The Future of Theater Criticism and Me Playing Devil's Advocate

This image has no relation to theater. I just wanted to use it.

So this past week was an eventful one. "American Theatre" finally launch our podcast series (the idea sparked by yours truly and edited by me as well). Howlround ran a very well-written series of essays about theater criticism, curated by my colleage Rob Weinert-Kendt. Roger Ebert died (though not before filing his very last review, proving that right up to the end, your movie sucked). And "Back Stage," the august trade publication for actors, got rid of its film and theater reviews.

And the Internet (or at least my tiny corner) fell apart. Or rather, regarding "Back Stage," there were comments like this, this and this. And many others. In short, people were not happy.

But to this I ask, was anyone really surprised? After all, "Time Out Chicago" announced that they were going online-only and eliminating 60% of their staff. "Variety" is no longer printing out a daily edition and fired its longtime film and theater critic in 2010. And downsizing and depression rages in publications across the nation. Arts journalism is floundering and it's scary. I've been scared ever since I decided, during a recession, that I was going to be a journalist and that print was dying and I should count myself lucky if I ever got a job. 

Were we surprised that "Back Stage" decided to follow what is already an industry-wide trend in downsizing? And if the reasons truly were, as executive editor Daniel Holloway explained, "the metrics," aka the lack of hits, can we blame them?

These days, not even theater artists can seem to agree on why reviews and criticism are important, if they're important at all. In this age of lacking arts coverage, you'd think people would argue less about "Why can't artists be critics?" "Why can't critics hang out with us first?" "Why can't we get better critics?" and more about, "How do we save criticism which is how we get publicity?"

The quandary as I see it (at the moment because I'm young and prone to changing my mind) is the question for any theater artist: how do you get the audience to engage with your work? For theater artists, it's how do you get the audience to engage so that they will buy a ticket and then tell their friends. For journalists it's: how do you get people to read the article?

Or do we not care if they read it or not? After all, theater is a niche past time that will never (ever!) achieve mass popularity on par with TV, film, books and music. And if that is the case, why does theater need more than a one or two reviewers per city? Why does it need anybody to review it at all, if it's just a boutique past-time for old, rich white people?

In a city like New York, why does theater need to be reviewed by not just the "New York Times," but by "Time Out New York", "New York Post", "New York Daily News," "Lighting and Sound America," "Broadway World," "Village Voice" and so many others. Can't theater critics be like art critics and architecture critics and be satisfied with a review in the "Times" and then essays in trade publications?

Who cares if "Back Stage" doesn't review theater anymore? One less theater critic to muck up the waters. And if the "Back Stage" numbers were a defining reason for eliminating reviews, why keep on putting out a piece of writing that no one is reading?

Or, if we are to argue for the importance of theater reviews, then we have to argue for the importance of theater. And because of theater is important to society, it needs a myriad of voices, all reverberating off of each other and forming an anchor for the reader to hang their responses on.

You cannot argue for the value of criticism without arguing for the value of art. And I believe that great theater takes risk in engaging the important social and political issues better than film and TV. I've not seen a show that has tackled race relations better than Bruce Norris's "Clybourne Park." Theater (particularly non-profit) is allowed to take risks that more commercial mediums cannot. And that is the beauty of it (aside from its ephemeral nature).

But can there not be a better way for audience to respond to the plays they are seeing, rather than just seeing the play, going home and thinking about it silently? Or encourage the viewers to do more than write off a few exclamatory tweets? Here's a suggestion: a national database of plays and the productions that have been mounted. And through that database, it could allow audiences from all corners of the country to talk to each other about the play: How it was done? What theater did it better? Was the critic in their town right?

I prefer locally sourced theater but then, considering that any show that has come to New York gets numerous productions in the regional circuit straight after, perhaps it is time to take advantage of that kind of creative borrowing.

What I'm trying to make a point of is: Why can't theater inspire the same rabid conversation as a TV episode or a local sports team? And why can't the pages of theater reviews and features be that platform? I have conversations on Twitter about plays I've seen. I do it on Twitter because no one in my real-life social circle knows what I'm talking about. I see no reason why that conversation can't happen on the theatrical equivalent of "A.V. Club."

I know that hits on articles about theater probably won't ever reach viral levels (unless someone dies on stage). But theater can be the source of passionate (and sometimes trolly) conversations, as it is with any review by Peter Marks of "Washington Post" or Ben Brantley at "New York Times." Some conversation, even one comment, is better than dead silence all the time.

But we need to encourage responses in our audience and our readers.Or at least encourage them to read our stuff and leave their own impressions at the bottom. The question is: HOW?

The current mentality seems to be, in terms of the performing arts and the arts journalist who cover them, is a kind of "Field of Dreams," way of thinking. Where if you create it/write it, the audience/readers will come (by some complicated alchemy of tip-off and Google). But just as I was told in journalism school, we as individuals need to create a branded presence within ourselves, to get people invested in us as people and what we have to offer.

Perhaps theater beats of different papers will need their own Twitter account, like @TimeOutTheatre and actively engage with its audience outside of just putting up a review on a website. Perhaps all critics, no matter how long they have been in the game, will be required to have their own Twitter and Facebook account, so that audiences can put a face to the words on the page.

Perhaps there needs to be a TV show or radio broadcast that reviews theater, where the audience can hear and see the critics talking and arguing about the play. I don't know, I'm just brainstorming. But the possibilities are endless and the technology to make these possibilities come true are getting easier to use and cheaper to buy.

But one thing is for sure, the days of reviewing a show just for the sake of reviewing it are over. Arts journalists (especially the ones who have been here for more than 10 years, and have witnessed the change from print to digital) will need to step up, and actively engage their readers. Maybe they will need to put out more content so that they draw readers in through sheer probability. Maybe they will need to seek out the traffic and makes sure people know that there is material waiting to be read.

Journalists may need theater artist to sell their plays and put theater back on the national conversation. And journalists need to help the artists make sure that the conversation happens. Former America Theatre Wing-executive director Howard Sherman has a good idea of making a national theater conversation happen.

Or everything I'm writing may be reductive and simplistic. If so, suggest your own ways to move forward.

This is "Hunger Games" time, no one is safe. May the odds be ever in your favor.