Is the Theatre Really Dead?

Simon and Garfunkel sang that question a few decades ago. I remember the first time I heard that question in my mid-teens I was indignant. The theatre could never actually DIE. It is too much a part of the human soul!

Yeah. Little did I know that the theatre was dead, is dead and has been dead for a long time. What's worse is that I've done my fair share to kill it.

I don't go.

It's that simple. I just don't go.

That doesn't mean that I don't miss it or that I don't want to go. I have plenty of excuses. It is too expensive. I don't really care to see a musical rehashing of some film that I found mildly amusing sometime in the 1980's. Anything that is challenging seems almost too challenging. Let's face it. I'm tired. I don't go out much at all anymore. It is too exhausting and the idea that I would have to get tickets in advance, organize a babysitter and commit to NOT being in my pajamas at 8:00 PM just seems too much to bear. Although I've already said it, it bears repeating... it is just too expensive. At an average of a $50.00- $60.00 ticket for nosebleeds and $12-$15/ hour for a sitter it is just too cost prohibitive. And forget about going out for dinner beforehand. That would break the bank for a couple who is trying to live on a budget, save for "retirement" and pull themselves out of debt. As much as I love the theatre I've got bigger fish to fry.

Part of the reason I've produced theatre is so I could actually SEE some theatre. I do have opportunities to get cheap tickets to the odd show now and again, but for some reason I can't quite work up the emotional fortitude to go. Usually it works out that I would have to go see the show alone. Which is fine, except that I like to talk about the show afterward. There's nothing worse than having to scan the audience for another lone theatre goer and then trying to devise a way to get them to discuss the show with you without coming off like a freak. I usually save my commitment energy for seeing artists I know doing small shows. I like to lend my support when I can. Of course, this has its drawbacks. As a producer of "small shows" myself, I can tell you that "small shows" are often just that. Small. In which case going becomes an exercise for my directorial eye and not so much about the joy of seeing a show. I can't remember the last show I went to that I just sat down and watched. I miss doing that. Terribly.

I often sit and think about what would be a good enough deal to get me out the door to go see a show. What would it take? Well, it would take a good show, I suppose. But what does THAT mean? I've become so cynical that I find myself dismissing concepts because they seem too, well, conceptual. I'm a fan of the kitchen sink. I love simple drama done well. I suppose I would get off my ass to see a group of unknowns tackle something impossible like A Streetcar Named Desire. I don't care to see any celebrities do it. That's too much expectation- most of it bad. I don't want to go to the theatre just to cross my arms and wear a "prove it to me" scowl. That's no fun. And I don't want to go just because there's a really good light show or expensive costumes and sets. I want to see people. Real people. Not cardboard robots programmed to emote. The theatre I've seen in the past few years has just been too overwrought with self-indulgent emotional outbursts. What's even worse than that is watching someone with technical skill go to that hyper emotional place. When that hysteria reaches a peak and yet every word is clearly spoken and fully supported by breath and technically perfect... I want to vomit.

Either tone down the hysteria or tone down the technique. Together they read as rehearsed.

I know I ask for the impossible. Maybe that is so I will have the excuse to stay home. But I recognize that this also means that the audiences I want to reach are fighting to sit on their couches in their pajamas as well. Once I figure out how to reach ME I might be able to figure out how to reach THEM.