The Pantaloons: History of Britain

The Pantaloons stole my banana.

 

Not only that.  They stole it, peeled it, ate it and then taunted me.  "Go write about that on your blog" was the phrase he uttered as he strutted off, leaving me banana-less.

I think I got reverse heckled.  If there even is such a thing (mental note to check with my stand up comedy friends if reverse heckling actually exists).

As I write this, I am savaging a new, fresh, delicious banana in memory of the one I lost that fateful Sunday afternoon sat on the grassy slopes near the lake at Mt Ephraim, watching a performance of The History Of Britain (in 90 minutes), that, until that point I had been giggling like a school girl at.

So, Pantaloons, you challenged me to write about your theft on my blog, to show the whole world your food stealing ways?  Challenge accepted.

To be perfectly honest, it's not really that much of a challenge.  I have written about this little touring theatre company twice before.  The problem is, they are always fresh, always energetic, always vibrant, and always just so damn funny.

It's infuriating really; you just can't stay angry at them.  It's like trying to stay angry at a puppy that's pooped in your slipper and then gazes at you imploring (and disingenuously) with limpid eyes- it's not possible.  Especially when they offer the chance for a pre-show selfie.

I dragged Steve along to see them for the first time, and along with RV and Claire, Ellie and John, we set up an impromptu picnic on the field.

We managed picnic blankets and one chair that the boys fought over (Steve won - to be fair, it was his chair).   Other groups managed to appear far more stylish with mutliple chairs, tables (and a tablecloth - check out the far left group below) and even glasswear for champagne.  Show-off's.

Once settled, we prepared ourselves for a whistlestop tour through the entire History of Britain.  The Pantaloons launched a survey back in 2013 to see what type of shows their loyal band of followers would like to see performed, and this was the title that was voted most popular by a country mile (sidetracked thought, are country miles longer than city miles?  Is it just that the tractor in front of you the entire way and the smell of chicken manure makes it feel longer?)

Back on track.  This then presented The Pantaloons with a bit of a dilemma, well, more of a challenge really.  It's all well and good having a title that appeals to the masses, but you can't run for 90 minutes on just a title - people are liable to get bored.  You need a show there as well.  Trouble is, unlike their previous works which have all been adapted from pre-existing bodies of works (literary classics like Sherlock and Grimm, well known plays like Dream) this didn't really have a text already handily lying there screaming for use.  Unless you count people's A-Level History books.

There's another dilemma as well.   History is all a bit dry really - a series of dates and battles and kings and queens in slow succession.  The Pantaloons needed to get to the humanity behind the history, the stories and tales that have since become folklore and legend, nursery rhymes and parables.

Well, they succeeded, and we were treated to A History of Britain that told the stories behind the facts, that paid respect to the tragedy that plagued our emerald isle and mocked the stupidity in peoples actions (a crown does not equate to intelligence.  I think it's the weight - it makes the brains dribble out of the ears).

As with all Pantaloons material, we were also treated to a huge variety of different styles and performance techniques, with a fair bit of ad-libbing thrown in for good measure!  This was the History of Britain like it had never been seen before - it was a bit like a cross between Blackadder and Horrible Histories meets a pantomime cabaret.

So, we started in pre-historic times, and in the space of 3 minutes had seen the discovery of fire, invasion of the Romans, invasion of the Vikings, invasion of the Normans and the fall of Henry at the Battle of Hastings.  3 minutes in and we were already at 1066.  Impressive.

We then slowed down(!) a little with a re-telling of Shakespeare's Richard III in 15 minutes, complete with a non-sword battle as Kelly (The Red Loon) had hurt her hand a couple of days previously.   I mention this as it gives you an idea of the style of The Pantaloons, when, mid yell, they both turn to the audience and explain that no actual fighting would be happening that day before launching straight back into character.

Following on from the Richard III in 15 minutes sketch, we then launched into a romantic comedy version of Henry VIII as he recounts his various marital wows to his best friend (whom he only sees to moan about the latest wife) and the revolving door of his wives as Kelly and Alex jumped nimbly through each of the various women's characters.

From the comedy of Henry VIII (it's not often you get to describe him as a comedy), we tackled the dissolution of the monastries, complete with aged, half deaf nuns before moving into a sombre puppetry show about the tragedy of Lady Jane Grey, the 9 Day Queen who had been manipulated by everyone around her, paying the price for their greed with her life at just 17 years of age.  This moving material just proved how capable this troop are as virtuoso performers and the change of pace was welcome.

From Lady Jane Grey we catapaulted into The Virgin Queen and the Spanish Armada, handled, (obviously!) as a Gilbert and Sullivan pastiche.

