter make for a natural fit for self-deprecating, giddy pantomime silliness as the ‘Spirit of the Beans’, lighting up the stage during everything from a goofy Strictly/Dirty Dancing mashup to the perhaps-inevitable TikTok interlude, but so too does she offer up some poignancy and even a tug on the old heart-strings. Most notably when paying homage to her late mom, drawing attention to the seat dedicated to her memory in the Hippodrome auditorium, and her own personal history with the theatre.

Together, Slack and hammond are spirited, vibrant and consummately entertaining, and there’s no denying the opulent, Olivier-nominated staging by Mark Walters somehow becomes even more dazzling whenever they take to it. It has become tradition for the Hippodrome to inherit the previous year’s London Palladium panto, so there’s little surprise that here is a show positively packed with at-times jaw-dropping production value and glitz. A towering trio of puppet giants early on are merely an appetiser for some of the spectacle and scale to come. By the time Hammond struts out in an enormous neon peacock plume (unsurprisingly a Julian Clary hand-me-down) and the titular McMuffin bursts out from the stalls to reach up to the Hippodrome ceiling, there’s no denying this Beanstalk is comfortably one of the biggest, richest and most visually stunning pantos in all the land.

“..there’s no denying this Beanstalk is comfortably one of the biggest, richest and most visually stunning pantos in all the land.”

It’s just a slight shame that, in what feels like a whippet-fast (some may even say hurried…) variety extravaganza, so many of the fantastic cast feel rather underused. The ever excellent Andrew Ryan gives great dame, and benefits from the best of Hugh Durrant’s hilarious, high-concept costumes, but he’s mostly handed a couple of poe-faced ballads and, outside of some customary cheekiness with the front row, and repurposed Act II favourite ‘If I Were Not Upon The Stage’, Ryan doesn’t get all that much time or space to truly camp it up. Similar can be said of the fantastic Gill Jordan as Doreen Tipton who, despite finally getting a true panto realisation of her ‘lazy cow’ persona, is mostly used for song and dance numbers and (admittedly funny) dairy puns, yet is afforded precious little opportunity to showcase her comedic chops (sorry, we shouldn’t mention chops!). She does at least get the chance to put in another roof-raiser, after last year’s very welcome Cats surprise. We shan’t spoil which classic musical gets the ‘my goodness, she can really sing’ treatment this time round, but someone get this lady on a West End stage post-haste.

Samantha Womack proves a terrific panto villainess as giant’s wife, ‘Mrs Blunderbore’, who could probably do with a few more outwardly boo-hiss-worthy moments. Still, Womack sings and dances up a storm, and crucially doesn’t seem to be taking any of it all too seriously. The decision to upgrade the show’s ‘Princess Jill’ from pure damsel-in-distress to co-giant slayer is a nice, empowering and modern twist, even if the talented Billie-Kay is, again, sadly underutilised.

Local talent Alexanda O’Reilly, in the lead role of ‘Jack’ himself, fares slightly better, and is a whirlwind of flips, kicks and knockout vocals. He elevates the traditionally rather flat and beige panto prince persona into something boyishly energised and electric, and by the time he’s wowing in a barnstorming (quite literally) variety show number midway through, or traversing the towering beanstalk come the Act I curtain closer, there’s a palpable sense that a musical theatre star is born (or rather, affirmed – this not being O’Reilly’s first outing by any stretch of the imagination).

It’s rare to wish for a pantomime to be longer – and at just over two hours including the interval, Jack and the Beanstalk is by no means short. And yet, perhaps as overspill from its Palladium roots, it regularly tiptoes to feeling more akin to a fabulous, decadent variety fest than a conventional pantomime. Ryan, Jordan and Womack in particular all feel like their fabulousness needs an extra set piece or two to bed in and vamp up, and if Slack’s trademark back-and-forth with a selection of tykes from the audience would need to be where the hammer stroke fell, I think audiences could probably live with that (although the performance reviewed featured probably the single funniest and feistiest young guest to date).

