I’ve been a bit of a fan of the Holy Cross Players for more years than it would be decent to number and I’ve seen three distinct phases of their thespian art.

 Initially the HCPs were very much a central part of the Church and I recall that the Rector often wrote the play, starred in it and sang the theme song. (I hasten to add that he does all this exceedingly well).

 Alan and Jackie Kingshott and the irrepressibly effervescent Ray Allen were very much a part of the set up in those days and a menacing but actually benign figure not so cunningly disguised in the programme as Mij Retnuh (Jim Hunter backwards!) kept a benevolent eye over all the goings-on and still found time to write his groundbreaking thesis on the benefits to the memory of single malt Scotch whisky (sadly Jim forgot where he left the proof copy so we can only take his word for its excellence).

 Moving from the Church to Glaxo’s Social Club the players entered the Jordanic Era. The multi talented family marshalled by Tony J. took the Players into yet another direction with a more musically based format, the most terrifying Dames in pantomime history and, it has to be said, a stream of scatological filth that almost embarrassed the writer of this small piece.

This year saw the Third Age of the HCP and what an amazing experience it was.

 The production was that tried and tested critique of venture capitalism and predatory bankers in which an innocent figure wanders through the unexplored riverside of Canary Wharf and is made the victim of a predatory and avaricious wolf who not only wants to eat the sweet child but expects a Knighthood and a stonking big bonus at the end of it.

Rythm of Life

 Yes – Red Riding Hood was on the menu this year and what a brilliant production was served up for the lucky few who were present at the beginning of January.

 Apparently the panto was directed by Sarra Taylor-Brown and produced by Stephanie Ward but it was hard to see the join and this had the feel of a true group endeavour.

 The Empress of Innuendo, Chris Ward, bade us welcome in the part of Fairy Cakes (!) and having wafted her wand over us made way for the Hood family of whom the lissom Karen Condon as Robin H. will linger long in the memory of all who witnessed her verdant shimmy over the boards. Marian Hood was played by that ever more youthful Marianne Saulsbury and, for some inexplicable reason, Michael Kiley gave us his Brotherhood of Man – but without, thankfully, a Eurovision reprise. The sweetly innocent Red Riding Hood was appropriately played by Alex Taylor-Brown and Rebecca Mitchell chose to portray a strident feminist activist by name of Sister Hood.

The Hoods fielded each other’s lines with a cheerful professionalism and gave us a great example of ensemble playing that gave the audience a hint of the goodies that lay in store.

 Sadly – instead of goodies we were presented with Mayor Boris who looked more like that HCP stalwart and occasional catalogue model Bob Hammond than the calm, sober and dignified paragon of civic responsibility who is currently Mayor of London.

 In the middle phase of the Players rise to world conquering infamy the appearance of Daniella Lusher, Lauren Marsh and Sarra Taylor-Brown would have featured something rather risqué in the leather Basque department. This time we met Marie, Emilie and Simone who swept the plot along until they had no alternative but to yield the stage to an odd but strangely talented creature by name Simon Carney who gave us his Eggert the Eejit.

 You will not need me to confirm that the audience was whipped into frenzy and that Eggert established the rapport of the truly stupid with a rapacious audience that rather reminded me of a Party Conference.

 Ribs were still aching from a severe Eggerting when a collective gasp of amazement (and horror) greeted the appearance of Granny Hood (Greg Hammond).

 My friends, there are no words to describe the powerfully disturbing  vision of a six and a half foot tall trannie camping it up beyond any acceptable standards of decency or decorum.

It was indeed a truly memorable performance and I believe that some people’s lives were forever blighted by the experience.

 Susan Chick was Postie and provided the links and semblance of a plot that such a production needs and doesn’t always attain.  No worries about Susan – this was a special delivery of a part and it was recorded for posterity.

Some people were born to play certain characters – I always thought of Gordon Brown as the Sheriff of Nottingham, Alistair Darling as Baron Hardup, David Cameron as Simple Simon and any Liberal you would care to mention as Wishee Washy. Stuart Dingwall, by contrast, was made to be a wolf.

His lean vulpine form slunk around the stage in a manner almost as menacing as a traffic warden lurking outside Tescos and if you can imagine Jarvis Cocker with furry ears, a brutal snout and rather a large tail then you have got Stuart.

 Superb characterisation and brilliant non verbal acting (there is, I believe, a word for acting with the body and it’s not mime but only Ian Yardley may know what it is).   If only he had agreed to sing “Werewolves of London” by the late genius Warren Zevon but the paltry excuse that this was about the real Reynard not some silver bullet dodger did not convince me!

 If Slinking Stu Dingwall was born to be a wolf then the leather lunged booming voice that rattled windows five miles away came as a crashing overture to the entrance of a man with an enormous clanger and the ability to part more than the Red Sea with his Stentorian tones – yes, we fell back in astonishment as the Town Crier, Ian Yardley (Squire of Kirkcaldy) roared up the hall causing the delicate to clutch their ears in horror and strong men to weep. A magnificent performance by someone who has finally broken away from his infatuation with large bloomers and padded bras – and the world is a better place for his self discipline.

 Jacky Mitchell and Lisa Rowe as Camille and Sophie delighted the eye and allowed us to recover from the aural assault of Ian. Good interplay between them gave way to the two finest pieces of group endeavour I have seen – but more of that later.

