Judy: “Fell out of the window?” “That’s a likely story indeed (sobbing). “You’ve thrown my poor baby down the stairs that’s what you’ve done.” “You wicked man.” (Then in a very loud and excited voice). “I know what I’ll do; I’ll go and get the BIG STICK for you, that’s what I’ll do!”

Punch: “I don’t want the big stick!” (Snippet: Edwin Hooper’s: Hello Mr. Punch)

A.R. Philpott’s Dictionary of Puppetry defines a slapstick as a: ‘Specially constructed weapon used by ‘low comedians’ as well as by Punch, consisting of two flat sticks joined at one end, making considerable noise, but doing minimal damage. Whence ‘slapstick comedy’ with its equivalent techniques for evoking laughter.’

I’ve already written about how Punch’s primary weapon of choice is something, more often than not, given to him by his adversaries. (Give ‘em Some Stick Mr. Punch – A Piccini Cruikshank Special. Published by the author for the PJF.) (Hint: analysis of the Cruikshank script will prove surprising) but given how little attention the ‘how to do it books’ spend on the matter. I thought I’d have a go at plugging the gap – just for completeness’s sake you understand!

The Slapstick: you know I’m rather proud of it. People go on about ‘the voice’ but this little part in our show has as much to tell us about the show’s uniqueness as any old two pieces of curved bits of metal ever can.

My first slapstick came courtesy of Edwin Hooper’s The Supreme Magic company. The wood was white, almost bleached, untreated and with two open ends. Yes, it was a double ended-slapstick! The description of the slapstick in Edwin’s ‘Hello Mr. Punch’ has always puzzled me. He describes how the sandwich should be formed from two wooden block pieces, each 1 ¼ inches long, placed together, making a kind of sandwich and yet here was one he sold, with a one block piece, not two. Not that the block was big either, being about the 1 ½ inches that Edwin describes. The stick was held together with two nails. I will call them nails but as you may imagine – ‘pins’ would be a more accurate description.

Anyway, I put it to good use. Sometime later, one side of the stick snapped off, right near where the sandwich block and I was left holding a rather one-ended slapstick (which was no good to man nor puppet) but it did teach me one very valuable lesson.

The nail had been placed too close to the end of the sandwich block. The timber was unsupported and every time I’d grabbed it for action, I’d inadvertently hastened its demise. The success dimension is lost on me know, but I still have one half of the stick (or one face of it, at least). Measuring at about 15 inches in length, it was beautifully crafted with rounded ends but if only a dollop of woodworker’s glue had been used, I’d be using it still.

My attention turned to replacing it. I tried everything, especially replicating the three-ply timber, but alas, all to no avail.

Until recently.

You see the ply, is very thin three-ply – barely 4mm thick. All the ply I bought had holes in the manufactured boards internal construction and every time I made one, it invariably split. Eventually, at a good timber merchant’s. I was directed toward ‘birch-ply’ – joinery quality and bought a 2.44 x 1.22 m sheet, cut into panels, so I could walk it down Hammersmith Broadway! Was it expensive? YOU BET IT WAS! But I’m happier now, so it was worth it. Besides, I’ll never need to buy any more ‘slapstick ply’ for as long as I live.

In the intervening period, I had acquired a set of Bob Wade’s puppets and he’d included two slapsticks, both painted but evidently hewn from a single piece of wood. In his good ol’ fashioned way, Bob had rounded the ends and the sticks’ thickness, such that there was little to indicate that it was a stick. Save for its length, reasonably effective they have served me well and I hope they’ll serve, with equal distinction, another fledgling Punch and Judy man, when the time comes to part with them. (Offers for more than a full set of Bob Wade Puppets for sale, welcome.)

I can now made as many double-ended sticks that I want. The old sanding plate mounted on my drill rounds the ends off nicely and with three coats of varnish, I’m done. When it comes to single ended stick, birch ply is good too, although the handle, if you are going to keep the two faces apart, has to be far longer.