Quibbles such as these aside, though, this is still glittering, big-budget panto gold. Hammond is an infectious, lovable delight and an inspired addition to the Hippodrome’s storied line-up of panto greats, and although it perhaps isn’t Slack’s absolute best year, it’s nonetheless a moving anniversary outing that reminds audiences of his inherent brilliance in the panto field. You will also flat out not find a regional production in the country that can compete with the sheer size and wonderment of what Michael Harrison and Crossroads conjure up again here.

So toss your magic beans onto the compost heap, leave your worries on the farm, and climb a joyous, dazzling variety beanstalk to the very heart of Brum with two of its most beloved stars.

“He’s making a list, he’s checking it twice…”

No, not that bearded fellow who clashes with the postboxes. We’re talking about Wolverhampton Grand Chief Exec (and artistic director), Adrian Jackson, the City’s very own Saint Nick this Christmas.

Seizing the moment, grasping the sleigh reins and bringing the Grand’s annual panto fully in-house for the first time in years (last year’s Aladdin having been co-produced with Evolution Productions), Jackson’s festive gambit has arrived. He isn’t shying away in the wings, either; as musical director, he’s front and centre from the off, conducting this year’s Snow White from upstage, and even a game part of a cheeky gag or two.

But has the Grand’s royal panto flourish paid off? Can this Snow White stand out amidst a packed crowd, as QDOS staples and Palladium transfers busy in about it?

In a word, yes. In two, resoundingly so.

Jackson, along with director David Janson, writers Tam Ryan and Ian Adams (more on whom, shortly…) and choreographer Natalie Bennyworth, have conjured up a rich, stonking feast of a pantomime that’s shinier than a fresh basket of golden delicious, glitzier than a rhinestoned dwarf (or puppet) and camper than, well, Christmas.

“It looks exquisite… a spectacle of real quality and polish all-round.”

Firstly, it looks exquisite. Cast aside instincts to throw in a ‘for a panto’ caveat there, too, for with its opulent and layered sets, glorious costumes (courtesy of local Midlands costume house, Triple C) and some truly splendid visual effects and lighting work, this is a spectacle of real quality and polish all-round.

And perhaps most delectable is, for all of its genuinely impressive production value, here is fundamentally a show steeped with local heritage and flavour. From an inspired, Lord of the Rings-style video prologue that introduces us to the history and plight of ‘Wulfrun’ (the show’s cypher for ‘Wolvo’ itself), featuring the likes of serial sponsor Dudley Castle and, naturally, a Steve Bull cameo, through to the reimagining of Snow White’s companions as seven ‘Peaky Miners’, there’s invention and local flavour aplenty throughout. By the time Niki Colwell Evans is skittering about as a nefarious old crone espousing full ‘yam yam’ slang as she tries to palm off her poisonous wares, Snow White’s spell of irrepressible Black Country charm is not only well and truly cast, it may very well spoil you for other, more generic, pantos altogether, too.

Loosely following the titular fairytale of a kindly Princess (returning CBeebies star, Evie Pickerell) banished away to a tower by a villainous stepmother (Evans), the plot is quintessential fun and fluffy pantomime fare. The creatives at play understand that, when it comes to panto, punchlines and set pieces trump plot, and it’s another area where the Grand pull no punches.

Whether it’s a rousing, fist-pumping invocation of Matilda the Musical’s ‘Revolting Children’ delivered via puppet, a joyous sojourn into vaudevillian excellence with a full-throated take on ‘Tap Your Troubles Away’, one of numerous bouts of slapstick chaos with Adams and Ryan (both returning from previous years to popular demand) or one of a number of truly roof-raising belts and showstoppers from Colwell Evans, Snow White is positively stacked with top-drawer panto moments.

It’s notable that its considerable length (panto or not, let’s not go there…) blitzes by, too.

