#20: Theater* Geeks

Prior to the April production of The Gentlemen’s Ploy, I listened to cast recordings of musical comedies every afternoon during tea. However, in the ten weeks since the production I have listened to cast recordings only a half dozen times. This has happened after my previous productions as well. I get oversaturated with theater and have to take a break. So here I am, once again taking time off.

I am pretty sure that if I were a theater geek this would not happen. Theater would be mother’s milk to me, and at the close of one project I would be eager to take on the next. But I’m not a theater geek. It is true that I know more about theater than the average man on the street (and I’ve written four musical comedies, for goodness’ sake!) but I was never bitten by the theater bug, and it shows in many ways.

A while back I read the results of a survey of what producers, actors, and audiences want from new musicals. (Producers want few actors and no orchestra. Go figure.) Basically the actors were looking for non-traditional heroes and non-romantic plots. The audiences, on the other hand, were looking for a good time.

Now, I’m not claiming that all actors are theater geeks, but I’m guessing there is a lot of overlap. So for the purposes of this blog, I’m am going to equate them. In fact I’m going to assume all actors and production personnel are theater geeks. So there!

I’ve listened to a lot of theater podcasts hosted by self-identified theater geeks. They are always in favor of shows that make them think or provoke them or just make them cry. Give them a musical dealing in mental illness, family dissolution, and a suicide or two and they couldn’t be happier. The darker and gloomier the material, it seems, the brighter they feel.

Not me. I’m with the audiences here: I want a happy ending. I have nothing against shows that make me think, but not if what I’m thinking about is the relative merits of arsenic, cyanide, and strychnine.

This is not to say that the desires of theater geeks and audiences are mutually exclusive. The audiences for new work also say they don’t want to see the same things they’ve already seen. Presumably that would fit well with theater geeks wanting non-traditional heroes and non-romantic plots. But I’m also guessing that theater geeks are not looking for that happy ending, which might be a problem.

Now, you might ask yourself, isn’t the whole point of the theater to entertain the audience? Shouldn’t the audience’s wishes be paramount? Well, yes, but the theater geeks cannot be ignored. They are the life blood of the theater. Without them there would be no theater. Who else is going to spend countless hours building sets, finding props, sewing costumes, painting backdrops, sweeping stages, adjusting lights, memorizing lines, and enduring endless rehearsals? And they do this not for the little or no money they’re paid, but for the chance to spend time in the theater with other theater people and to receive the grateful and enthusiastic applause of the audience.

Which means, of course, that the audience cannot be ignored either. They are the ones appreciating the performance and laughing and crying and applauding. Even if a theater didn’t have to worry about ticket sales, if there are no people in the seats—if the house is three-quarters empty—it is no fun for anyone: not for the actors, not for the crew, and not for the audience.

So what is to be done? Audiences can’t be expected to see shows they don’t want to see but theater geeks can’t be expected to work on shows they don’t find fulfilling. I don’t have an answer. Until we find one, I suppose we muddle along.

*NOTE: Except in proper names, I insist on using the American spelling of “theater.”I am not one of those who believes that the use of the British spelling confers additional elegance or sophistication.Besides, didn’t we have a revolution 250 years ago just so we could annoy the British with our American spellings?