The one place where art can still be risqué and risky

LIKE the best live shows, the Aussie production of Peter Pan was both risqué and risky. And yet no one was offended — can fairytales really come true?

If this show were on TV there would be petitions condemning Peter Pan for cultural appropriation and men’s rights groups protesting the vilification of emotionally absent dads. Thank god for theatre. (Pic: AAP Image/Dan Himbrechts)

THE other night I was privileged to take part in a major Australian production of Peter Pan — although I should clarify that by “major Australian production” I mean “modest British pantomime”, and by “privileged” I mean “unpaid”.

Either way, it was a spectacular night and in return for a quick cameo my kid got a free show and I got a free bit of chocolate cake.

If that’s not an agile economy then I don’t know what is.

But what really struck me was that the whole thing was completely outrageous — and I don’t just mean in the “Oh DAHHHLing you were FAAAAB-ulous!” sense. (Although I was.)

Rather it was an incredible sense of freedom that I haven’t felt since my pants split open during the Dandenong High School production of Oklahoma! It’s fair to say that a couple of Tinker Bells also made an appearance onstage that night.

Like the best live shows it was both risqué and risky. Yet for all the yo-ho-hos there would not have been one child in the audience who was remotely scarred nor a mother remotely offended. My own three-and-a-half-year-old was far too busy being traumatised by Captain Hook’s dance moves and was greatly relieved when they were stilled by a crocodile (TRIGGER WARNING).

Thankfully, he convinced himself that the other buccaneers were all “happy pirates”. Why else would his father be dressed as one?

Joe Hildebrand had a “starring role” in Peter Pan. (Pic: Nigel Lough)

Meanwhile, there were double entendres and triple-breasted bras that flew as far over the heads of the children as Peter Pan did.

And that wasn’t even the worst part. There were also Indians who said “How!” and orphans who asked “Why?” and at least one pirate who perpetuated deeply offensive gay stereotypes.

It says either too much about me or too much about the world that as I sat there I couldn’t help but catalogue every PC violation. If this show were on TV there would be petitions condemning Peter Pan for cultural appropriation and men’s rights groups protesting the vilification of emotionally absent dads.

Instead, in the dark of the theatre, I marvelled at what a special place this was. Not a place that was free from shock or surprise, nor outsized behaviour or outdated ideas, but a place that was free from humourlessness. An oasis without outrage. My own little safe space.

Indeed, the only trauma I suffered was after the show, when my son wanted his picture taken during the meet and greet. Despite a loud lecture from me about the virtues of patience, the nice production people insisted on taking us to the front of the queue.

In one horror- filled moment I saw the headlines flash before my eyes: “JOE HILDEBRAND HAS LEIGH SALES MOMENT — EXCEPT WITHOUT WALKLEY TO SHOW FOR IT.”

But, ultimately, it was a happy ending all around. My son got his picture, the non-famous people got to wait for even more celebrities than they bargained for, and the parking station company got $25 for three hours on a Sunday night.

Yes, for just one night everybody had fun and nobody was upset. Maybe fairytales really can come true.

Joe co-hosts Studio 10, 8.30am weekdays, on Network Ten.

Originally published as The one place where art can still be risqué and risky