THEIR very existence and ability to draw in huge crowds is confusing enough, but these pantomime plot holes make even less sense:
Little Red Riding Hood
Even the most half-witted child would be able to tell that their grandmother has been replaced by a wolf dressed in her clothes and glasses. And are audiences expected to believe that granny emerges from the wolf’s stomach unscathed? Bollocks. In real life she’d have been reduced to a mauled, bloody acid-dissolved pulp.
Puss in Boots
If this play was even remotely true to life then Puss would wake his owner up at 5am by losing its shit and trashing the furniture, before jumping on their bed and clawing their face off. This would be followed by a second half where the hero snoozes on a windowsill before waking up to lick its own bum clean. You’d still need a buxom wench character to keep the dads entertained though.
The glass slipper isn’t the most ridiculous concept in this story. Even though if Cinderella so much as stubs her toe then she’ll need to make a trip to A&E to get the shards removed. No, the bigger plot hole is that apparently no other girls in the kingdom has the same foot size as her. Are we meant to believe she’s trampling around in size 15 shoes like a freak?
Everyone knows that gold is one of the heaviest metals. So if a goose was laying golden eggs then her back end would collapse with the weight of it. At the very least she’d have suffered a massive abdominal hernia. This grim adherence to realism might not translate to ticket sales though, so perhaps it’s best overlooked.
Dwarven diamond miners wouldn’t be living in a ramshackle house in the woods. They’d be living in a huge mansion, dancing with strippers and snorting lines of coke off their stomachs. Their names would have to be more accurate too, something along the lines of Probably Owns Slaves and Destabilising The Local Economy.
As anyone middle-aged knows, once you reach your 40s you need to wake up and go to the toilet at least once a night. Twice if you’ve had anything to drink after 5pm. Sleeping Beauty was a teenager when she went to sleep for a century, so after about 25 years of undisturbed slumber she’d be dozing in a bed reeking of piss and shit.