“…what must surely be one of the hardest-working ensembles in all of panto land…”

Of course, this is in no small part thanks to a fantastic cast, including what must surely be one of the hardest-working ensembles in all of panto land, too. A tremendous company not only dance, sing and even ice skate up a storm, but so too do most of them puppeteer one of the seven distinctive ‘Peaky Miners’ to boot. Fantastic work across-the-board, with Elliot Baker-Costello peppering in some awesome vocals, Jack Skelton a hoot as a cantankerous Scot, and Leonie Wall offering some beautiful character work with her timid, mild-mannered ‘Peaky’.

Of the ‘poster’ cast, local-born Pickerill proves a welcome, delightful return, and Eternal’s Kelle Bryan gives great fairy godmother. Fellow CBeebies star Gyasi Sheppy is suitably dashing and game for later hijinks, as Prince William ‘Little Willy’ of Wombourne, and it isn’t difficult to see why the Grand can’t get enough of the award-winning Tam Ryan as a bundle of comedic energy and silliness in Muddles (‘this year’). Not to mention that, joke-for-joke, frock-for-frock, Ian Adams remains one of the finest, if not the finest, panto dames in all the land. Disagree? “I don’t care!”.

Camping and vamping her way to the throne, though, has to be the aforementioned Niki Colwell Evans as the dastardly Queen Dragonella. Not only is the West End star in staggeringly good voice – positively shaking the rafters with takes on ‘Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend’ and Bette Midler’s version of ‘I Put A Spell On You’ to name just a couple – but she also crucially never takes herself or the show too seriously, either. It’s a devilishly fun and impressive showing, and Jackson would probably do well to add coaxing her back onto his wish list for 2024’s recently-announced Beauty and the Beast…

“Not only is the West End star in staggeringly good voice… she also crucially never takes herself or the show too seriously, either. A devilishly fun and impressive showing…”

There’s no reason that Snow White had to be this good. Jackson, the Grand and all involved could quite easily have rested on their laurels and coasted on the knowledge that the City fairly consistently embraces panto as part of the festive calendar.

It makes the standard of production and performance assembled here all the more laudable and exciting. Here is a show that would not look one iota out of place on a West End stage. It bursts with variety, winning turns, stunning vocals and spectacle at every turn (just you wait to see how they handle the iconic ‘mirror, mirror on the wall…’).

Infused with wit, invention and ambition, stuffed with funny, fabulous performances and all delivered by a knockout company to a show-stopping calibre of sparkle and shine, Snow White is not just the best pantomime this particular reviewer has ever seen in the fair old City of ‘Wulfrun’, it’s also comfortably one of the best pantos you could hope to see this festive period.

An absolute fairytale.

Quite possibly, indeed, the fairest in all the land.

Right, let’s see how far we can get without eggs-austing the entirely predictable panoply of puns here, shall we?

…dammit.

Being a production that harkens as a throwback to panto tradition of old – in particular, taking its caravan of funny up and down the country over a period of several months – this is no strictly seasonal bird. As The Hobbit star Adam Brown, on scene-stealing form, quips late on, this particular goose has legs that stretch on until Easter.

And what glorious, fulsome legs they are.

This is as full-throated, uproariously funny and pitch-perfectly delivered as pantomime gets. Not a moment or beat is wasted, the laughs come thick and fast and, perhaps most impressively, the star power of Mother Goose’s leading duo is more than matched by the wattage of an insanely talented supporting cast and company.

We’re gushing, it’s true – but it’s deserved. This is a slice of family entertainment that effortlessly hits all the right notes – including an embarrassment of riches when it comes to show-stopping vocals – and lands its laughs and silly set pieces with relish.

It is, quite simply, perfect panto fare.

The big name draws here are undoubtedly ‘Gandalf’ himself, Ian McKellen and Scouse funny-man John Bishop. McKellen’s affinity for the stage, and visible love for the craft of pantomime in particular, anchors and steadies the entire piece. He will not, one assumes, mind my saying that he has extensive form here – his Widow Twankey now practically an instituation (including recently reviving her for his celebrated Ian Mckellen On Stage tour).

