Christmas in Iceland - 15.12.1940, Blaðsíða 28

Christmas in Iceland - 15.12.1940, Blaðsíða 28
PANTOMIME What is Christmas without a pantomime? What indeed? And Iceland, not to be outdone, put on four, or was it five? Our special correspondent, who saw them all, is not quite sure, and his confusion is increased by the fact that he went to a party given by all the actors in all the pantomimes, after which he wrote his review. ALLADINDERELLA IN THE WOOD SOMEWHERE IN ICELAND A glittering galaxy of Iceland’s fairest and best gathered in the local picture house last night to see the first Pantomime in Iceland. And what a show! Full of music colour and light! Especially lights — lots and lots of them, going round and round. Most con- fusing. The first scene was the village green. (What village? Why, any village, fathead). Les Girls (sorry, Les Stulkas) fresh from their triumphs at the Borg, did their stuff for a few minutes, so that fourteen late arrivals could walk over my feet, and then came the Babes, most charmingly acted by the Twins from the Bookshop. Then, enter the Fairy Queen — G. S. 0. 3 (lb) — closely followed by the Demon King, to whom the A. P. M., assisted by a green spotlight, imparted a fiendish malevolence. A brief exchange of insults followed, in which the Demon King got considerably the worst of it, and then we were transported to a cave on Hofsjokull. Here we found Aladdin, the lad who could lay his finger on anything if only he went the right way about it. This was played by D. A. D. O. S., and all were agreed that the part was made for him. And old Widow Twankey what memories that called up! Davy Burnaby in ’36, the great Dan Leno in ’09 — would the new come up to the standard of the old? But all my doubts were swept away by the gale of laughter which rocked the roof on the intrance of C. S. M. McRoberts, clutching a bottle of brennivin in one hand and his skirts in the other, to the tune of ”Ye Banks and Braes of B. O. D.”. From then on my memory, which is not what it was, begins to fail me. I have brief impressions of high spots here and there — a wicked scene between Stefan Joh. Stefansson as the Bold Bad Baron, and the Sleeping Beauty, beautifully slept by the Chief of Po- lice; the sinister aloofness of the S. O. I.’s Djinn foiling the evil schemes of the Ugly Sisters (Lt. -Com.-Mowat, Lt.-Com. Clements and C. P. O. Matthews); the antics of the cow, a tricky problem in navigation ably sol- ved by a detail from the R. A. F.; and the rapturous delight of the audience when, to cover the sounds of the Artisan Works Coy R. E., who were shifting scenery, Widow Twankey persuaded them sing “I Belong to Glasgow”. Finally, a warm tribute must be paid to Les Stulkas, equally at home the palace Kitch- en or on the road to Hofsjogull, equally char- ming and acrobatic as Tyrolean peasants or as a pageant of the Nationsof the World. Oh, what beauty! Ah, what grace! Oh, my poor head! From a “Situations Vacant” Column: “General, experienced; semi-villa; electric washing machine; immersion heater; gas po-1 ker in public-room fire; no meals after 5,45; own bathroom, with electric heater; own wire- less; heater in bedroom; library subscription provided; paid holidays; liberal time off; good wages. What! No bbreakfast in bed? 36 CHRISTMAS IN ICELAND


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