Slapstick is alive and well at our own Laughter Factory

Charlie Chuckle’s Laughter Factory, with its cast of 53 players and supporting acts and chorus lines assisted by a vast backstage crew the size of which is out of all proportion to the production, hits the boards again the week after next. Performances are somewhat sporadic and unpredictable, usually fortnightly, but with a tendency to run over into the following weeks.

Scheduled to last a single day, the performances can in fact vary from anything up to four days or more.

Unlike traditional pantos, these performances are aimed at an adult audience and there are very few laughs, no slapstick or singing, and certainly not any slapping of thighs clad in brightly coloured tights, cross-dressing and sexual innuendo – well, not in the gaze of the public gallery, that is.

However, there are plenty of in-jokes, storylines which are frequently repeated regardless of whether the public is interested or not, and regular occurances of buffoonery, usually unintentional.

Audience participation is permitted only when the Laughter Factory hits the election trail, when calls from the audience of ‘Oh no it isn’t!’ are frequently heard in response to a candidate’s claims.

As with festive pantomimes, the local political version follows a number of recurring traditional storylines interspersed with one-off productions.

There are also well-defined conventions, such as the curtain-raiser roll call and the mumbling of a prayer in French. Each sitting begins with a warm-up comprising individual stand-up acts asking questions, although this rarely raises any laughs and is guaranteed to put off the small audience who gather in the gods to scowl down on those in the cheap seats.

The programme from this month to Easter contains a number of old favourites likely to attract the headlines and grab the public’s attention.

In Beauty Spot and the Beast, the location may vary but the plot remains the same: a lone States Member takes the principal role as he or she attempts to persuade their peers to delve deep in the Island’s coffers to save a local beauty spot from the clutches of a big, bad developer by acquiring it for the public’s enjoyment.

This is due to be performed soon, with the focus yet again on the long-running saga of what should or should not happen to the former holiday camp site at Plémont.

The retelling of the tale of Dick Whittington is currently on hold, as the principal boy, Senator Stuart Syvret, really has run off to London – though not to find the Island’s fortune. He is seeking sanctuary from the wicked Crown Officers and judicial system he perceives as being out to get him.

Whether he will find the capital’s streets to be paved with gold is open to conjecture, while the odds on his becoming the next Lord Mayor are given by Honest Nev as 50,000,000,000-1.

In his absence, the Council of Ministers are seeking other locations where Jersey could make a buck or two. India and China are top of the list, proving that the Chuckle Brothers will do anything for, and go anywhere to get, a laugh.

Rumour has it that a new production combining Aladdin and Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves is in the offing once the genie can be persuaded to pop out of the lamp.

The States’ version of Little Red Riding Hood is a tale starring the gang of four elected members of the People’s Popular Front of St Helier (aka the Jersey Democratic Alliance) as they seek social justice in their battle as the champions of the downtrodden and exploited masses against the big bad wolves of the establishment clique.

Goldilocks and the Scrutiny Bears is the umbrella title for a series of individual productions including Energy-From-Waste Plant and Ramsar, Sea Fisheries Bag Limits and Prison Board of Visitors. These fringe productions appeal to a minority audience and are never performed in the main chamber, but are held in small side theatres or as roving productions around the Island, and occasionally in the UK and further afield, depending on the storyline.

One of the most popular stories of recent times is Cinders and the Incinerator. Following an Islandwide tour five years ago, it has been performed many times in the House with variations of the core theme.

The current production is in its final run and the plot goes along these lines: the good burghers of Bellozanne have finally won the day as the Island’s new and expensive incinerator rises from the ashes of La Collette to dominate the seascape of the south coast for generations to come. Now all they need to do is find a Prince Charming, willing to take up the fight to relocate the sewage works and we have a whole new script for Beauty Spot and the Beast.

The Snow Queen is an all-Island production. More akin to the disaster movie genre, it involves society grinding to a halt as the fabric of everyday life falls apart at the appearance of a single snowflake.

The powers that really should not be adopt the usual knee-jerk reaction to ice and snow by closing schools, warning motorists not to drive unless it is essential and stopping public transport in its tracks.

Notwithstanding the obvious comparisons to the traditions of pantomime, the collection of beloved politicians who govern our little rock have more in common with the delightful classic BBC sitcom Dad’s Army – a well-intentioned but sometimes bumbling gaggle of individuals willing to do their bit to keep us all safe and sound against the bully boys from the outside world.

As Corporal Jones said on many occasions: ‘Don’t panic!’