PANTOLAND is currently being bombed by the criticism that it should look in on itself and update. But is it fair? How far do our fairytales have to go to coalesce with modern thinking?

In recent days, a stooshie on the level with Jack’s decision to sell the family cow for beans has erupted. The national media has taken to debating the comments of a PR consultant who questions the actions of the Prince in Sleeping Beauty. Inspired by the #MeToo campaign against sexual harassment, this mother of a six year-old son complains that the Prince’s kiss is “non-consensual.” She wants to know if this were the sort of sexual behaviour she would wish to see her son “absorb.”

But there are problems with this argument. Many problems. The entire point of the Sleeping Beauty storyline is that she’s in a coma, as a result of a bitter act of jealousy. If the Prince leaves her alone there is no story. But this kiss, says the PR lady, wasn’t given with consent. Beauty has no say.

However, panto isn’t real life. It’s a made-up tale, more often than not derived from a story that’s hundreds of years old. In panto, people turn into frogs or pumpkins into coaches. They fly off on magic carpets. In real life, sadly, we don’t have Fairy Godmothers who grant us three wishes when we’re in schtuck. Therefore we need to cut the 100 year old coma storyline some slack.

What you also have to consider with the Sleeping Beauty debate is the likely impact of the storyline upon a child. Any little boy who watches Sleeping Beauty this year will not come away with the belief that rape is a possibility in a relationship, that an unsanctioned peck on the lips suggests that women are simply prey.

It makes you wonder if some people understand the premise of panto stories, the simple inarguable notion portrayed is about good and evil. Can children seriously be under threat from a moral universe that reminds them they should be honest with your mother (Jack), work hard and be honest and you’ll achieve in life (Cinderella), don’t let envy eat you up (Snow White) and so on.

Kate Edwards of Seven Sisters, the national centre for children’s books, agrees. She said tales such as Sleeping Beauty have an important cultural role. “The fairytale tradition is rooted in moral instruction, telling children what’s right and wrong. It’s important that children are given cultural context – but you can do that without losing these stories.”

She’s right; you can’t lose the storylines. If you take away the idea of locking small boys in caves, you take away the essence of Aladdin. If you prevent a young girl being condemned to a life of drudgery, trapped in domestic slavery you’ll invert Cinderella. If you take away the fear of young children being lured into dark, dangerous forests you impale the heads of Snow White and Red Riding Hood on a spike of political correctness.

The most successful panto of all is Cinderella, the story of a young woman who has to contend with the bitter jealousy and enmity emanating from her less attractive step-sisters. Cinders dreams of a better life, and thanks to a certain amount of self-sacrifice and some external help she finds herself in a milieu whereby she can find the love of her life.

Is this a bad tale to be teaching young women? The feminist argument suggests Cinders places too much faith in finding a man, that only through the love of a royal can she find happiness. The argument isn’t invalid, that the story should be less about fitting a glass slipper than breaking glass ceilings for women.

But it has to be countered by the fact Cinders isn’t being controlled by a man; she’s being controlled by two evil women. And although a bling-lovin’ dreamer, she doesn’t know she is in love with a Prince. She’s prepared to accept him regardless of social status. The fact he turns out to be in Bill Gates territory is a bonus.

The fact panto is being debated over its modern relevance lines is rather ironic. In these demand-for-gender-fluid days, panto is in fact as an inclusive world as they come. Gender stereotyping went out the window about the same time as Jack's beans.

In pantoland, the Dames are traditionally played by men while the Principal Boy is more often than not played by a female. Since children were first invented, these little creatures who arrive into the world with a wisdom they often lose as adults, there has been no questioning of this gender role swap.

Children simply accept the Dame has a three-day growth and the Principal Boy is stunningly attractive and seems to be holding the attention of the dads in the audience. They have never had any problem with the idea of the Principal Girl (female) falling for the Principal Boy (female).

