Person: Tina Poole

Grimm Tales (2001)

A collection of traditional European folk tales are here given a new lease of life, stripping away much of the saccharine coating so many have accumulated through adaptation for children’s books, TV and film. Yes, we’re looking at you, Disney.

We’ve chosen nine tales all told, each with it’s own director and unique music composition, from one of three talented musicians, Pete Bird, Dominic Russell and Mark Taylor. See the programme for full details. The nine stories are;

Ashputtel

The Golden Goose

The Lady and the Lion

A Riddling Tale

The Hare and the Hedgehogs

Hansel and Gretel

Little Red Cap

Rumplestiltskin

The Magic Table

We like to finish our open air shows with a song, where we can. For this production, we’ve chosen ‘Who’s The Fool Now?’, an old song, first published in 1580 but most certainly far older than that. It doesn’t come from a Grimm tale, but it is a song about tall tales, and it’s also a drinking song, which given we’re sitting in a pub beer garden seems very appropriate. Join in the chorus if you fancy.

The Mummy – The Panto

A brand-new and original pantomime from the fevered imagination of Mark Taylor, who wrote the script, directed the show and the music as well as played piano and keyboards. That’s dedication. Or possibly he’s just a control freak. Either way, this unique tale follows the adventures of a daring expedition into Egypt, in search of the tomb of Imhotep, lost to history thousands of years ago. Professor Pottering and Rose Garden not only have the threat of the evil Ardet Bey to contend with, and the curse that surrounds the long-dead ancient Egyptian ruler, but Mrs Beryl Pie’n’mash, foisted upon them by the needs of a pantomime to contain at least one man dressed as a woman with no dress sense and make-up applied in the dark with a trowel. There is nothing like this Dame.

Brokers men Muk-Itup and Kok-itup are on hand to help carry out Ardet Bey’s malicious wishes, but incompetently, of course, and there’s a four piece band to accompany a dozen songs all hand-picked and adapted to amuse and entertain.

All in all, a trip to the sun-scorched desert by the banks of the Nile with Theatre Workshop Coulsdon is a great way to spend a cold December evening.

The Three Musketeers – Le Panteau

Our pantomime version of ‘Treasure Island’ was not only immense fun for us to do, but proved to be a big hit, not just here in Coulsdon but in the wider world of amateur theatre. In the two years since its publication, there have been over 60 productions of our tongue-in-cheek swashbuckling tale!

So, what better reason to give another classic story of adventure and derring-do the pantomime treatment. Like ‘Treasure Island’, ‘The Three Musketeers’ transcends age and generations, and has slipped across the border from literature into folklore. Written originally in 1844, there have been so many adaptations over the years, across so many media, that people who are perfectly familiar with the characters, the plot and the musketeers’ bold call to arms, have never read so much as a word of Alexandre Dumas’ original tale. Athos, Porthos, Aramis and D’Artagnan are no longer confined to the printed page, they are creatures of myth, with a life all their own.

So, our pantomime is not so much a spoof of the book, as a pastiche of the very idea of ‘The Three Musketeers’, only taking those parts of the plot and the characters that easily lend themselves to being funny. Yes, it does bear some resemblance to the original, but only very loosely (probably about as much as the usual Hollywood treatment). One very significant difference to most versions is that in ours, D’Artagnan and the other gallant comrades in arms are all played by women.

It’s our opinion that the female of the species can swashbuckle as well any male, but rarely are they given the chance. Well, here’s that chance, and alongside Dame D’Artagnan (the would-be musketeer’s aunt) and a pantomime snail (yes, really) they will fight for honour, justice and outright silliness, along with some excellent songs.

‘All for one, and one for all!’*

*For the record, Dumas may have used this as the Musketeers motto and made it famous, but guess who wrote it and used it first? Yep, William Shakespeare, in his narrative poem of 1594, ‘The Rape of Lucrece’. We’ll not be making a panto out of that.

