We took our three-year-old to his first pantomime, but would he last the whole show?

There are certain British Christmas traditions I refuse to give up, however chaotic family life becomes. Lots of cheese, questionable Christmas jumpers and a good old-fashioned pantomime are firmly on that list. So, when I suggested taking three-year-old Cyrus to see Aladdin at Newcastle’s Tyne Theatre in December 2019, H looked at me as though I’d proposed something completely unreasonable.

“He’ll fall asleep halfway through,” was his prediction. He had a point. At three, Cyrus wasn’t too interested in sitting quietly for long periods, and taking him anywhere that required a ticket, a designated seat and a degree of patience was something of a gamble. Still, I was determined to give it a go. After all, Christmas without a pantomime hardly felt like Christmas.

Growing up in Britain, I loved pantomime. I remember being captivated by David Jason as Buttons in Cinderella, long before I knew him as Del Boy in Only Fools and Horses. The ridiculous costumes, the audience shouting and the exaggerated villains were all part of the fun. There was something wonderful about being allowed to make as much noise as possible in a theatre, particularly when most childhood outings involved being told to sit still and behave.

Now I was the parent doing the organising, packing snacks and wondering whether we’d make it through the performance without a tantrum. I hadn’t quite appreciated how much preparation was involved in recreating a childhood memory.

H predicted he’d be asleep halfway through. I’d packed snacks and prepared for an early exit.

The 2019 production of Aladdin, which ran until 5 January 2020, had everything you’d expect from a traditional Christmas pantomime. There were costumes, colourful sets, musical numbers, theatrical smoke and enough audience participation to keep even the most restless children interested.

Hannah Wales played Princess Jasmine, with Home and Away actor Nic Westaway taking on the role of Aladdin. David Easter, familiar to Hollyoaks viewers, was suitably unpleasant as the wicked Abanazar, while former X Factor runner-up Marcus Collins brought plenty of energy and some impressive dance moves to the Genie.

Naturally, Cyrus couldn’t have cared less about anyone’s TV credentials. He was far more interested in the costumes, the sudden bursts of music and the possibility that somebody might fall over. I spent much of the performance watching his reactions rather than the stage, especially when something unexpected happened.

Chris Casserly was a wonderfully outrageous Widow Twankey, appearing in a succession of extravagant outfits that made my own Christmas wardrobe look positively restrained. Pantomime Dames have never been known for subtlety, and Casserly certainly wasn’t about to start. Between the exaggerated expressions, loud costumes and cheeky exchanges with the audience, he kept the adults entertained while giving the children plenty to laugh about.

I found myself admiring the confidence required to appear on stage dressed like that. At my age, I occasionally wonder whether a brightly coloured gym top is a bit much. Widow Twankey, meanwhile, looked as though the entire Christmas decorations department had exploded around her. Perhaps I should take a few fashion lessons.

Charlie Richmond returned to Tyne Theatre for his 11th year, playing Aladdin’s rather hapless brother, Wishee Washee. His performance was full of Geordie humour, slapstick and the sort of exaggerated expressions that young children seem to understand immediately.

Cyrus, however, had his own interpretation of the character. As far as he was concerned, Wishee Washee was Mr Tumble. Once he’d made that connection, there was no persuading him otherwise.

Watching him trying to work out why someone who looked vaguely familiar was running around the stage causing trouble was almost as entertaining as the performance itself. Every time Richmond appeared, Cyrus seemed particularly pleased, as though he’d spotted an old friend.

The scenes involving Wishee Washee and Widow Twankey were among the funniest of the afternoon. There were laundry mishaps, monster encounters and plenty of audience interaction. The jokes weren’t particularly sophisticated, but that’s hardly the point of pantomime. Sometimes watching a grown man behave like an idiot is all the entertainment a three-year-old needs.

And, judging by the laughter around us, quite a few adults felt the same way.

For all the comedy, it was the visual effects that really captured Cyrus’s attention. The moment Aladdin and Jasmine took to the air on a magic carpet, accompanied by Take That’s Rule the World, was easily one of the highlights.

