Depressing christmases to make yours seem even better

Christmas cheer is a good thing. No arguments there. But one thing Snipe can’t stand is the pretence that at this time of year, everyone is having a wonderful life. Some people are lonely or, worse, stuck with their families. In a spirit of festive empathy with their misery, here are five people who suffered entertainly awful Christmases. Cadbury’s fingers crossed that yours will be better than these.

Alan Partridge in a Pear Tree

Knowing Me Knowing Yule is, with the towering exception of The Office, the best comedy Christmas special ever made. The Vauxhall Labrador, the ribald chef, the kidney dialysis machine inside a massive cracker…it had it all – culminating in this moment where Alan punches Tony Hayers in the face with a stuffed turkey. A low point.

The Sticky Bandits

Home Alone is almost certainly the best film ever made. You will not find a flaw, for there are none. For the Sticky Bandits, Christmas was a disappointment. They didn’t get the loot. They did get an iron in the face, a nail through the foot, tarred and feathered and some hair singed off with a blowtorch. Humbug.

The Simpsons, Miracle on Evergreen Terrace
“Sounds like you’re having a rough Christmas. You know what I blame this on the breakdown of? Society”. Some sniffy critics slag off the episode where Bart burns down the tree and the family become a charity case for the whole town. I know what Kent Brockman would say to those critics: “Strong words. Strong, bewildering words.”

Professional Footballers
How would you like it if you were told that you couldnt have a massive christmas lunch this year, you had to stick to pasta. And you needed to pop into the office for a couple of hours in the morning. And while you’re at it don’t make any plans for a Boxing Day stroll because you’ll be spending it on a coach to Sunderland and back. Would you be happy? Of course not. But that is the lot of the professional footballer. “Ah!” you scream. “BUT I DON’T GET PAID £x,000 A WEEK!” But by judging them on those terms, are you not implicitly endorsing the same money-centric framework you seek to overthrow…?

Joseph

Poor old Joe. Not only did he have to lug his pregnant wife across the desert on the back of a donkey, not only did he have to spend the night in a stable with a bunch of cows, tending to a wife whose nascent son was not even his own, but when he finally dropped off he got woken up by a load of shepherds and smart alecks tramping in to gawp at the newborn and give him a load of perfume and never asked for anyway. The poor man must have been completely shattered, and in desperate need of some mulled wine and a turkey sandwich.

And so am I. Merry Christmas!

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Second Fnarr the the Right

Alan Hindle illustration

A few inches of snow and Britain is paralysed. Across the country, (as usual, worse in the north) buses, cars, stations, airports have turned into chilly, makeshift hotels with long views out the window of blank misery. Still, although Brits have little idea what to do with weather besides complain about it, with a weary shrug you slog through, joking however grimly and making light. Despite chaotic weather, crumbling global economics, world leaders howling nervously for blood at their bad behaviour being splashed across the Internet, Britons will have their jolly Christmas.

The only thing more dependable than Christmas is the Christmas panto. If Christmas had never been invented there would still be celebrities annually lampooning their spent careers, hairy men dressing as hairier women, double entendres that aren’t terribly double and cries of “it’s behind you!”

For my first ever pantomime I chose to see Peter Pan at the New Wimbledon Theatre, and for one reason: David Hasselhoff. A thirty-year career of cheesy television, as well as being an unlikely pop god in Germany, his work and private life are often held up to ridicule. Unfairly, I think. In the 80s Hasselhoff zipped around in a talking muscle car and bounced across Californian beaches in relentless slow motion- the popularity of these critically derided shows still making him the most watched TV star in the world. But I loved Knightrider as a kid, never missing an episode. C’mon, it was a car with a posh English accent—and on the Canadian prairies that was pretty damn exotic. They were fluffy fun and the Hoff has never appeared to take himself too seriously. Moving to the UK to become a judge on Britain’s Got Talent, he’s opening his new UK life as Captain Hook in Peter Pan, alongside reality show Pineapple Dance Studio’s flouncing titan Louie Spence as Roger the Cabin Boy.

The Hoff does not disappoint. A little stiff, a little wooden perhaps, but moving around in that wig, those boots, the brocaded curtains wrapped round his shoulders drenched in tassels, trim, tinsel, feathers, it’s can’t be easy. Hasselhoff works every trope and cliché like a trouper, a heroic goofball,mugging shamelessly and subjecting himself to the groping paws of Roger. Spence, I admit, has always got on my nerves. I don’t watch much reality TV, but when he has occasionally flapped across my screen I haven’t cared much. Well, I think I might have been wrong. He is an absolute, fizzing star in Peter Pan. In fact, he kind of is the star, dominating the stage. The producers wisely keep Hasselhoff back, like Jaws or Darth Vader, he’s brought in for impact while Spence minces, scissor kicks and gobbles up the scenery with lisping relish. Camp? The man’s a jamboree. Frankly, with the exception of the Three Panettes, Nadine Higgin, Donna Hines and Tasheka Coe, a soul-and-blues trio providing much of the musical entertainment, and occasional flashes of solid physical comedy from the various pirates, the two main leads are the entire show. Peter Pan, Wendy, the lost boys dressed somewhere between boy scouts and Henry VIII, the sexy, skimpily dressed Picanninny Indians, they all have their moments but the audience hangs on the appearances of Spence and Hasselhoff. Perhaps that’s how it’s supposed to be.

The costumes and sets are gorgeous, illustrations straight out of a childen’s storybook, yet it does try a little too hard to tap into Disney’s version of Peter Pan. Probably because this is the only connection to the story for many of the kids in the audience. The music is springy and fun. The flying sequences, except for the initial trip to Neverland, using projected animation to create a cinematic tour of the rooftops of London, are awkward but not overly relied upon. There didn’t seem to be much “it’s behind you!” or chances for the audience to boo and hiss, but Peter Pan also doesn’t have a “dame” character, so maybe it’s less typical of Christmas shows. Once again, as a panto virgin I have nothing to compare it to. Regardless, the whole thing is a huge, messy, frothy, silly, uproariously lump of fun and I had a brilliant time.

Next year Hasselhoff should do Dick Hoffington and His Kit, with Louie Spence as Pamela Anderson. Pammy can do a cameo as The Equalizer. If the 80s is never allowed to go away, nobody ever has to grow up.

Happy Winterval, everyone

Snipe is on holidays until 4 January. We’ll be posting here periodically — look for some Top 5s for Christmas and New Years — but otherwise we are holed up somewhere, waiting for it all to blow over.