I have used a stick. I took a rectangular regular batten and roughed it out as a dowel. I wanted it rough so the edges would catch both the light and the varnish. I split the end by walking into local joinery manufacturing shop and giving them the spiel about how Mr. Punch would be very grateful, if they could just shove a saw cut down the top-two thirds, otherwise he’d have nothing to hit Judy with! I was away. It’s just amazing how far a bit of cheek can get you. I use it for the crocodile to swallow, as it’s painfully obvious to all and sundry, which stick it is that’s being swallowed and that’s not. Unlike some other people’s shows, the same one that reappears moments later! The tip here is to have more than one stick, each unique in appearance. This I especially useful if you work in Croydon, as they tend to be pinched and turned into kindling. Once, while working in the gutter adjacent to a beach, the stick fell off the play-board and a passer-by picked it up and popped it back for me. Punch stopped what-ever he was doing and profusely thanked the helper – you should have seen his face; he couldn’t believe it! My father late quipped that he always knew i’d end up in the gutter.

So, we have ‘single ended’ and ‘doubled-ended’, what about the Devil’s pitch fork? That can be slapstick too.

Some people the hardwood ones, personally I am not sure that I do but there is no doubt that the

sound is a little better Sydney De Hempsey, in his succinctly titled: ‘How to do Punch And Judy’ advises that not only must it be the proper length but that it mustn’t be either too long or too thin. He goes on to suggest that the dowel must be made of hardwood, it is 14 inches long and ¾ inch in diameter. Re-reading his book he also says: ‘When commencing the performance, I always found it best to have the stick inside the left-hand pocket of the trousers. Then it is all ready for Judy to pick up and get to work on Mr. Punch very quickly when the right time comes.’

I must say I do find it very amusing to see that Sydney thought it necessary to illustrate it.

I’m left to ponder where a kilted Scotsmen would shove it but that’s just the white, Anglo-Saxon Englishman coming out in me.

Before now, I’ve bought battening from DIY chains that has a moulded face cut into them. And certainly, they can look quite attractive but the ‘moulding’ for such is its technical name, tends to come with chamfered edges and no matter how you sand or plane it down, I’ve never found the result satisfying.

The then Swazzle Editor (PJF Newsletter) Mr. Glyn Edwards had a slapstick fixed to his booth’s upright (at the opposite end of the play-board to where Punch usually sits).

To make this work you need to think of a single-ended stick with a second distancing ‘sandwich block’ fixed betwixt the slapstick and upright. This is new to me but may be something I’ll use for my policeman routine ‘it’s got to be worth it guvna.’

Some ‘Profs’ glam the stick up with coloured tape, I’m guessing of the type electrician’s use, but I think that smacks of desperation. If it has been painted and then varnished, the effect’s much better and it shows some care and attention to detail. Not that I’m keen on luminous sticks but I cannot argue against them, after all Joey Grimaldi’s stick was probably highly decorative.

Where does that leave us? Is there any value in having a cudgel? Again, Glyn describes using one in his early days but he was reliant on hitting his Punch where the timber sounded sweetest – presumably where the head had a crack!

Will Haywood of Chessington Zoo fame (mid 1950s – mid 1970s) spent entire seasons using a baton of this type. He laid the adversaries out by forcing them down – as opposed to hitting them – at my tender age I thought it stylish but lacking, I suppose now, he was protecting the puppets, to extend their life. (Does anyone know how to contact Will Haywood’s family?)

Finally, what-ever you decide to settle on, please don’t call it the big stick in a childish way. Geoff Felix uses a big one in a comedy routine, which, due to it being single ended, provides an almighty thwack as he sends the policeman on his way.

Although small, these protagonists are not children, I can therefore see little point in calling a stick, ‘a big stick’, ‘a small stick’ or ‘a medium stick’ for that matter. It is a stick, just that – a slapstick, granted with an incredible pedigree but a stick none-the-less. Now if only I can work out how to make a small light sabre with a slapstick end, my Darth Vader puppet will be away!