I indulged in my ultimate guilty pleasure at this wonderful Edinburgh destination
If you’re in need of some winter cheer, head here
The next chapter of winter is not for sissies.
For the last couple of months, it’s been cold season lite, with festive celebrations to distract us from the dank chill and SAD symptoms.
Here comes the harder bit. It’s just SO long until we can cast our itchy and restrictive clouts.
Thus, I suggest we drag out the fading tinselly-ness of early 2026 for as long as possible. We officially have 12 days of Christmas, which means the tree doesn’t have to come down until January 6. The party is not over until the drummers are drumming.
Anyway, the antidote to winter ennui at this time of year is not bongos, but a spot of panto. At the Festival Theatre, Jack and the Beanstalk runs until Sunday, January 11.
I used to be a bit of a snob about this type of show, but that was before I’d tried it. My first shot was as an adult, a few years ago, and the utter silliness totally won me over.
I was ordained, into the tongue twisters, rhymes, call and response, double entendres, booing and lip synching, and glitzy befeathered costumes that would put the Rio Carnival to shame. If a play is literature, then panto is a trashy Take a Break magazine, full of satisfying titbits. It requires zero attention span. My brain can go into standby mode to allow the glorious nonsense to wash over me like a fizzy bath bomb.
My favourite bit is always the dame, played by Allan Stewart, just because she’s so endearing, with the Victoriana grey wig and low slung boobs. The character reminds me that I had a strange crush on Dustin Hoffman as Tootsie, back in 1982.
The first time I went to the panto, which was at Edinburgh’s King’s Theatre, before it closed for the redevelopment work that will see it reopen in 2026, I took my nieces, who were then tots of five and seven. The eldest was totally mortified by the audience participation bit, when the cast pulled a big pair of underpants (planted, obviously) out of an old lady’s handbag.
That was ages ago, so our visit was well overdue, when I took my fam along to see Jack and the Beanstalk, which features Grant Stott, Jordan Young et al.
Sadly, I didn’t invite the eldest this time. At 14, she would probably rather pull off her acrylic nails by the roots than hang out with her family for an evening. Instead, she prefers to burn her Young Scot bus pass at both ends. I missed her though. If only we could have the little version back, for just a few hours, so she could have a break from being a teenager.
Still, the 12-year-old seems pretty excited, and I know the six-year-old will love this too. He is big on slapstick, football and fart jokes, of which there will undoubtedly be many.
In previous years, we have taken him to The Lyceum’s festive show, but there is always peril in the production. As a lockdown baby, the youngest in my family doesn’t deal well with baddies, especially pirates. Whenever we went to that annual show, he’d have his hands clamped over his eyes or ears for large segments. I think this is a safer choice. Or is it?
Anyway, at the panto, they’ve both still got their Christmas jumpers on.
My sister comes too. She’s in need of a few laughs. As always, I bring the Maltesers - in boxes, for that is the law, when in the theatre. I feel slightly guilty that I didn’t bring my sister one.
“We can share the kids’,” I say.
However, the contents are surreptitiously scoffed, unoffered and finished about four minutes after the curtain raises. Thankfully, my sister has secret Pringles and Percy Pigs.
The show is hilarious. I’m enraptured by Stewart as May McTrot. The nephew loves Jack, and we all boo at Fleshcreep, with his befeathered hat and emo eyeliner.
There are two women behind us who guffaw and howl at every scene. Normally, I would find that as irritating as the canned laughter on a Nineties sitcom, and wouldn’t be able to resist shooting them at a glance. However, at the panto, it’s somehow infectious.
There are lots of cultural references that the kids get, like the Jet2 jingle that went viral on TikTok, a Labubu reference and a Traitors skit. There’s also plenty that goes over their head, including an impression of Frank Spencer and a joke about a sore arm after a BCG, which I laugh heartily at.
The actual storyline isn’t important. Indeed, do not go if you’re expecting a narrative arc.
I have to say, Jack and the Beanstalk is the worst fairytale anyway. There is nobody to root for in the story, apart from the cow.
At least the theme is an excuse to unleash an amazing beanstalk, and for some fee-fi-fo-fum giant action, which is incredible. Afterwards, I try to explain how they made this creature, and where they store it, as if I am an ambassador for the show. It’s inflatable, we decide. Anyway, their appearance during the show is quite scary, so we all glance at the nephew on his booster seat, but he seems relatively unphased.
He is enjoying it too much. In fact, he is probably the loudest in the stalls to shout “Hiya, Jack”, whenever this character comes on and prompts us with a “Hiya, pals”. When we are showered with yellow and green beanstalk leaves, junior grabs one to take home as a souvenir.
We all leave with the glow that you can only get from a silly old panto.
Now I just have to eke out the feeling for as long as possible.
For tickets, see www.capitaltheatres.com
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