It's the panto season - oh yes it is oh no it's not.

 It's the panto season- oh yes it is oh no it's not. 

The London Palladium, in London's bustling and festive West End, is dripping with history, memories, fond recollections, sensational acts, full of spectacle and spectacular productions. But this Christmas the Palladium finally opened its doors after one of the most unfortunate episodes in recent human history. Covid 19 shut up the famous old theatre and life was put on hold. People forgot all about the joys of light entertainment on a showbiz stage and more or less resigned themselves to closure and a complete lack of enjoyment. 

But last night the old building reverberated to the sounds and sights of showbiz celebrities, a ventriloquist and an act dominated by blinding lights and fire flames. There was also the celebrated and brilliant drag queen and noted celebrity Julian Clary, surely the funniest entertainer of them all. For years now Clary has been the archetypal king of innuendo, biting satirical commentary, shocking one liners and the kind of salty vulgarity that none of us would have objected to because, quite frankly, we all need one enormous laugh.

And yet our host for Panto Land, now running at the Palladium for the festive season, was Donny Osmond, one of the most wholesome, exemplary and respectable of all performers. Osmond is of course American but you can only assume that he is fully conversant with pantomime folklore. Our American friends love the Christmas panto but Donny Osmond just embraced the occasion with a beaming smile.

During the 1970s Osmond was part of one of the most idolised and worshipped teenybopper pop groups, a time when thousands of hysterical girls would wave their scarves, scream deafeningly at the Osmond brothers and then shower the boys with adulation and idolatry. The Osmonds poster decorated the walls of so many teenage girls that some of them had to do without, such was their phenomenal popularity. There was Donny with his sugar sweet Puppy Love and the girls were just bowled over and besotted. Then there was the equally as harmonious Love Me For A Reason where all the brothers sung from the same song sheet. 

Before my wife and yours truly awaited that glorious first appearance, we were allowed to see the backdrop to this richly entertaining show. Above the glittering purple curtain were arranged a colourful sequence of Palladium pantomimes from way back when. The names were showbiz royalty from the early 1950s to the early 60s and then a generous sprinkling of recent names. You could almost feel the nostalgic blood pumping through your veins. 

For those of a certain age Sunday Night at the London Palladium was compulsive TV for most British viewers and audiences from the both the 1950s and 60s. It was black and white TV that took the breath away, captivating cabaret with esoteric acts, jugglers, fire eaters and impressionists galore. It was hosted initially for a while by the cheeky chappie Tommy Trinder and then the inimitable Bruce Forsyth replaced Trinder and the rest is Beat the Clock history. 

Then for what seemed like an age Sunday Night at the London Palladium shut up shop because suddenly there were other TV competitors who became impostors. When Sunday Night at the London Palladium began during the 1950s there were only two terrestrial channels and that was more or less that. By the 1990s and then the 21st century there were about four million satellite channels and of course the programme was just obliterated and pulverised into a forgotten land. 

Four million TV channels may be a gross exaggeration of course but you get the gist. For a while the legendary Liverpool comedian Jimmy Tarbuck hosted the same kind of show. But then on one last horrific night during the 1980s Britain lost its most dearly loved comedian-cum- hilarious magician Tommy Cooper and when Cooper slumped back into the curtain and died on stage, the Palladium's Sunday nights were numbered. 

And yet last night at the London Palladium not only did they play the old theme tune to Sunday Night at the London Palladium, they also paid affectionate homage to the greats. They remembered Danny La Rue, Arthur Askey, Leslie Crowther, Mr Pastry, Paul Nicholas, Sir Bruce Forsyth, Cliff Richard and the Shadows, the old Tiller Girls, Billy Dainty, Norman Wisdom, Charlie Drake and a whole gallery of showbiz stars from the brightest galaxies. It almost felt as all of the above were gazing down admiringly from another decade, another far distant generation and an age of what could be called simple innocence.

So it was that Donny Osmond bounced onto stage rather like a man who couldn't wait to hear the sound of thunderous applause and cheering from both royal box and the dress circle. Osmond introduced us to Julian Clary who looked as though he'd raided either Elton John's 1970s wardrobe or maybe thought it was a good idea to look as wildly ostentatious as he possibly could. Some of Clary's outfits would have not been out of place on his equally as outrageous predecessor Danny La Rue who was always partial to feathers, huge wings, padded shoulders and everything that was flowingly pink.

Then there was Paul Zerdin with his companion puppet Sam, a delightful figure who had most of the audience in stitches with comic put downs, voices thrown and something completely unexpected. An innocent, unsuspecting married couple were summoned onto the stage and promptly given strange latex masks and huge, laugh out loud teeth. From behind the wings on the stage, Zerdin transferred his voice straight into the mouths of the couple. It was quite the funniest and most surprising act of the night. Then ventriloquist Zerdin brought Sam to life on his own with another side splitting monologue. 

From the cream of the acting industry there was now TV presenter in his own right Nigel Havers. Havers looked as if he was having the time of his life but wasn't quite sure why. In various costumes Havers riffed his way through routines that might otherwise have been considered extremely embarrassing. In fact Havers did make a self mocking reference to his National Theatre days. Beneath the surface there was a deep yearning to be Hamlet, Othello or Puck in his Shakespearean attire. 

And finally there was a showbiz name from recent vintage. Gary Wilmott is a comedian, singer and all rounder of supreme versatility. Now a man of many West End musicals, Wilmott came on in some Widow Twankey costume or something that looked as such. Wlmott reeled off the traditional panto gags to order and provided the perfect supporting act to Havers, Clary and Osmond.  

There were also some very heartwarming and uplifting performances from Jac Yarrow and Sophie Isaccs dressed up to the panto nines. And we shouldn't forget the remarkable Sparkfire Dance who spent the best part of twenty minutes spinning around in circles of fire. Then boy climbed on to girl's knee followed by another breathless array of fire twirling at speed. It was a truly a night to savour and by the end of the evening most of us were almost overjoyed by what we'd just seen. 

As you left the theatre you were reminded of one Sunday Night at the London Palladium from the black and white heyday. It was the night Bruce Forsyth and Norman Wisdom reduced the audience to helpless laughter. Forsyth and Wisdom were both painters and decorators and what happened next would never be forgotten. Wisdom, in his infinite wisdom, grabbed hold of paint brush and wallpaper and then climbed onto the stepladder before stumbling, tripping and falling over himself  rather like the clown in the circus who keeps slipping over deliberately for slapstick comic effect. 

But decades later Donny Osmond and company  were worthy successors to those artists of stage and screen yesteryear. On the way out you couldn't help but notice the Laurel and Hardy bill from many moons ago. It may have been a strange observation but the London Palladium always delivered the very best and the finest from every corner of the showbiz world. You then thought of the Sunday Night at the London Palladium's famous revolving stage and you sighed contentedly. 

Merry Christmas everybody.