The Merry Wives of Windsor

‘The Merry Wives of Windsor’ is one of Shakespeare’s more unusual comedies. No strange land for this one for a start. No far-flung Illyria, exotic Messina or Syracuse, but instead the action centres round The Garter Inn in Windsor. A real place no less, and one that stands to this day. Similarly, the Princes, Dukes and sundry other nobles that inhabit so many of his tales are notable by their complete absence, replaced by the title-less and newly prosperous middle classes. The only knight of the realm that features is the rascally, roguish Sir John Falstaff, a knave who sets out with poor intentions to fool the good wives of Windsor out of money, but fails spectacularly at every turn.

It is said that the character of Falstaff was one that Queen Elizabeth herself was most fond of. He appeared first in Henry IV Part One, and again in Henry IV Part Two, a portly, aging disreputable sot, too fond of his drink and of cheap women, forever lacking in funds. Quick to borrow, never to repay, and cowardly to boot, Falstaff does retain a certain charm and zest for life, and it’s this, for a time, that endears him to Prince Hal. However, when the prince becomes the King, all his former life is left behind, including Falstaff. In Henry V, Mistress Quickly delivers a eulogy outlining the circumstances of his death, and there, one might suppose, was the end of him. If a queen commands though, a humble playwright must write, and so, two years after his death, Sir John Falstaff lived again.

So ‘The Merry Wives…’ is what we would call today a ‘prequel’. Reunited with his low-life comrades, Pistol, Nym and Bardolph (the latter two also dying in Henry V, executed for looting), Falstaff unknowingly engages in a battle of wits with Mistress Page and Mistress Ford and finds himself distinctly unarmed, or at least badly under-gunned. Unlike the bittersweet nature of his antics in the histories though, these adventures are purely comedy, descending almost into farce. It dispenses with the oft-used conventions of romantic comedy, such as the mistaken identity, the flirtatious wordplay, the lovesick entanglements, and replaces them with Falstaff, the aging would-be suitor and lothario (supremely lacking in self-awareness) falling for the tricks being being played on him. In parallel, middle-aged, middle-class Francis Ford, consumed with ill-founded jealousy, repeatedly makes a fool of himself while attempting to prove, vainly, his wife an adulterer.

It’s funny, but this, undoubtedly the most original of Shakespeare’s works, drawing on no ancient text or foreign translation, is looked down upon by numerous scholars of the Bard. They seem to forget that the texts weren’t designed to be pored over, dissected and examined by fusty literary experts. It was created to have life on the stage, uproarious, physical life as popular entertainment.

And that is what you have before you. Enjoy.

Abigail’s Party

Somewhere on the London side of Essex, Beverley and Laurence Moss are holding a drinks party for their new neighbours, Angela Cooper and her husband Tony, who moved in just two weeks ago. They also invite divorcee Susan, whose 15-year-old daughter, Abigail, is holding her first teenage party next door.

Beverley, an ex-department store cosmetics demonstrator with a love of Demis Roussos records, desperately tries to impress her guests, forcing cigarettes and drink on them while continually clashing with her less flamboyant estate agent husband, Laurence. He’s in her bad books, arriving back home late from work, only just before the guests appeared. Laurence aspires to better things, even if he doesn’t quite understand them, and has decorated their house with Van Gogh and Lowry prints, as well as a leather bound collection of Shakespeare that’s there to be seen, not read.

Quietly spoken, verging on taciturn Tony, an ex-Crystal Palace football player, is in computing and his wife, the seemingly childlike and cheerfully tactless Angela, is a nurse. The house purchase has been a bit of stretch for them financially, and they’re feeling the pinch.

Sue is a longstanding resident, quiet, conventional and ill-at-ease, having misunderstood the invitation and not ‘dressed up’. Expecting food, she finds herself becoming more and more hungry as the evening progresses but tries to keep the hunger at bay by eating peanuts. The constant round of drink ‘top-ups’ is also making her feel unwell.

As the evening progresses and the drink flows, things become… interesting.

