Sorry.

Over the past year or so, I have been very rude about Matt Trueman's criticism. Whether or not I meant what I said, I was trying to engage him in a flame war. I hoped the sight of two critics hurling abuse at each other might encourage public interest in what is, unfortunately, a moribund medium. 

I acknowledge that I probably overdid it, and apologise for a series of blogs that were boorish and played up my repressed, and atavistic, macho tendencies. Besides, Trueman has too much dignity and hasn't risen to my bait. 

It's time to take him seriously, then.

In a recent article, he ponders why a play that didn't grab him when he saw it (Simon Stephens' Song from Far Away) has been lingering around in his mind. He recognises his enthusiasm for feeling and emotions in theatre, and quotes John Lahr. 

"Part of the theatre's big magic is its ability to exhilarate; it has the power to put us beside ourselves, to banish gravity, to call out of us our most buried feelings, to make the moment unforgettable, to kill Time. That's its joy ride."

Aside from my suspicion of theatre that exhilarates (if I wanted real thrills, I'd take a date to Platinum Lace and see what happens...), I share some of Trueman's passion for theatrical passion. But I wonder whether his conclusion is a little weak.

the best shows - those that really make you feel - might not be the most memorable. They might not be the shows that really stay with you. How does criticism account for that?

The 'best shows' may not be the ones that make me feel, but the ones that make me think. Criticism accounts for this by being stuck in its own narrative...

That is to say: writing a review just after seeing a show encourages a way of responding to theatre that is immediate and impressionistic. Shows with the big bangs, the emotive content, the high drama, are going to come out better than the more reflective shows, which unfold their brilliance over time.

Doesn't Brecht talk about this? The ideal spectator is not, for him, enthusiastic but slightly detached - smoking a cigar, even.

I'm not even sure that 'best' is a valuable way of describing performance. Of course, when critics get together, or reviews are aggregated, there are certain performances that can be called the most successful. But as Trueman points out, different plays operate in different ways and a reflective play isn't easily comparable to a spectacular.

Criticism, when it can't account for something, reveals how it is broken and not fit for task. Because I can't bear to leave an article with a wistful questions, I'll offer a solution.

A critique is not a single event but a process, to be revisited over time, if appropriate.

Rejecting the idea of a rigid star rating would allow a more nuanced response. 

Political Musings (Again)

I hate writing reviews of shows that I did not like. I force myself to do it out of a sense that if I just ignored them, my blog would be a load of churnalism and cheer-leading. I was especially upset to dislike the NTS' production of In Time o' Strife because I enjoyed the dancing, liked the cut of Graham McLaren's direction and Michael John McCarthy, who provided the musical arrangements, is an excellent musician and composer. I really admire the people involved, thought that they were poking at interesting areas, and still, somewhere in my soul, believe that theatre can address Political issues.


I don't review to persuade audiences to see, or miss shows: I write because I have to express what I felt. It's that compulsion, selfish, perhaps, but not so selfish as to think my opinion is definitive. Quite clearly, In Time O' Strife has its fans. Even some of the less positive reviews say that it has a place - as an historical piece, perhaps, or saved by the obvious energy of the cast and the relevance of the Politics (the death of the mother, for example, would not happen once the NHS was in place and, sadly, that seems to be under threat). It could be that this production is a warning against a return to the bad old days - although the mining industry, and the unions, are sadly long since defeated and don't provide a contemporary resonance.


I am also concerned that I have discovered a dogmatic position on Political theatre: I was always troubled by the gap between content and process (that is, whether the politics espoused on stage are matched by the way the production was created), or the actual Political impact theatre might have. Brecht's critique of Aristotle's description of tragedy kind of gave me an explanation.



Because of this, I am always glad when people disagree with me. I might laugh at them behind their back, or argue with them on Twitter, but I would hate it if my unhappy review was the only voice - or part of a consensus. I don't like being contrarian (much), but, like they say: there are three sides to every story: mine, theirs and the dialectic synthesis.



Having said that, anyone who says something is the 'best piece of theatre that they have ever seen' needs to see more theatre.