As the titular dame, his instincts for when to take it big (ohh-err) or play it smaller, subtle, even deadpan, are second-to-none. He’s undoubtedly a key reason why many will flock to watch a pantomime long after the last of the Christmas ‘pud is gone, and he certainly doesn’t disappoint. Thankfully, the show around him affords plenty of opportunity to let his hair down (or even his bra off, in a suitably bravura and bonkers curtain closer) and whether he is serving up Beefeater femme fatale realness, strutting his stuff to Right Said Fred, or just engaging in some of Mother Goose’s many panto staples (see: a zany kitchen calamity of misinterpretations and crossed purposes), Mckellen’s ‘Caroline Goose’ etches herself as another adorable, hilarious, definitive dame for the ages.

“Mckellen’s ‘Caroline Goose’ etches herself as another adorable, hilarious, definitive dame for the ages.”

Bishop plays the straight man, ‘Father’ Goose – ‘Vic’ – with gameness and a self-deprecating charm that never wears thin. Goose shrewdly affords him the chance to deliver some of his more conventional stand-up, solo style, which is characteristically solid, but it’s really when he bounces off the madness around him in suitably dry fashion that his everyman approach really works. Naturally, there are digs at the accent, Bishop’s signature elocution (or, dare I say, lack thereof) and even his comparative acting inexperience, too.

As mentioned, perhaps the most delightful takeaway here is how, buoyant and hilarious as they are, this isn’t a show that rests too heavily on the shoulders of its celebrity headliners. In fact, there’s a strong argument to be made that you could excise Mckellen and Bishop from it altogether and, painful though that may be, the rest of the cast are so energised and top-drawer, that it would still fall as an easy recommendation.

“Perhaps the most delightful takeaway here is how, buoyant and hilarious as they are, this isn’t a show that rests too heavily on the shoulders of its celebrity headliners.”

Very few go to panto for the plot, but the serviceable mould of the ‘Mother Goose’ fable – kindly carer of animals, about to be thrown off of her land, inherits golden egg-layer who, quite literally, changes her fortunes – here really pulls in the talents of every supporting character, bit part and ensemble member. McKellen’s menagerie of animal charges are all distinctive, idiosyncratic and given plenty of individual moments to shine – be it, say, Mairi Barclay’s deliciously dramatic chimpanzee, Genevieve Nicole’s sassy ‘Puss in Boots’ (not to mention her barnstorming, crackpot take on Camilla, Queen… consort?) or Richard Leeming’s gleefully awkward Bat. Many are on multiple-role duty. All are terrific. By the time stage and screen veteran Anna-Jane Casey, as the perimenopausal ‘Cilla Quack’, is belting out her rendition of Funny Girl’s ‘Don’t Rain On My Parade’, or sending up Les Misérables, you will likely be in stagey heaven.

Other supporting turns completing the roster just as winningly include Oscar Conlon-Morrey as ‘Goose’ son, Jack, and love interest, Jill – played by native Midlander, Simbi Akande. Both deliver some exquisite physical comedy, character work and vocals. Speaking of which, Goose’s resident ‘good’ and ‘bad’ fairies, Karen Mavundukure as the villainous ‘Malignia’, and Sharon Ballard as the kindly ‘Encanta’, raise the roof throughout, including some big sings courtesy of Tina Turner and Barbara Streisand classics, which they absolutely eat up.

Technically, whilst Mother Goose will likely not be the most audacious or visually arresting show out on the road right now, there’s plenty to giggle at and enjoy in Liz Ascroft’s set and costume design, including what may be my single most favourite ‘flat’ ever, in the form of a certain aeronautical landing in Act II. Expectedly, McKellen’s Caroline gets the biggest and funniest frocks, though a special mention must go to a makeover moment for Bishop that got plenty of laughs and appreciation. Christopher Barlow’s myriad animal puppets add some fun and flavour throughout, even if they feel slightly underutilised, whilst choreographer Lizzi Gee injects even some old style tap and Hollywood razzmatazz to some of the showier company numbers littered throughout.

