Boo, Hiss, Belter: Ten South West Pantos Rewriting the Rulebook This Winter
December is coming, which means the South West is about to do what it does best: turn a stage into a gloriously chaotic group chat. Pantomime is often dismissed as tinsel and tired jokes, but anyone who has sat in a regional theatre while a hundred children scream “he’s behind you” knows the truth. It is live, it is local, and it is one of the few rituals we still share across generations.
The 2026 crop is particularly restless. Directors are swapping princes for pirates, putting folk bands in the pit, and handing whole scenes over to community choruses. The result is less nostalgia trip, more proper night out. Here are ten productions across the region that are bending the form without breaking the magic.
1. Bristol Old Vic: Cinderella with a choir-sized heart
Bristol Old Vic has form for making panto feel like a party in a beautifully old room, and this winter’s Cinderella leans hard into the city’s music scene. The Ugly Sisters are played by two local drag artists with timing sharp enough to cut glass, while the ball scenes feature a scratch choir drawn from community singers across the city. It is still Cinderella — pumpkin, slipper, the lot — but the glass slipper arrives with a bassline. Expect local references that will sail over the children and land squarely on the adults.
2. Theatre Royal Plymouth: Dick Whittington, gender-flipped and sea-faring
Plymouth’s big panto has gone nautical. Dick Whittington is reimagined with a female lead who captains the ship rather than scrubbing the deck, and the traditional cat is now a puppet so expressive it threatens to steal the show. The script has been reworked with a Devonport shipyard subplot, which sounds worthy and is actually very funny. Watch for the scene where the chorus of rats becomes a full-on sea-shanty mosh pit. It is loud, silly and exactly what a cold December Tuesday needs.
3. Exeter Northcott: Aladdin with local-history gags
Exeter’s panto has a reputation for sneaking in jokes about the city’s walls, floods and bus routes, and this year’s Aladdin keeps that tradition alive. The Widow Twankey runs a launderette on Fore Street, the magic lamp is discovered in a charity shop, and the genie speaks fluent Devon. It is a proper family show with a warm heart, but the real joy is the community cast: a rotating crew of local groups who fill the market scenes and bring a genuine neighbourhood buzz. Book early — school nights go fast.
4. Hall for Cornwall, Truro: Sleeping Beauty with a folk-band pit orchestra
Truro’s Hall for Cornwall is swapping the usual backing track for a live folk band, and it changes everything. Fiddles, accordion and a double bass give Sleeping Beauty a Cornish ceilidh energy, especially in the castle scenes. The spindle is still prickly, the fairy is still sparkly, but the prince arrives to a jig rather than a power ballad. It is a smart way to make panto feel rooted in the region without turning it into a museum piece. Expect spontaneous clapping in the aisles and at least one dad dancing.
5. Theatre Royal Bath: Snow White and the community spectacular
Bath’s panto goes big on community this winter, with a cast of more than sixty local performers sharing the stage with the professionals. The dwarfs are played by a mix of youth theatre members and older residents, which sounds like a logistical nightmare and looks like pure joy. Snow White herself is a proper belter, the Evil Queen gets the best costumes, and the whole thing is staged with a glossy, old-school glamour that suits the venue. It is the sort of show where you spot your neighbour in the chorus and cheer a bit too loudly.
6. Lighthouse Poole: Peter Pan with aerial magic and a shanty chorus
Poole’s panto takes full advantage of being by the sea. Peter Pan flies — properly flies — with aerial work that will make the front row gasp, and the pirate scenes feature a chorus of local sea-shanty singers who look like they have wandered in from a harbour pub. The script is quick, the crocodile is delightfully daft, and the whole production leans into the town’s maritime identity without labouring the point. It is a treat for families, but also for anyone who likes their theatre with a bit of salt in the air.
7. Salisbury Playhouse: Mother Goose and the recycled spectacular
Salisbury’s Mother Goose is the eco-panto you did not know you needed. The goose itself is built from recycled umbrellas and festival banners, the villain is a land developer with a very silly moustache, and the jokes about bin collections are suspiciously well-informed. It could be preachy, but it is not: the script keeps the gags flying and the audience booing in all the right places. The community chorus includes allotment holders and repair café volunteers, which gives the whole thing a lovely, homemade feel. A quiet triumph of silliness with a conscience.
8. Tobacco Factory Theatres, Bristol: Robin Hood with a gender-flipped hero
Tobacco Factory’s panto has always been the scrappy, clever cousin of the big regional shows, and this year’s Robin Hood keeps that spirit. Robin is played by a woman, Marian is the one with the plan, and the Sheriff of Nottingham is a middle-manager type who keeps complaining about his parking permit. The songs are original, the set is inventive, and the whole thing runs at a pace that keeps even the wriggliest five-year-old hooked. It is panto for people who think they do not like panto — and for those who know they do.
9. Queen’s Theatre, Barnstaple: Cinderella and the rugby-club ball
North Devon’s panto is a proper community affair, with a Cinderella that drafts in local rugby players as the ball guests and a Buttons who has clearly been working the crowd since October. The humour is broad, the costumes are sparkly, and the whole production has the warm, slightly chaotic energy of a village hall show that has accidentally got a professional budget. It is not trying to reinvent theatre. It is trying to give families a good night out, and it succeeds completely.
10. St Austell Arts Centre: Jack and the Beanstalk with a brass-band boom
St Austell’s Jack and the Beanstalk comes with a live brass band, a giant made from scaffolding and tarpaulin, and a script that includes a genuinely good Cornish-language gag. The community cast is huge, the beanstalk is a proper piece of engineering, and the whole thing feels like a town pulling together to make something joyful. It is the kind of panto where the raffle takes ten minutes and nobody minds, because the room is full of people who know each other. That is the point.
Why it still matters
Pantomime is often the first time a child sits in a theatre, the first time a teenager works backstage, the first time a local band plays to a full house. It is also the rare cultural event that genuinely belongs to everyone in the room. The 2026 South West crop shows that tradition does not have to mean standing still. Gender-flipped leads, folk orchestras, recycled geese and rugby-club ball guests — it all works because the form is flexible enough to hold it.
So go on. Book a seat, learn the call-backs, and prepare to boo a moustache with your whole chest. Oh no it isn’t? Oh yes it is.
