Imagine stepping back into a world you haven’t visited in over four decades, only to find it’s more magical than you remembered. Nigel Harman, the former EastEnders star and Olivier Award winner, is doing just that—returning to pantomime after 40 years, and he couldn’t be more thrilled. But here’s where it gets intriguing: despite a glittering career spanning stage and screen, this is his first professional panto as an adult. And this is the part most people miss—his journey back to this beloved theatrical tradition is as heartwarming as it is unexpected.
At 52, Harman is currently dazzling audiences as Fleshcreep in Jack and the Beanstalk at the Aylesbury Waterside Theatre in Buckinghamshire. It’s a far cry from his last panto appearance at age 11, when he played one of the Babes in the Wood alongside Richard Briers at the Ashcroft Theatre in Croydon. Yet, panto has always been in his blood. His father, a passionate panto enthusiast, wrote and directed local productions in their village hall, where a young Harman cut his teeth on roles like Humpty Dumpty and Simple Simon. “I’m no stranger to it,” he admits, “but this is the first time someone’s paid me to do panto as an adult—and it’s joyous.”
But here’s the controversial bit: in an era where many actors chase high-brow roles, Harman’s return to panto—a form often dismissed as ‘silly’ or ‘childish’—is a bold celebration of its unique magic. “Panto is unapologetically full of joy and community,” he says. “It’s the closest theatre form to hanging out with the audience, and that’s what makes it so exciting.” Is panto undervalued in the theatrical world? Harman’s enthusiasm suggests it’s time to rethink.
His career has been nothing short of stellar. From his breakout role as EastEnders’ bad boy Dennis Rickman to his Olivier-winning turn as Lord Farquaad in Shrek The Musical, Harman has proven himself a triple threat. Yet, panto holds a special place. “It’s riotous,” he laughs. “The audience reaction is amazing—every night is different, and it’s a bit nuts.” Rehearsals, he jokes, are “a unique brand of torture,” with just two to three weeks to perfect the chaos. But the result? Pure joy.
Beyond the stage, Harman’s life is equally fascinating. He’s trained as a meditation teacher, even teaching online from his Casualty dressing room in scrubs. He’s reached the semi-finals of Strictly Come Dancing and tackled serious roles like Nazi official Otto Abetz in Farewell Mr Haffmann. Yet, panto feels like coming home. “I’m a bit of a romantic about the theatre,” he confesses. “I love the idea of kids coming to watch, of families connecting.”
And this is the part most people miss: Harman’s advice to young performers is refreshingly simple. “Just do it as often as you can and have fun,” he says. “Don’t worry about what you’re hoping to achieve. What’s important is doing what you love.” In a world obsessed with success, his words are a timely reminder to embrace passion over perfection.
So, is panto just silly fun, or is it a vital, undervalued art form? Harman’s return to the genre after 40 years sparks a thought-provoking question: Are we underestimating the power of laughter and community in theatre? Let us know your thoughts in the comments—do you think panto deserves more respect, or is it just a festive frivolity? Either way, one thing’s for sure: Nigel Harman’s joyous return to panto is a reminder of why we fell in love with theatre in the first place.