Writer Jonathan Harvey and director Cal McCrystal do a great job in realising what is essentially organised chaos on the stage. There’s a frisson and erratic charge to Mother Goose that makes it feel more spontaneous and anarchic than it doubtless is, and the tautness and instincts of McCrystal’s direction shouldn’t be overlooked here (nor should the performances they elicit from the entire cast).

As befits a contemporary pantomime, the topics and targets of its cheekiness stem far and wide. There are plenty of old familiars, traditional chestnuts and tentpole double entendre, but there’s plenty of cultural references thrown in for fun and mischief, too. McKellen’s Middle-earth antics offer up a running gag, whilst elsewhere, Bishop’s recent tenure in Doctor Who gets a swipe. Naturally, whilst we are given ample warning at the outset, the politico don’t escape unscathed either, with Rishi Sunak, Liz Truss, and even a porcine Boris Johnson and ‘Cruella Braverman’ getting a lashing.

“…the topics and targets of its cheekiness stem far and wide.”

The stars, it seemed, decided to align for Mother Goose. An early drop-out from Mel Giedroyc aside (who has been replaced by the equally-fabulous Casey, anyway), this has proven itself a definitive, must-see panto experience that more than lives up to the hype. An utterly joyous, impeccably-performed evening (or afternoon!) of family entertainment, Mother Goose brings big laughs and bedazzlement with its star leads, but in truth, a surrounding company and ensemble that shine just as bright.

Oh, what the heck, let’s go there…

Go see it, it’s cracking!

Birmingham can lay claim to its fair share of international boasts. It’s the home of Cadbury’s, officially the greatest chocolate in the world, bar none (this author shall not be debated on this). And, over a chunk of the past decade in particular, it has been repeatedly forging a strong case for it having one of – if not the – best pantomimes in the Country.

Recent years have seen the City’s Hippodrome Theatre inherit the previous year’s production from the London Palladium, along with all its inherent glitz, glamour, production value and sparkle. But for all of the Clary’s and O’Grady’s the capital can throw at its seasonal spectacle, Brum has shrewdly held on to a somewhat unassailable comedic gold nugget in the form of the inimitable – many would say unsurpassable – Matt Slack.

If there is a finer marriage of performer and material in the panto world, I welcome you to try and find them. Now on his ninth consecutive year at the venue (and next year’s 10th milestone already booked in, for 2023’s Jack and the Beanstalk), the local favourite has firmly ensconced himself in the fibre and fabric of Birmingham’s annual festivities, and this year’s Dick Whittington is a joyous, uproariously funny and show-stopping celebration of precisely why.

“If there is a finer marriage of performer and material in the panto world, I welcome you to try and find them.”

Stepping up to the titular role, Slack’s elevation to leading man sacrifices none of his effortless, seemingly endless comic elasticity and invention on the stage. There’s plenty of meta poking at his elevation to lead, being an honorary Brummie (“without the accent… thankfully”) and the fact he’s finally going to get the girl (or is he?), and any concerns that his inspired silliness could be somehow stifled by steering the ship are quickly allayed.

He is, once again, an absolute whirlwind of manic energy, uncanny impersonations, musical mimicry and general crackpot caricature excellence. Some of his tentpole set pieces return, from an extended, hilarious story time via confectionary names, to an increasingly manic, nautical restyling of ‘The Twelve Days Of Christmas’. Amazingly, despite some of these bits also being presented for the ninth time, they remain fresh, relentlessly funny and showing no signs of fatigue or formula.

So Slack is once again the MVP, for sure, and in his elevated role it means the audience are only treated to more of his irresistible schtick, which is no bad thing, but that isn’t to say the production and company around him are in any way slouches, either.

Another Hippodrome regular, Andrew Ryan, is on hand to dish out dame duties with suitably campy relish and fabulousness, with a panoply of increasingly elaborate (not to mention buxom) outfits that will have even Drag Race enthusiasts agog. Ryan vamps and sings up a storm as sweet shop owner Felicity Fitzwarren, whilst Black Country legend Doreen Tipton (played once again to deadpan perfection by local comedienne Gill Jordan) brings her idiosyncratic drollness to the part of Dick’s trust feline companion. When you’ve got a main character with that first name, accompanied by a trusty… pussy… the double entendres come flying fast, frequent and without apology, as you can imagine. There’s even a surprisingly bravura detour to Lloyd-Webber territory thrown in for good measure, too.