Mike Leigh’s play debuted in April 1977 at the Hampstead Theatre and was an instant success, spawning a revival that same summer which was a sell out. Quick to spot an easy win, the BBC filmed it in the autumn, and it was broadcast that November as a ‘Play for Today’.

A suburban situation comedy of manners, and a satire on the tastes of the the new middle classes of the 1970s, it evolved from a series of improvisations in which the actors played the characters but without knowing what events would take place while they did so. The various back stories were created by the original cast, drawing on their own experiences. For instance, John Salthouse, who played Tony, had been a professional footballer.

It has become something of a period piece, but is no less funny for all that.

The Fairy Godfather

In 1972, Francis Ford Coppola gave us the gangster epic ‘The Godfather’. Set in 1940’s New York, it centred on the criminal empire of the Corleone family, led by Marlon Brando’s iconic Don Corleone, and it single-handedly set the tone for American Mafia/Mob/Gangster movies to follow ever since. Nowhere did it say anything about pantomimes.

Richard Lloyd made us an offer we couldn’t refuse. He’d written a pantomime that less than delicately mashed up a bucket of well-used mafia gangster tropes, spread them over a comedy base, added some spicy panto sauce and served them up with side order of rollicking good songs, finishing with a rousing (everybody join in!) rendition of ‘That’s Amore!’. There are good fairies, evil villains, a dame and a gondola-full of Italian cheese gags. You just have to look at the cast list.

So we had to put it on. Really, we had to. And now you gotta to watch it, capisce?

Cut yourself in for a pizza the action tonight.

Twelfth Night (1999)

What is Twelfth night? Well, it is, traditionally, the last night of the twelve days of Christmas, and falls on either the 5th or 6th of January, depending on whether you start counting on Christmas Day or Boxing Day. A Christian festival, superstition has it that leaving your decorations up after the twelfth night is unlucky, and other customs surrounding the date include singing carols, eating cake and having your house blessed. None of which are remotely connected to Shakespeare’s play of the same name. The source of its naming remains a mystery, though some make tenuous links to the awarding of the title ‘Lord of Misrule’ and the wild abandon or ‘a world turned upside down’ which may possibly have formed part of the festivities on the day during Elizabethan times. However, that’s somewhat overselling the action contained within the play.

What we have is a resourceful heroine, Viola, who having been shipwrecked and washed up on the shores of an unknown land, adopts the masculine persona ‘Cesario’, to enhance her chances of survival. She falls into the employ of Orsino, the Duke of Illyria, who is hopelessly smitten with the Countess Olivia, a woman in mourning for her recently departed brother. Orsino uses Cesario as a go-between to advance his romantic case, but unfortunately Olivia falls for Cesario instead. Worse still, Viola has become infatuated with Orsino, but can’t do anything because she’s pretending to be a man.

Olivia’s household is a place overrun with guests and servants. The steward, Malvolio, is a pompous ass disliked by all. Sir Toby Belch, Olivia’s uncle seems to be a permanent resident, drinking and carousing with his frankly gormless associate Sir Andrew Aguecheek, and flirting with Maria, one of the sharper of Olivia’s housemaids. It is she who formulates a plan, with the two dissolute knights, to take Malvolio down a peg or two by persuading the steward that Olivia secretly loves him.

And into all this walks Sebastian, Viola’s identical twin brother. Thought drowned by his sister, he did in fact survive the shipwreck and is now endlessly confused by people referring to him, and more, as Cesario…

TWC have, somewhat inevitably, been forced to cut back some of the script. Feste, Olivia’s fool or jester, is mainly there to add even more of a comic touch to this already amusing situation. Sadly, what was undoubtedly hilarious to the groundlings in 1602 falls these days on ears that have no understanding of the references being used, and so much of his ‘stand-up routine’ has been excluded. We present ‘Twelfth Night’ as we guess it was intended to be played – an exhilarating and romantic romp, shot through with a vein of wistful lyricism, delivered with exuberance and delight. The alternative title for the play is ‘What you will’, seemingly indicating that Shakespeare was happy to leave the title to the preference of the audience. Whatever you call it, it remains one of his funniest romantic comedies. Enjoy.

