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I am writing this in February, but when you read it, hopefully, the pantomime season will, at last, have ended. You might detect in that remark that I am not totally enthusiastic about our Great British Pantomime Tradition. There is something make-shift about it all, despite the glitter and silly costumes; something strung together from a ragbag of music hall, fairy tales, Commedia del Arte, rude farce and famous faces.

Now, before the shouts of spoilsport and toffee nose echo across the region, I must emphasise that I do recognise how important pantomime is when theatres are totting up the budget. Most of our East Anglian venues rely very heavily on panto takings to keep the rest of the year’s programme afloat. An audience survey by Mori in 1997 showed that 58% of pantomime audiences were not regular theatregoers and that of that 58%, 26% only went to the Christmas panto as a treat for the children and very rarely, or never, went to live theatre. What does all this prove? Some might say it’s the dumbing-down problem; shove a few well known soap stars together, dig out a familiar fairy tale, chuck in a TV celebrity cook or gardener, season with a pop star and make sure the writer keeps the banter topical. How many Viagra jokes did you hear this year? Others might say it’s traditional entertainment for the whole family, harmless fun with a sprinkle of sentiment and danger, but always a happy ending.

What about amateur pantomime? Most of those lucky few who run their own venues have to emulate the professionals and do the traditional thing because it’s expected, it gives lots of members a chance to contribute and it makes money. Amateur companies who have to hire their venues are often competing with the professional companies and the certainty of a big box office return is not so certain. Then there are the village pantos! I have sat through some desperately under-rehearsed shows where the customers got more fun out of the mistakes and the sight of local characters doing uncharacteristic things than they did out of the storyline. I have also seen some ingenious productions were local skills created magical moments with the minimum of resources and the available talent was well disciplined and directed. I shall never forget a local group who worked on a tiny stage with only eight feet of headroom, yet produced a massive talon from the flies to carry off Sinbad who, in a blackout, became a tiny silhouette whizzing across the backdrop in the clutch of a large bird. Magic.

So if you thought I was going to rubbish panto, I’m not. But I do have reservations about what most of it has become: a tired, often over bawdy script, relying on TV celebrities, a minimal number of musicians, skimpily clad chorus girls and an unknown comedian to keep the whole thing together. The great stars of panto – Arthur Askey, Roy Hudd, Ronnie Corbett, Danny LaRue – all keep to the tradition of innocence where no doubt entendre was intended, but still got the laughs. This is what pantomime is about and what you more often find in amateur productions; good defeats bad and innocence prevails. I do find in the orchestrated vocal anarchy uncomfortable. It is usually encouraged by the Dame or the comic who is always willing to surrender his love for the leading lady so the Prince can marry her! When the “He’s behind you!” or the “Oh yes he is” “Oh no he isn’t” routine begins, I tend to read the programme. I like fairy tales. They are ingenious parables which can teach valuable lessons about relationships. If you only drag children once a year into the theatre, at least make it a profitable one. Make sure the panto is for them and that the experience will make them want to revisit something else after Christmas.