 Ray Allen is now commuting from somewhere on the outer reaches of the Fens but the journey was well worth it when he strolled on with Gallic nonchalance as an elegant Hercules Parrot in a superbly cut suit and an equally well tailored accent. To my amazement he was joined on stage by one of the two Princesses of Prompting and to see Joan Bird as Miss Marple made me realise who much light has been hidden ‘neath the bushel and how anxious did the other Princess, Pauline Avery, appear as she faced the terrible prospect of having to prompt the prompt.

 She needed to have no fear and all passed off with grace, elegance and the right lines.

The fact that Pauline and Joan both admit to putting down the prompt book when I have been allowed on stage does not in any way prejudice me against them and it was an absolute delight to see another side of one of this talented duo.

 As ever the HCPs are growing their future stars and Aimee Rowe, Ellwyn Yardley and Thomas O’Leary were just brilliant as Village Children and reminded me of that long lost innocence when my own two little angels took such a part. 

This brings me to two of the great theatrical triumphs of 2012.

 For some reason unknown even to Steven Hawking the Players had decided that what the world really needed was Eminem crossed with Ghostface Killah dressed up as a curly tailed pig and giving a sizzling rap that streaked along with the speed of a bacon sandwich disappearing in a greasy spoon.

Let the nation remember these names – Jimmy Dingwall, Thomas Ward and Conor Taylor-Brown – for those of us who saw them in Robin Hood meets Red Riding Hood will never, ever forget the originality and sheer theatrical genius of their trio.  Just magnificent and worth the entrance on their own.  A word too for the choreographer – Conor Taylor-Brown.

 As if the Three Little Pigs were not enough to blow the house down we then had the pleasure of meeting Maisey Condon, Jenna Chick, Zoe Rowe and Skye Dingwall who were staggeringly wonderful as four rather unusual creatures of the forest – Spike the Hedgehog, Ollie the Owl, Noah the Deer and Dillon the Rabbit.

 One of the policemen at work told me the other day that MPs were looking a lot younger these days and I couldn’t help think that the forest four betrayed a confidence and comic capability way beyond their ages. Something very special is going on when the hall falls silent in order not to miss a single word – and then erupts in joyous applause. That was our experience atOldfieldSchooland it is immensely to the credit of the Holy Cross Players that they drew in the Pigs and Forest Creatures in such wonderfully successful style. Next year’s tickets could sell out now on the strength of these performances.

 All in all a really good evening and the music whisked matters along for which we must thank the effervescent genius that is Tony Freedman, admire the skilful plank spanking of Konrad Chodzko-Zajko and the power and brutality of Rob Attlewell on drums who actually drove the bass drum across the floor with some big footed pedal work. A word of sympathy for the usual bass player, Tony Fieldhouse, who was unable to appear this year as he had suffered a singular accident in falling off a roof. I hasten to add that no criminal activity was involved and the fact that he felt it necessary to check the roof tiles of the nurses’ home is to his credit and should not be the subject of cheap innuendo.

 Andi Brown marshalled the stage crew with calm discipline and barely concealed menace. He and Steve Kiley, Alan Vincent and Louise O’Leary performed physical miracles – as did lighting director Andrew Vigor, designer Anthony Purvis and the champion crew of James Vigor and Will Vigor.

Ainsley Gilbert balanced the sound with consummate skill – even when Ian Yardley was giving it large – and if the acoustics of the hall were not brilliant Ainsley resolved all problems and ensured that not a word was missed.

 The contribution that Marianne Saulsbury makes could fill a page on its own.

Suffice it to say that Marianne provided additional material, choreography (with Kelly Allenby), make up and a terpsichorean performance of elegance that was of her exceptionally high standard.

Responsibility for props fell to Liz Beavan and Ann Woolsey and the duty was discharged with calm efficiency and something of a sense of humour!

David Clarke was the graphic designer and Dudley Beavan may forever curse the fact that he did such a great job on the tickets and posters that he is now lumbered for life with responsibility in this area as well as with his traditional photography skills.

 Emerson Bovell filmed the DVD and, subject to oversight by our local police and the council’s Watch Committee, will release another smash.

 Chris Ward was the fairy of the front office but the full “front of house” duties fell to the evergreen Roy and Marion Chick.

 No-one in history has ever made a twenty pound note disappear from my wallet at greater speed than Roy does and his skill is matched only by Marion’s ability to pluck the few remaining banknotes in exchange for raffle tickets.

 I can personally attest to the superb quality of the rehearsal teas as served by those delightful Nippies – Liz Beavan and Linda Pope. If an army marches on its stomach I have found that the Holy Cross Players need regular supplies of fine teas (and a large quantity of soft drinks and lager to taste). Liz and Linda meet this need with aplomb. On the night Norah and Mick did the necessary and it was just what we needed in a sub zero temperature.

 The ever calm and capable Bryan Payne co-ordinated as only he can and was always there with a screwdriver or some more gaffer tape. The great ship of state that is the HCPs could scarcely have left harbour without Bryan in the engine room and all credit to him for this.

 All in all this was a storming production by a superbly talented team at the peak of their form. I know how much work goes into these productions but the effort is well worth it when the result is as impressive as Little Red Riding Hood. A brilliant evening by some exceptional people – and a healthy donation raised for the Stroke Association.

 The fact that the innate dignity and sobriety of the local Member of Parliament was respected  in an absence of pies, buckets of water and bowls of cake mix can only be admired and the Holy Cross Players roundly applauded for their restraint in the matter of MP abuse but, above all, in their staggering skill.