The Little Shop Of Horrors

Back in 1960, director Roger Corman, ‘king’ of the low-budget movie, made a horror comedy film called ‘The Passionate People Eater’ on practically no budget, in very little time, using sets left over from a previous movie. Released in that same October under the new title of ‘The Little Shop of Horrors’, it slowly gained a cult following, and over twenty years later, in 1982, a musical version (with some significant changes to the story) opened off-off-Broadway, written by Howard Ashman and Alan Menken. It was successful enough to merit a transfer to the off-Broadway Orpheum Theatre in Manhattan’s East Village, and there it ran for five years, winning numerous awards and becoming the highest-grossing production in off-Broadway history. A transfer to Broadway was proposed, but writer Ashman declined, saying it belonged where it was. In much the same way that Mel Brooks’ ‘The Producers’ was first a film, then a stage musical, followed by film of the stage musical, so to did a film version of ‘The Little Shop of Horrors’ emerge, in 1986. Starring Rick Moranis as Seymour, this was anything but low-budget, costing US$25 million, with cameos from Steve Martin, Jim Belushi, Bill Murray and John Candy, and the voice of Audrey II being provided by Levi Stubbs, lead singer with 1960s and 70s Motown group, The Four Tops.

Theatre Workshop Coulsdon don’t have US$25 million to throw around, but we do have people with creative skills, buckets of talent, and lots of enthusiasm. We’ll not disappoint.

So, what’s it all about?

Well, down on Skid Row, in the crummy part of town, grumpy store-owner Mushnik runs a seedy, run-down florist’s, with two assistants, Seymour and Audrey. Seymour, orphaned and poor, with only the little money he gets from Mushnik, is secretly in love with pretty, blonde Audrey. However, not only does he lack the confidence to share his feelings, but she’s already got a boyfriend, the arrogant and sadistic Orin Scrivello, a leather-clad, motorcycle-riding dentist. One day, after a sudden eclipse, Seymour discovers a mysterious plant, looking a bit like a Venus Fly-Trap, which he names Audrey II. He tends it carefully, but despite his best ministrations, the plant is clearly ailing. Then, while working with some roses, Seymour pricks his finger on a thorn, and Audrey II eagerly laps up the drops of blood. This is what the mysterious plant thrives on…

Complete with four piece band, TWC’s ‘The Little Shop of Horrors’ gives you eighteen singalong numbers as the story charts the misadventures of Seymour, Audrey, and Mushnik and the murderous growth of Audrey II. It’s blooming marvellous!

The Christmas Curse Of Fu Manchu

Created by English author Sax Rohmer back in 1910, Doctor Fu Manchu can rightly lay claim to being one of earliest ‘Super-villains’, a man whose insidious plotting and scheming would, if not stopped by his heroic rival Denis Nayland Smith and his like, have brought down Western civilisation, and ensured the final victory of ‘The Yellow Peril’. Rohmer, whose real name was the somewhat more ordinary Arthur Ward, lived for a while just down the road, in a house called Little Gatton, on Gatton Road, Reigate.

However, he could not have guessed that one day his evil creation would sink to the level that Mark Taylor has devised in his latest pantomime adventure, with the eradication of every Santa Claus on the planet!

Fu Manchu will surely not have it all his own way. Not when faced with the might of Scotland Yard’s finest, Inspector Burke, with assistance from the uniformed (or is that uninformed?) branch in the shape of WPC Shapely, along with PC Manly and Sergeant Duffem. And then there’s Lavinia. Lavinia Smythe-Bottonne to those who know, Dame to you. If you take-away just the one thing about her, it’s that she’ll not stand for any oriental skulduggery. She might sit of course, if the seat is comfortable enough, but obviously not the ones in the hall that you’re sitting on.

(The Director would like to point out that no real Santa Clauses were harmed in the course of making of this pantomime, and that all Santas appear by kind permission of the REAL Father Christmas, who is, as we all know, busily preparing for Christmas in Lapland at this very moment.)