Tooting Bec Lido Pantomime: Magic and Community Theatre Joy
Tooting Bec Lido is famous for water, width and weather-defying swimmers. Yet for many of its 2,800 members, the pool is only the beginning of the story.
Around the edges of those bright lanes sits a lively, generous and surprisingly theatrical community. There are music events, a choir, cabaret nights, art sales and, with increasing affection, pantomimes. The lido has become a place where people do more than swim. They sing, paint, build, rehearse, laugh, make mistakes, try again and cheer each other on.
The lido as a cultural meeting place
A public pool can be a functional place. You arrive, change, swim, shower and leave. Tooting Bec Lido has never felt quite so tidy or limited.
Its members bring with them all the skills, oddities and enthusiasms that make a community sing. Someone can swim a neat kilometre before breakfast, then spend the evening rehearsing a comic song. Someone else may be happiest with a paintbrush, a drill, a mop, a music stand or a script in hand.
This breadth is what gives the place its charm. The same people who meet in swimming hats and goggles may later appear under stage lights, selling artwork, singing in harmony or joining in a cabaret number.
That crossover matters. It removes the stiff edges that sometimes surround performance. The person on stage is not some distant figure. They are the swimmer from lane three, the friend from the changing room, the volunteer who helped hang a backdrop, or the neighbour who has suddenly revealed excellent comic timing.
Community theatre works best when it belongs to the people in the room. At Tooting Bec Lido, it very clearly does.
The joy of pool-themed panto
The pantomime tradition at the lido owes a great deal to Sue Brierley, a talented writer and dramaturg with a rare gift for comic adaptation. Her pool-themed versions of classic British pantomimes have become a cherished part of lido life, bringing joy to members and South West London audiences alike.
Pantomime is a wonderfully elastic form. It can absorb local jokes, topical references, outrageous costumes, heroic entrances and shameless groans. Sue understands that shape beautifully. She takes familiar stories and filters them through the world of the lido, where pumps, pools, swimmers and changing-room folklore can all become part of the plot.
In this edition, Sue was both author and director. That combination gave the production a clear comic world, but her style in rehearsal remained easy, patient and open. She left room for actors to find funny business, build moments of blocking and discover jokes that only appear when people feel safe enough to play.
That is harder than it sounds. A director must hold the story together while letting the cast breathe. Sue managed both. The result was a rehearsal room that felt cheerful, focused and emotionally generous.
From Dame to Genie of the Pump
Having played the Dame twice before, I was delighted to be invited back in a different form, as one of two genies. It was a smaller part, but a delicious one.
My character, the All Powerful Genie of the Pump, appeared whenever someone rubbed my golden pump. I then delivered the wish demanded by my temporary master, though not always with much sympathy. That is one of panto’s great pleasures. A magical character may move the plot along, almost like a deus ex machina, while still causing glorious trouble on the way.
The genie role offered exactly the kind of theatrical excess that makes pantomime irresistible. You need grandeur, speed, clarity and panache. You need to make an entrance as if the entire evening has been waiting for you, even if you are simply answering the call of a prop pump.
That style suits me. I have performed in a few Gilbert and Sullivan operettas, and they have much in common with modern panto. Both delight in rhythm, wit, heightened feeling and bold characters. Both ask performers to be precise without becoming stiff. Both reward a raised eyebrow, a well-timed pause and a line delivered as if it were the most important announcement in the kingdom.
Pantomime also sharpens stagecraft. It asks for vocal projection, comic timing, audience awareness and the courage to look ridiculous on purpose. Those are muscles worth exercising.
Building the world behind the jokes
Because I had a smaller acting role this time, I also offered my services as set designer, builder and scenic painter. That brought a different kind of pleasure.
Set work is physical, practical and full of problem-solving. A design must look fun from the audience, survive entrances and exits, support the action and fit the resources available. In community theatre, that usually means imagination matters more than budget.
I was lucky to have lots of helpers. That is where another side of the lido community appeared. People gave time, tools, hands and opinions. They painted, carried, adjusted, repaired and encouraged. A good set never arrives by magic, even when the show contains genies. It comes from people turning up.
The scenery did more than frame the action. It helped the cast believe in the world of the show. Once the colours were up and the props were ready, the whole thing took on a new energy.
Why community theatre still matters
Community theatre is sometimes treated as a gentle pastime, but it does real work. It keeps people connected. It gives adults permission to play. It lets hidden talents surface. It creates shared memories that last far beyond the final bow.
At Tooting Bec Lido, it also expands what community can mean. A swimming club becomes a choir. A poolside acquaintance becomes a scene partner. A volunteer becomes a set painter. A writer becomes the keeper of a local tradition.
For performers, it is a useful discipline. Voice, movement, timing and confidence all need practice. For everyone else involved, it offers the satisfaction of making something as a group, then offering it to an audience with pride.
That is why this particular tradition feels so valuable. It is not simply entertainment added on to lido life. It is part of the life of the place.
The water may draw people to Tooting Bec Lido, but the people give it depth. Through music, art, cabaret and panto, they have made it a home for creativity as well as swimming. And if a golden pump, a patient director and a room full of willing helpers can produce that much joy, then long may the genie keep appearing.
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