Nearly but not quite...

I must have watched the Christmas pantomime at the Manoel Theatre every year for the past 10 years or so. I consider it the measure by which all other local performances must be judged, not necessarily because it is the best production, but because it is the production with the longest run, the biggest budget, proper custom-made costumes, a script written locally and an audience of sitting ducks. In short, it is a showcase for local mainstream theatre performers. Here is where a director can show his ability to control a large cast, a local writer can showcase a talent for comic ability, new performers can shine and costume designers can make a name for themselves.

Since all other productions generally barely break even and have no budget to speak of, the Christmas pantomime is to the local theatre scene what the Eurovision Song Contest has, unfortunately, become to the local music scene. Money is not the only thing the two productions have in common, a marked lapse in good taste is probably one of the more striking similarities.

I have been an avid theatre-goer all my adult life. Most of the performances I have watched away from home have been of the professional kind and I always thought it unfair to compare local amateur performances with London's West End, for example. Because, while the theatre building may be a national treasure, our top performers barely get enough money to cover lunch and petrol, and rehearsals have to be fitted in at the end of a working day.

I remember being repeatedly told that "amateur" meant simply that the cast and crew did not perform for a living but I must admit that I believed local theatre to be lesser than that, until I saw my first proper amateur performance in an art house in Cardiff a couple of years ago. I nearly died. It was an Ayckbourn play called Communicating Doors and it was simply atrocious.

The pace was meant to be light and brisk, as befits an entertaining farce which depends on quick ripostes, but rapid timing remained a partly-formed idea in the director's head. There were so many unnecessary pauses that if the air had been drained out of the silences, Richard Branson would have crossed the globe in a hot air balloon at the first attempt. The blocking felt like it had been plotted by a faulty GPS system, with the actors moving about on stage for no apparent reason other than to stretch their legs and show off their great-great-great-grandmother/father's clothes.

But what I remember most is the mini-revolve used to stage the communicating doors of the title. I have yet to see more painful technical work, although I may just have to revise that statement in the light of the technical problems with this year's pantomime.

I believe I attempted a couple of other amateur performance in the UK once the memory of that first agonising night out at local theatre had abated. None of them were any better and I came to realise that Maltese theatre may be amateur but it is bloody good theatre, and much closer to the professional end of the scale than I would have imagined, knowing as I do the constraints within which local artistes have to work. It is in fact rather curious to observe the paradoxical imperatives we live by. We may privately think that local theatre does not quite cut it but we refuse to budget properly for culture or accept some serious criticism of the local scene.

If I had to limit my criticism to just one short sentence, I would say that a lack of professional discipline and an anything-goes mentality was ruining the MADC pantomime. The talent is definitely there, at least in the acting and singing department. This year there were only one or two rogue acting performances and the singing seemed to be uniformly exceptional despite the fact that the sound man took at least one day off on December 28. The problems I could see were in fact mainly technical. The sound was definitely the most offensive, with singers fading in and out, at times opening and closing their mouths like fish, and the level of feedback making everyone wince.

The script needed to be tighter and more even. There were unnecessary tab scenes and patchy on-stage costume changes which detracted from the suspension of disbelief, so necessary for the children in the audience. I thought the "adult" jokes were quite toned down this year which was a huge improvement. The dances were haphazard as always, which is where I was disappointed with the casting, because this is a show for all-rounders and not simply amazing singers and actors. The choreography played to the ability of the dancers, which means it was basic and uninspired. The chorus were generally good, and even better use of them was made than usual, but they simply need more energy to carry the show. The mains were brilliant and it was refreshing to see a new dame and an old one in a different role.

This piece may be painfully critical but I bothered to write it only because I enjoyed myself tremendously and find it a great pity that an otherwise brilliant evening could be so marred by the lack of attention to detail. Three-and-a-half hours may be too long for some but they flew by for me. I love what we have made of what is essentially a British tradition but I am still looking forward to the point when I can watch a pantomime production without having to make a concerted effort not to squirm in my seat.