25th July, Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh
I forgot my glasses, so I couldn’t see what was in front of me, never mind what was behind her, but as the set and costume changes were relatively simple, and I can (just about with my grasshopper mind) remember what Johnny McKnight looks like, I could follow this solo show half-blind. It helped that it started life as a Cameron lecture at the University of Glasgow, on the the history of the UK’s pantomime Dame. Despite the dazzling lights, the songs and some dancing, the excepts from McKnight’s pantos, audience participation and some dramatic, personal storytelling, this was still mostly an informative lecture.
One thing that surprised me was how harsh McKnight is on himself for things in his shows that could be perceived as racist, sexist or lacking audience consent. It’s far better to be too harsh, than so easy on yourself you end up a bitter old bigot with nothing but GBNews bookings in your diary – but still. There are plenty of dubious playwrights with dodgy lines to their name who haven’t so much as whispered any doubts about their work. It could be the lingering insecurity that his life as a dame helped him to overcome. Growing up in Ayrshire, joining theatre companies dominated by straight men, it took him a while to come out as gay. It took even longer to finally put gay romance into a panto aimed at a general audience.
This is where his early discomfort was probably an advantage (every cloud etc). Instead of hectoring or alienating the audience, his Dame brought them in, mirroring any potential obliviousness or awkwardness around the subject, making it safe for them to root for the lovers. It is after all, a Christmas show, and punching up at politicians, mildly mocking celebrities and making light of life’s miseries, is acceptable, making the audience feel unfestive, is not. It’s a great shame that the big commercial pantos aren’t more adventurous, stuck as they are with their warehouse costumes, sets and scripts, making only slight alterations for the actual venue they play. They lack the magic that McKnight can create with nothing but a hand-full of glitter and a face-full of slap.
It’s possible that an audience unfamiliar with his work, might become confused. There are a couple of places towards the middle where the show drags (in the other meaning of the word). If the drama had a stronger structure the grand finale would pack a bigger punch, it has shades of Everything’s Coming Up Roses, but doesn’t quite make that (albeit tragic) triumph over adversity. It is however, a timely call for new performers to break the old rules, and an unmissable, entertaining, blast of fabulousness from a threatre legend.
Catch it at the Edinburgh Festival throughout August 2025: tickets here.
Kay Marquis 