This whole section can only be described as right, rollocking fun, complete with songs, dance and some truly awful accents!

With the successful defeat of the Armada (woo-hoo!) it was time for a break to let The Pantaloons refuel, and the audience debate the long climb up the hill to the toilets.

When we came back, we were flung straight into Guy Fawkes and the Gunpowder plot, with the old nursery rhyme being chanted softly and eerily in the background.

Remember, remember the 5th of Novemeber

Gunpowder, treason and plot

I see no reason why gunpowder treason

Should ever be forgot

Guy Fawkes is a strange character in British history.  Utterly villified for attempting to blow up the Houses of Parliament and King James I in 1605 to replace him with a Catholic king, his actions soon became an excuse for anti-Catholic activities and soon the figures that were burnt on the bonfires were no longer just effegies of Guy Fawkes, but also of other popular hate figures, such as the Pope.  Guy Fawkes is likely to be the only name that people remember of the 12 men involved in the plot, despite the fact that he wasn't their leader.  Nowadays, Bonfire Night is just an excuse for a big celebration and party - any real religious or political overtones have long since faded into history.  The Pantaloons handled this popular story from our past in an incredibly creepy way, masking Guy Fawkes into an anonymous, emotionless figure.

Moving on, we got into the English Civil War, which was re-enacted by an insult hurling match between the Roundheads and the Cavaliers (i.e.the two halves of the audience), led by audience members dragged up by The Pantaloons to represent Oliver Cromwell and King Charles I.  These audience members were put on the spot to come up with the worst possible insults they could think of, which the audience then yelled on their behalf. 

After a brief spate of more food stealing by The Pantaloons (they are terrible for it) whilst covering something to do with the wool industry (I'll be honest - I can't remember what they were talking about, I was too tranfixed on the fact that more food was being pinched, and licked by Alex!)

By now we were tickling the edges of what could be called modern history (i.e the last 300 years or so).  We started to look at the creation and expansion of the British Empire (which saw a lot of sea travel - guess how that was represented!)

Followed by the Crimean War and Florence Nightingale, the Lady With The Lamp.

We were starting to get closer to a period of history that I was quite intrigued to see how they would cover, but before then we got the Victorian Era in the style of an old Music Hall show, compared by Queen Vic herself.  She was not amused.   There was also The Suffragettes and the battle for floats for swimming.  I'm sure someone, somewhere missed the memo about that particular campaign.  All the girls in the audience did get a running Hi Five from the 'Loons though during that particular sketch.  Charles Darwin even made a brief cameo appearance!

We neared the end of the show as the 'Loons tackled a particularly difficult and sensitive subject; that of World War I.  They really surprised me on this by reciting and contrasting poems of the era that called the men to arms and service, and also described the pure horror and tragedy of that event.  It was incredibly touching and moving, and very, very effective.

After that sobering subject, we needed a bit of lift and finished the performance in pure Pantaloons style, with a sing and a dance!

As always, an afternoon of pure, unadulterated pleasure courtesy of this ingenious troop.  Please, please go and check out this company and see if they are performing near you - if they are, go and see them.

Kelly, Edward, Alex and Chris, it's been a pleasure as always

I'll even forgive you for that banana.

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Wise Words: Stories from the Stour

For anyone with an interest in storytelling, fable, myth and fairytale (i.e, me) , the idea of 5 spirits, 4 tales, 3 saucepans, 2 wizards and 1 performance was just too enticing to miss.

Stories from the Stour is a concept imagined by students from the University of Kent.  The founders of the Can On A String Theatre Company, Camilla Churchill, Gersom de Konig and Ben Williams, all specialise in Applied Theatre, working with young people to create something original and perform it.

Camilla, a 4th year student told me that they had been approached by the Wise Words Festival earlier in the year.  They had been working with Year 7 and 8 pupils from Canterbury High School and students from a variety of year groups at the Spires Academy and embarked on a specific project with the children from both schools for the Wise Words Festival through the idea of creating new stories, all inspired by the local environment.  The students have been involved in all areas of Stories from the Stour, right from the start in January, devising the stories and scripts, creating the costumes and props, making the films and the voice overs, including the makeup and the music.  Camilla stressed how amazing it was to watch the children grow and develop and today they will be performing their stories for the first time to their families, friends and members of the general public.

The stories are told in and around the Greyfriars Chapel and gardens.  Visitors queue outdoors in the light dappled meadow as the river ripples its burbling melody back at the chattering birdsong. We are a stone's throw from the bustling high street but you would not realise it from where we stand in the same spot where a chapel has stood since the C13. 