There was smoke, dramatic lighting and enough theatrical magic to make the whole thing feel rather special. I looked across at Cyrus, who was staring upwards, completely absorbed. For once, he wasn’t asking questions, fidgeting or wondering what was in the snack bag. He was just watching.

I could have explained that the carpet wasn’t actually flying, but why spoil it? At three, the world is still full of things that don’t need a sensible explanation.

The musical numbers were another success. Marcus Collins gave a lively performance to Bruno Mars’ Uptown Funk, complete with some impressive dancing. I may have joined in from my seat, although I suspect Cyrus was too busy watching the stage to notice his mum making a spectacle of herself.

There was also an amusing Home and Away sequence involving Aladdin, Jasmine and Wishee Washee, which gave the adults something extra to enjoy. It’s one of the things I like about pantomime. Children laugh at the slapstick, while parents pick up on the TV references and jokes that go straight over younger heads.

Pantomime has never been particularly concerned with good taste, and Aladdin was no exception. There were cheeky double meanings, the inevitable toilet jokes and several references to Brexit, which was dominating the news at the time.

One joke involving “salam, salam, false salam” added to the wordplay, while the more physical comedy had the younger audience in fits of laughter. Some jokes worked better than others, but the cast kept things moving quickly enough that nobody had much time to dwell on the occasional groaner.

I did find myself wincing at a few of the toilet jokes, although Cyrus clearly had no objections. At three, anything involving somebody falling over, making a ridiculous noise or behaving badly is apparently comedy gold.

What I particularly enjoyed was the atmosphere. Children were shouting at the stage, adults were laughing and nobody seemed terribly concerned about maintaining their dignity. In a world where parents spend an extraordinary amount of time reminding children to use their indoor voices, it was rather refreshing to find somewhere that actively encouraged the opposite.

This was the question I’d been asking myself before we arrived. Cyrus was three, and although he enjoyed stories, songs and children’s television, a live theatre performance was something quite different.

I had prepared for the possibility that we’d need to leave early. There were snacks in my bag, and I had already accepted that we might spend part of the afternoon wandering around the foyer if he became restless.

As it turned out, the production gave him plenty to concentrate on. The frequent changes in scenery, colourful costumes, music and audience participation meant there was rarely a dull moment. He particularly enjoyed the flying carpet and the scenes involving Wishee Washee, although I suspect the resemblance to Mr Tumble had something to do with that.

Taking a toddler to the theatre is still a different experience from going with another adult. You become conscious of every movement, whispered question and rustling sweet wrapper. You also spend a surprising amount of time checking whether they’re enjoying themselves, rather than simply watching the performance.

There were moments when Cyrus needed a little encouragement to settle, but nothing that spoiled the afternoon. He was far more interested in what was happening on stage than either of us had expected. Most importantly, he stayed awake.

I resisted the temptation to remind H of his earlier prediction. Well, for a few minutes.

Yes, although I think the afternoon taught me as much about my own expectations as it did about Cyrus’s ability to sit through a show.

I’d spent so much time wondering whether he would behave, become restless or fall asleep that I’d almost forgotten he might simply enjoy himself. He didn’t understand the adult jokes, recognise the TV actors or appreciate the effort that went into the production. He just liked the music, the silly characters and the flying carpet.

We don’t get out as a family as often as I’d like. Between work, everyday responsibilities and the effort involved in getting everyone organised, staying at home can seem considerably easier. But I’m glad we went. It was a chance to share something I loved as a child without worrying too much about whether Cyrus would experience it in quite the same way.

I went expecting to spend half the afternoon persuading him to sit still. Instead, I found myself watching a three-year-old become completely absorbed in a flying carpet and a man he was convinced was Mr Tumble. As for H, his prediction that Cyrus would be asleep halfway through proved entirely wrong. 

Did they love every minute, or did you spend most of the afternoon negotiating snacks, toilet breaks and an early exit? I’d love to hear how you got on.

Occasional stories, experiments, discoveries and questions from Saffron & Cyrus.