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