The Romans in Aladdin
WRITER and American PRODUCER discuss the script of a new pantomime.
WRITER: …and at this point, you see, I thought we could have a pie-throwing session with Widow Twankey – that’s Ronnie, of course – actually rolling pastry in the middle of it all and not getting hit by a single one.
PRODUCER: Yeah?
WRITER: Yes, you see, I think it could be terribly funny, all these custard pies flying about and this silly old bat carrying on as if nothing was happening.
PRODUCER: If you say so, Ray.
WRITER: And then after that we move into a duet between Abanazar and Widow Twankey when he’s trying to get round her and –
PRODUCER: When do the Romans come on and start buggering people?
WRITER: I’m sorry?
PRODUCER: I know, you’re saving that for the first-half closer, right, Ray?
WRITER: Er, no. Widow Twankey and Abanazar just do this sort of dance together and then I thought it would be rather nice if –
PRODUCER: He buggers her? Yes, I like that.
WRITER: No…
PRODUCER: She buggers him? Tricky…
WRITER: No, he gives her a rose.
PRODUCER: A what?
WRITER: As a sort of token of his, um, esteem… I thought it would be rather poignant –
PRODUCER: That’s what the Romans did, is it, Ray? Before they buggered people?
WRITER: Well, I wouldn’t put it quite like –
PRODUCER: Didn’t you go into the sociological aspect, Ray?
WRITER: Look, what’s all this about Romans? I’m just telling you they do this stupid dance together and –
PRODUCER: Just a second, Ray. You have written some Romans into the script haven’t you?
WRITER: Well no, I mean –
PRODUCER: What, none at all?
WRITER: No, well, we are meant to be in Medieval China after all.
PRODUCER: So where’s artistic licence, Ray? Where’s poetic truth? This is showbiz we’re talking.
WRITER: Yes, but I hardly think a children’s pantomime is quite the place for –
PRODUCER: Look, Ray, this isn’t going to be just another pantomime, okay? I mean, we want to break new ground here, right? We’re going for a totally new art form.
WRITER: But you can’t have a bunch of Romans coming on out of the blue and indulging in degrading sexual practices in a children’s pantomime for god’s sake –
PRODUCER: You got something against homosexuality, Ray?
WRITER: Of course not, some of my best friends –
PRODUCER: Because I wouldn’t want to be hiring a bigot you know.
WRITER: Look, there’s nothing about Romans buggering people in Aladdin.
PRODUCER: You sure?
WRITER: I’ve researched this one thoroughly.
PRODUCER: They don’t have to be Romans. You could make them Vikings.
WRITER: No Vikings.
PRODUCER: How about Australians? These Australians ride in on a load of sheep –
WRITER: No, look, I’m sorry, but if you want to just wallow in gratuitous exhibitionism I’m afraid you’ll have to do it without me. I quit.
PRODUCER: They only have to pretend you know, Ray. (CALLING AFTER HIM) They don’t even have to be real stiffies, they can hold their thumbs… (BUT THE WRITER HAS GONE. PRODUCER CALLS INTO THE WINGS THE OTHER SIDE) Get Dennis Potter on the line.
ASSISTANT: Yes, Mr Guccione.
PS
Ooh. Satire.
In the early 80s there was a whole hoo-hah over Howard Brenton’s play at the National, The Romans in Britain. It depicted in unflinching terms the brutal invasion of Celtic Britain by the Romans in the first century BC, and was full of violence, nudity and homosexual rape. I believe it was meant to be drawing a parallel with the English in Ireland or something - some sort of critique of imperialism anyway. Clean-up TV campaigner (‘pain’ is right) Mary Whitehouse brought a private prosecution against the play’s director for obscenity. Apparently the case collapsed when one of the plaintiff’s key witnesses admitted he couldn’t be sure whether the thing he saw sticking out of an actor’s hand was his (the actor’s) thumb or his penis.
What a load of bollocks (as it were), and as usual only the lawyers got rich. So I wrote this. It may not be funny, but at least it makes its point.
Bob Guccione, whose name provides the punchline, was the founder of Penthouse magazine and produced the notoriously sleazy big-screen movie Caligula. (One still recalls the Not the Nine o’Clock News joke that John Gielgud didn’t realise there was going to be quite so much nudity in it when he read the original pay cheque.) Dennis Potter, the TV playwright, had also suffered from busybody censorship over his 1976 TV play Brimstone and Treacle. Anything can, and should, be the subject of art, but what you show should always be subordinated to how you show it, and both should depend on why you feel the need to show it at all. Michael Bogdanov did not put on Howard Brenton’s play just because he thought it would be a laugh to fill the stage with blood and private parts. That was just the means, the method, not the matter.
On the other hand, I don’t believe the right to free speech should be infinite. There is such a thing as taste and decorum, though it has, I think, a lot more to do with decency and respect for others than it does with personal feelings or politics. As for the modern trendy view that there should be nothing you can’t make a joke about so long as you make it clear what you’re laughing at, I think this makes things too easy for the comedian. “Oh, you’re only objecting to that because you’re easily offended.” No, when your constant defence is that the subject of the joke is not necessarily the target of the joke, I think you’re being disingenuous. The pain a victim – any victim – feels is real, no matter when they suffered it, and should not be casually commandeered for the sake of a cheap laugh. Mention Anne Frank in a joke, for instance, and you lose me, I don’t care how many Golden Globes you’ve hosted. As for that hoary old chestnut that likes to insist offence is not given it’s taken, substitute the word ‘offence’ for the phrase ‘punch in the face’ and you’d be closer to the truth. Words are powerful, they can hurt us just as often as they can make us laugh, so they need to be used with care, especially since they can be picked up and wielded so easily by bad actors intent on doing us further harm. If you know what you’re doing, you can still say anything even when you’re not allowed to say everything.