“Pellow shrewdly plays his turn relatively straight, investing the show with a baddy who genuinely presents as both sinister and threatening.”

Also marking a return to the Hippodrome, after portraying the villainous Abanazar in their 2015/16 production of Aladdin, Wet Wet Wet frontman Marti Pellow is the show’s resident big bad, this time round a suitably boo-hiss-worthy ‘Rat Man’. Pellow shrewdly plays his turn relatively straight, investing the show with a baddy who genuinely presents as both sinister and threatening. The singer croons and rasps his way through a number of nefarious solos, making for a suitably insidious foil to the lighter antics of Slack, Ryan, Doreen and co. Elsewhere, TV favourite Dr Ranj, and former popstar Suzanne Shaw (of HearSay fame) both offer up plenty of light, fun (if slightly more conventional) panto fare as the Spirit of the Bells and spritely love interest Alice, respectively.

Given the calibre of talent on stage, Dick Whittington could have been forgiven had it opted to rest on its laurels when it comes to spectacle and razzmatazz, but nothing could be further from the case, here. This is a grandiose, opulent and decadent slice of panto gold. Abigail Morgan’s costumes are a treat throughout, from a sweet shop chorus line bedecked with oversized Jammy Dodgers, to sparkling, rhinestoned buccaneers and shipmates, not to mention the explosion of camp and colour that are Felicity’s glorious adornments. The entire production is lavish and regularly show-stopping at practically every level, though, from an eye-watering Act II interlude from flame-flinging ‘Spark Fire Dance‘ (Dave Knox & Grace Billings), to set pieces such as a colossal King Rat animatronic that leers terrifyingly out over the audience early on, to an Act I closer that is as impressive and inspired as it is utterly insane.

‘Ninth time’s a charm’ would suggest that previous years’ pantomimes at the Hippodrome have somehow fallen short, or been works in progress, which is self-evident hogwash. What remains remarkable, though, is how every year, the standard of hilarity, energy and invention just seems to keep surpassing itself in jolly old Brum. There’s doubtless a kernel of magic and merit in the Hippodrome so wisely keeping hold of Slack, who is, pound for pound, likely the best panto performer currently out there, but the truth is there are glimmers of family-friendly magic and irresistible festivity in every nook, cranny, sequence and set piece of Dick Whittington.

It’s not only the best Dick you’ll find in Birmingham or beyond (itself no mean praise), but is, quite simply, the finest panto in all the land.

Long live Dick. And roll on the tenniversary next year, with the very welcome return of masterful Slack and his sack of magic beans…

Midway through the second Act of Wolverhampton Grand’s shiny new in-house production of Aladdin, former Eastenders star, Michael ‘Beppe’ Greco, is swung around in a harness above blasts of flame, as his villainous Abanazar croons at the edges of Robbie William’s ‘Let Me Entertain You’. It’s as bizarre – and nineties – as it sounds, and cements one clear train of thought.

We’re certainly back in panto land.

That Greco’s warbling and aerial hijinks sort of work anyway is, if anything, testimony to the crackerjack, madcap quality of the show that the Grand have put together in this, their own panto adventure (in association with Evolution Productions). It’s a slice of panto easily as funny, visually engaging and colourful as any of the former QDOS’ offerings that were, up until relatively recently, annual Christmas fixtures for the theatre.

Look, we’re not talking about the reinvention of the wheel, here. Although discussions continue to abound about the progression of the art form of pantomime, and its place amongst 21st Century sensibilities, for the most part this is hearty, traditional British panto fare, brought to the stage by a game and vibrant cast. Aladdin is a particularly juicy choice, with its dastardly sorcerers, high flying carpets and powerful genies – not to mention, in this version at least, a rather scene-stealing (if disappointingly underutilised) elephant.

