The Hackney panto’s USP is Clive Rowe: less a dame than a roiling force of nature, post pandemic he has not only starred in every panto at the Empire but directed them too, in what has increasingly felt like a one man (in a frock) show.
But what happens to the one-man show when the man (and his frock) aren’t there?
Rowe is such a panto purist that he refuses to perform in productions of Cinderella, reasoning that there is no dame role in it. So this year, he’s directing only. And it’s probably not a bad idea: the underlying fundamentals of this year’s panto are stronger than in recent years, where the secondary characters feel like they’ve been left to wither on the vine while Rowe swans off with the glory.
This show’s heart lies with its villains: Alexandra Waite-Roberts is the very definition of ‘pantomime villain’ as Oblivia, Cinderella’s cacklingly evil stepmother who in this version offed her stepdaughter’s dad years previously and barely makes any effort to conceal the fact. ‘Ugly sisters’ is a term that has fallen out of fashion in recent years, but in the roles that used to be called that, George Heyworth and Kat B are great fun as Nausea and Flatula, two women who aren’t so much evil as incredibly dumb. In the absence of Rowe, the audience work falls to them – they make a solid enough job of it – and they memorably join forces with Nicholas McLean’s prissy Buttons for a run through ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’ that lasts something like 10 minutes and heavily revolves around Heyworth and Kat B trying to get their co-star to corpse.
Some audience members will surely be taken aback when it dawns on them that they’re really going to do all 12 verses (let’s just say it’s soon apparent they’re in no hurry), but actually the wilfully slightly punishing rendition is about the most outré aspect of an otherwise slick, family friendly production. Siobhan James’s Cinders is wholesome and sweet but generally avoids coming across as a victim; Luke Latchman’s ultra laid-back Prince Charming is a nice take on the role; Jade Johnson’s boisterous Fairy Godmother is very charming. The flat sets from Cleo Pettitt are particularly lovely this year, twinkly and wintery.
It’s a very classy, very family-friendly panto and it deserves to do well. It’s certainly better all round than last year’s. But I suppose the question it comes back to is ‘what is the Hackney Empire without Clive Rowe?’ When it was directed by Rowe’s predecessor Susie McKenna, it had her spikey, political scripts to define it, and in years Rowe was absent the mighty Sharon D Clarke would often step in as headliner. This is a good pantomime but it lacks the mad invention, political bite and pop cultural nous of this year’s excellent Hammersmith and Stratford pantos. And to be honest that’s been the case since Rowe took over, it’s just that his nuclear-grade daming – from his insane outfits to lusty audience interactions to astonishing singing voice – is generally enough to compensate. Without him, it’s hard to see how Hackney has an edge over the edgier pantos.
Still, it probably will have him next year, and he seems to have learnt a thing or two about ensemble direction during his sabbatical from the stage. Expect Rowe to come back for the London panto throne in 2026 – in the meantime, this is a very pleasant couple of family-friendly festive hours at the theatre.