The gardens themselves are straight out of Wonderland.  Lampshades perch in the branches of the old trees like oversized blossom whilst in amongst the roots and moss everything you could need for a tea party is laid out.  A lot of this was for The Tempest which would be performed that evening in the gardens, a treat that unfortunately I was not able to get to.  Considering the fairytales we were about to experience, the gardens looked perfect.

I meet Sinead from The Demon Gin, a fellow thespian and blogger who is also covering the festival.  Go have a look when you finish up here, I highly recommend her!

In groups of 10 we are ushered by our sprite-like guides into a world of wonder.  They promise us magic and whimsy in the time ahead.

We creep down the dim hallway in the Chapel into the old prison.  You can see the river rushing below our feet through the cracks in the weathered floor boards.   It is very dark save for the luminescent sunlight that slips in through open doors and cracked windows.

A young man stands in the corner and is silent apart from the odd command for people to move round, move closer, fill the space.  When all are in their places he leans forward and taps a projector.  A film starts to play on the ancient brickwork.  A child's voice speaks out over the crackling sepia recording, describing a fabled amusement park where children enter but never return.  The grinning visage of the masked owner leers down on us as strains of This is Halloween from The Nightmare Before Christmas play disconcertingly through the air and shadow puppetry casts a supernatural veil over the children.  He laughs manically as they warn us not to enter the fair lest the spirit of the ringmaster gets you and the projector creaks to a halt.

Sometimes you are struck by just how vivid a child's imagination can truly be.  This is one of those times; this film spoke of fears that lurked beneath the surface, of worries of being abandoned and forgotten, of being cast out or lost and never able to find your way home.  It's a fear that has echoed down through the centuries as adults warned children of fey folk and their changelings, of not leaving the forest path, of spurning fairy food, of consuming 6 pomegranate seeds and being trapped for all time. The children ignore the warnings of the adults and stay too long on Pleasure Island, metamorphosing into braying asses to work for the cruel ringmaster for eternity as Pinocchio runs in terror.  This was another spin on an ancient tale and one that carried a lesson underneath as clear as Aesop's.  Don't talk to strangers, don't accept gifts from people you don't know. 

We move on, unsure whether or not we are to speak, and in single file ascend the stairs to the ancient chapel room.  Here we are ushered into pews whilst the guide asks for volunteers.  They are selected and moved to one side of the chapel to stand behind empty frames and instructed to adorn themselves with boas and flat caps.

We watch the children act out a scene where they leave to go on holiday with their father.  One child is left behind.  He turns on a tap and gets distracted.  The room floods and the child drowns.  Upon the families return from their holiday they are haunted by the child's ghost who has merged with that of an ancient wizard.  He bangs the saucepans, scares the children and eventually drives them from their home.  This again spoke of children's fears of being abandoned, forgotten about and left behind.  If Kevin had not fought the invaders with paint cans flung from banisters and shattered ornaments, would he have been fated to haunt his family? 

We move from the Chapel into the bright mid-afternoon sunshine filling the small garden.  A small boy in a sou'wester jacket lies sleeping in his camping chair, a fishing line propped by his side.  He wakes and tests his line, pulling the same fish three times from the water.  His comic frustrations grow until eventually a cloaked wizard hears him and offers his assistance.   He casts a charm on the water but the spell fails.  As a last resort he makes the fisherman drink some blue potion.  This has the desired effect and the next fish that is pulled from the water is significantly larger.  The fisherman grows greedy and fights the magician for the potion, stealing it and running away.  The audience are encouraged to follow him and he runs towards to the next short story.

2 reporters tell us that on a certain day, at a certain time, the spirits of the garden can be seen and we can hear their stories.   We move with them around the lawns, listening to the spirits' tales one at a time.

There is the spirit of the tree and his companion, the spirit of midsummer.  They whisper and wail of their time in the garden and the outside world, of what they once were and what they will be. 

There is a small, vindictive little spirit who will bite your ankles and trip you up, you may have met him on the curbs of streets, on pavements where you blamed your turned ankle on uneven paving, on roads slick with ice in the dead of winter. 

Finally, a cursed spirit who can no longer speak is standing trapped on his plinth.  He was a moving statue who was punished for a misdemeanor.  All he can do is bumble and burble, shaking his head and his cane in despair as his sock puppet familiar deliberately misleads us with regards to his intentions, mistranslating his incomprehensible words.

The spirits fade into the background as the reporters note that the time has passed on this enchanted hour and the magic is gone from the garden.  We are left alone at the end of the tour, to contemplate the stories and see the pride on faces of parents at what their children's imagination has accomplished with 5 spirits, 4 tales, 3 saucepans, 2 wizards and 1 performance.


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