“Ryan’s a tremendously safe and spontaneously funny pair of hands as the show’s de facto comic relief, and it isn’t at all difficult to see why was invited back…”

It certainly looks the part, but the real measure of any successful panto is in how much it gets at the funny bone, and it’s here that Wolverhampton have a particularly giggle-worthy pair of aces up their sleeves. Comedian Tam Ryan, fresh from an award-winning run in last year’s Cinderella, returns to Wolverhampton as the loveable Wishee Washee, here sporting a burgeoning career as a rap (or is that tortilla?) artist. Ryan’s a tremendously safe and spontaneously funny pair of hands as the show’s de facto comic relief, and it isn’t at all difficult to see why was invited back, as the show’s earliest casting announcement. He’s also buoyed by the ever-fabulous Ian Adams, another Grand returnee, who, bedecked in an increasingly zany wardrobe as Widow Twankey, remains, pound for pound, innuendo for innuendo, one of the finest working panto dames in the ‘biz.

There are plenty of fun and boisterous set pieces injected throughout Aladdin to keep audiences of all ages entertained and involved, from an early spot of sud-soaked slapstick in Twankey’s launderette, some spirited spars of oral gymnastics (…careful), and an entire number dedicated to the old ‘he’s behind you’ chestnut, which saw the entire auditorium screaming and shouting along. Will Brenton’s script includes plenty of pokes and jabs at popular culture and the wider world, including not one, but two, barbs aimed Liz Truss’ way and jabs at everything from Boy George in the I’m A Celeb jungle to, well, Boris Johnson’s hair (…it wouldn’t be Christmas without it now, let’s face it). And then there’s the compulsory romance blossoming, this time between titular rascal Aladdin (CBeebies’ Ben Cajee) and young Jasmine (Sofie Anné), who is here daughter of the town’s cynical yet amusingly bumbling Notary (Ian Billings). Duane Gooden pops up sporadically throughout the second Act for the odd bit of song and dance silliness as the Genie of the Lamp, presented here as a kind of CliffsNotes riff on the same character from Disney’s West End and Broadway show.

“Pop Idol contestant turned bonafide West End leading lady, Zoe Birkett, routinely threatens to carry away with the whole show…”

Everyone’s clearly giving it their all, and it is, crucially, a whole lot of fun. Sure, Cajee isn’t the most effortlessly naturalistic of leading men, and he’s completely out-sung by the talent around him, but it’s panto; those expecting Chekhov should probably check out. On the subject of music and singing, though, Pop Idol contestant turned bonafide West End leading lady, Zoe Birkett, routinely threatens to carry away with the whole show. From Arabia (in London’s Moulin Rouge) to Arabian Nights, her feisty yet kindly Spirit of the Ring is a bundle of fizz and Northern warmth, lighting up the stage whenever she appears, whilst positively tearing through some seriously demanding sings, including Wicked tentpole ‘Defying Gravity’. She’s regularly one of the best things about an already solid production, though it has to be said, newcomer Sofie Anné delivers some top notch vocals throughout, too.

Charting a new course for their yearly pantomime adventures, the Wolverhampton Grand have certainly hit the ground running with this vibrant treasure trove of family-friendly treats in Aladdin. In Adams, Birkett and Ryan in particular, they serve up some serious panto wattage to power the engine of all things funny and fabulous, and, as a spirited bundle of classic panto riches, Aladdin proves itself a very easy recommendation to grant all your feel-good wishes this Christmas and New Year.

In the grand scheme of things, it seems a tad tone-deaf to complain that one of the real woes of 2020 was its complete absence of anything approaching an annual Panto season. Nevertheless, it makes this year’s return to the season of dames, damsels and double entendres a doubly exciting foray for audiences at Wolverhampton’s Grand Theatre, with this also being the longstanding venue’s first in-house panto production – in conjunction with Imagine Theatre – in several years (having recently housed a string of QDOS offerings).

As a debut production and mission statement for Christmases yet to come, Cinderella rips up any hesitancy, doubt or tepid expectations and hurls them through its LED windows to present a dazzling, bombastic and frequently hilarious pantomime experience that is easily the equal of – and in some cases better than – its regional and West End peers.