But making an argument for a Prince kiss shouldn’t imply many pantos don’t endeavour to be post-modern. Look this week at the case of Cinderella, right now at Oran Mor in Glasgow’s West End. Cinderella 2: I Married A Numpty tells of how Cinders wake up to the realisation that marrying for money isn’t always the best choice. Indeed, she’s married a mammy’s boy and decides she’s out of there.

Panto, in fact, continues to evolve. It’s not a fly trapped in amber. It’s moved on from the 18th century Harlequinades to music hall to the modern-day spectacle. It’s both traditional and modern. But its source material was dark.

The original Sleeping Beauty tale by the Brother Grimm, a 14th century prose poem Perceforst, was a horror tale. The Prince doesn’t simply kiss the sleeping Princess, he rapes her and she gives birth to his child while still unconscious. Now that’s not what a six-year-old should have to deal with.

Indeed, child abuse was rife in many fairy stories which found their way onto panto stage, as was the case with Hansel and Gretel and Rapunzel. In Red Riding Hood the children were in constant danger of being savagely eaten by a beast of the forest. And the original Cinderella featured the tale of how the Ugly Sisters cut off their own toes in order to fit Cinders’ lost glass slipper.

Panto changes to fit the glass slippers of modern expectations. There was a time, for example, when the only time actors of colour were hired would be to play the role of the Genie or Princess Jasmine in Aladdin, or perhaps one of the Forty Thieves - or however many the producer’s budget would stretch to – (“You two thieves come with me – the other 38 wait there in the wings".)

But these days, panto is (rightfully so) colourblind, as is the case with Dundee’s Gardyne Theatre version of Sleeping Beauty, in which Beauty is a young woman of mixed race Mia Muzak. Will the children in the audience notice the positive casting? Not a bit of it. And nor will they reflect when the Prince kisses Beauty. All they will do is cheer when she comes back to life.

(On the subject of the Prince's kiss, the Gardyne panto producer Robert C Kelly reckoned Beauty had already made clear her feelings to the Prince. “Waking her up in that manner therefore is perfectly acceptable,” he says.)

And what panto can do is take the traditional tales and update them drastically for modern times. And with great success. In recent years one of Glasgow’s most successful pantos has been Miracle on 33 Parnie Street, writer/actor Johnny McKnight’s take on the film classic. In the panto, Santa Claus was played by McKnight dressed in the manner of a New York drag queen, with an Ayrshire accent. Did the young people in the audience find it offensive when Mcknight’s character stole kisses (from male audience members)? Nah. They thought it hysterical.

The same writer’s Glasgow panto this year, Alice in Weegieland, tells of a young lady bored of Brexit, Trump and Celebrity Big Brother and follows a rabbit down a hole to Weegieland, a wonderland populated with talking creatures and power hungry queens.

That’s not to say all is entirely well in pantoland, that it shouldn’t evolve even more. You could make arguments against the way women, for example, are portrayed in many of them.

Sleeping Beauty is altogether a rather passive creature. The traditional Cinders could do with attitude, she's a little too fond of the bling, and rather too dependent open her fairygodmother having her back. She could instead be trying for an OU degree on the sly, or working secretly at a substance abuse clinic in Easterhouse.

And Snow White seems to be a little over-accepting of the Seven Dwarfs' hospitality, spending her day singing around the house while doing only a little light dusting. And she seems to have snow for brain mass. (You also have to worry a little about the Sleeping Beauty Prince, and his infatuation with a corpse, although if he were to let it go again you wouldn’t have a story.)

But we don’t need to waste time debating whether it’s wrong for children to see Princes kiss Beauties.

What the youngsters already have to factor in during the adventure is a trip into a world of darkness, of dingy castles and dark forest and greedy, evil people. And when they do go on this awesome journey a light goes on in their little heads that evil doesn’t win, that the world is full of goodness.

And that’s what they should be thinking about, not made to consider the question if Prince’s kisses are consensual.