LUV – The Nativity, or the nativity, or The naTiviTy, or however you choose to capitalise it, is great. Every Nativity play you take part in/witness/miss because you can’t possibly skip your weekly team meeting is another mutter in a massive, centuries-long game of Chinese whispers. And even normal Chinese whispers is amazing fun.
The result is that pretty much every character in the Nativity is up for grabs and subject to change. Sure, you know how it’s all going to begin, and end, and drag on a bit in the middle when little Noah has an accident, but the characters have evolved considerably since it all kicked off in, um, o. Or -1. What did they call years back then?
Anyway: were they wise men? Or were they kings? Or were they Superkings?
Were they shepherds? Or were they caretakers? Or were they facilities assistants?
Was the Archangel Gabriel a mangel? Or a womangel? Or a trangel?
Was this a story about a man and a women enduring unbearable hardship to bear the Lord our Father’s only son? Or was it a tale of two vicious 3-foot angels who quite clearly loathed each other and seemed intent on literally pushing each other off an elevated platform in front of their respective parents?
The joy of the nativity is that the more time goes by, the further from the truth we travel. Within 30 years there will be a Carphone Warehouse sales executive in there somewhere, and I look forward to this enormously.
– Stuart Waterman
HAT – Oh, Mary, you had a baby. So fucking what? Seriously, I already spend my entire life looking at enough pictures of people who’ve had babies, because I’ve got a Facebook account. That’s what Facebook is for. Babies and racism. So thanks, Mary, for trying to force your belief that your baby is somehow special down my throat, but I’m having none of it. What did it do? It got born at a farm. Someone gave it some perfume. Big deal. A girl I went to school with just had a baby at a nightclub. Her uncle’s given it a little baseball cap in the Gillingham FC colours. The baby’s already had its ears pierced. It’s two days old. That’s special. Up yours, Mary.
My real problem with the Nativity, though, is that we’ve all heard the story so many times before that there isn’t any suspense left. Wouldn’t it be great if, just for once, Joseph got pissed off at God for knocking his wife up and tried to kill Him in a jealous fit? Wouldn’t that be great? If Joseph and God had a roll-around punch-up in a pub car park? Of course it would. But that’ll never happen. And that’s why I hate the Nativity.
– Stuart Heritage