The Grand and Imagine strike gold in realising the trifecta of a quality Panto being its cast, the laughs and the overall festive razzmatazz.

Bringing back one of the industry’s finest dames, Grand veteran Ian Adams – this time trotting out to the tune of Dame Penny Pockets – being the first coup. Adams is, pound for pound, one of the best Panto dames you can wish for, and he’s on top form once again here, from his trademark singalong (“he don’t care!”) to a suitably chaotic run on ‘The Twelve Days Of Christmas’, Adams proves once again a safe, funny and sarcastic presence throughout. He’s well-met by Tam Ryan as the loveable, bumbling Buttons, who ploughs through a carriage load of local quips and references (Tettenhall somehow seeming to come off both best and worst…) and proves himself a firm audience favourite with his jokey sidekick turn.

“Adams is, pound for pound, one of the best Panto dames you can wish for, and he’s on top form once again here.”

Speaking of local, Black Country born-and-bred Evie Pickerell, of CBeebies fame, is an engaging and likeable presence in the titular role, with some fun deadpan moments, dance sequences and a tune or two spicing up the normally bland and passive heroine. Elsewhere, Julie Stark, Ella Biddlecombe and Britt Lenting are all tremendous fun as the villainous Baroness Hardup and her terrible offspring, respectively. All three are in fine voice, Stark vamps up the show’s lead baddie with real relish and gusto, whilst Biddlecombe and Lenting are scene-stealing highlights; laugh-out-loud funny as they pick on unsuspecting members of the audience, and generally channel plenty of ‘Gen Z’ instagram, insta-fame obnoxiousness, whether strutting about on stage belting out The Eurythmics, or just generally being wickedly good fun.

Poster boys for Cinderella, Pritchard siblings AJ and Curtis strike suitably handsome and dashing presences on stage as Prince Charming and Dandini, with the former cutting a sharp rug throughout (though with admirably few Strictly references… although a glitter ball pun joke early on is particularly sharp), and Curtis displaying some unexpectedly impressive vocals in not one, but two, musical numbers. Whilst neither will likely be troubling the Oliviers any time soon, they are innately likeable and irrepressible, clearly game for a laugh, and pitch-perfect for these kind of dashing, occasionally self-deprecating, and frequently silly, roles.

“AJ and Curtis… are innately likeable, clearly game for a laugh, and pitch-perfect for these kind of dashing, occasionally self-deprecating, and frequently silly, roles.”

On the subject of funny, there’s plenty to laugh at here, with a surprisingly self-contained book that doesn’t oversaturate itself with intertextual and meta references, but is still positively stuffed with welcome staples (the old chocolate bar name number) and a heap of physical gags, set pieces and quintessential Panto tomfoolery. See, for instance: a double-barrel of fake leg and never-ending stocking silliness when the sisters attempt to try on the famous glass slipper.

With regards to its staging, Cinderella quite frankly knocks its predecessors out of the water, with designers Mark Walters, Nina Dunn and Jamie Corbidge crafting a visually stunning fairytale world on stage, namely courtesy of a series of enormous framing LED panels that beam transitions, effects and a myriad of storybook locales of a quality, scale and impact that wouldn’t seem out of place in London. The marriage of lighting, video and screens isn’t exactly new, even for Panto, but it is so colourfully, ambitously and seamlessly executed here that it truly elevates the production as a whole into something aesthetically splendid and, well, grand.

Ticking so many boxes, tickling plenty of funny bones, and with a game, likeable cast featuring some real Panto pros, there’s a lot to love here. Sure, some of it may be a touch familiar, but who would have it any other way? Technically and artistically, Cinderella works real theatre magic, and as a litmus test for Wolverhampton’s return foray into producing its own unique brand of pantomime magic, it passes with flying pumpkin colours.

Go to the ball at the Grand, and a ball you shall most certainly have.

A pair of balls…

It must be that time of year.

Welcome back.