The National Theatre’s production of One Man Two Guvnors tonight becomes its latest transfer to Broadway, joining War Horse which is already running there. Meanwhile, next Monday Ghost - the Musical, which also originated in London (by way of an out-of-town try-out in Manchester), also opens on Broadway, directed by Matthew Warchus, whose Olivier Award sweeping RSC production of Matilda the Musical is lining up for a Broadway transfer next year.
So that’s two shows for Britain’s subsidised theatre against one from its commercial sector; and while both End of the Rainbow and Evita that have already opened this season there were also commercial entries, it’s striking that their personnel includes so many talents nurtured by the subsidised theatre, including the directors of both, Terry Johnson and Michael Grandage.
In fact, the most welcome shout-out at the Oliviers last Sunday was playwright Dennis Kelly’s tribute, in collecting the best musical award for Matilda with its composer Tim Minchin, for the importance of our subsidised theatre.
And it’s also a striking fact, as Michael Billington noted in a blog for The Guardian on Monday, just how poorly the commercial sector fared overall in those awards, with only three awards in the total tally for work that originated there: to Derren Brown’s Svengali for best entertainment, Sheridan Smith for best performance in a supporting role in Trevor Nunn’s production of Flare Path and Nigel Harman for best supporting performance in a musical, for his turn in Shrek. And he says, “Three awards is not much of a tally and, if the evening proves anything, it is the consistent failure of the West End to create, rather than merely showcase, exciting work.”
But then that’s not really its job: the job of commercial theatre is to fill seats. And if that means producing Thriller Live or We Will Rock You to do so, then it is succeeding. Success for the commercial theatre is measured, ultimately, at one place and one place only: the box office. It may, from time to time, produce a show that is artistically worthwhile, too, but money leads the art in the West End, not the other way around.
But I’m also struck by another comment Billington makes in his piece on the Oliviers, and how, in his words, “they have become part of standard showbiz razzmatazz.” He goes on to say that this “in itself, shows just how much the West End has chosen to model itself on Broadway: the less it has to shout about, creatively, the more noise it feels obliged to make.”
Yes, a lot of noise is made in the West End by those with the least to shout about, like Rock of Ages or We Will Rock You. But if that’s what (some of) the public wants, producers are filling a need — and a couple of West End theatres. Over a decade ago, as Sondheim turned 70, Frank Rich did an interview with Stephen Sondheim in the New York Times in which the composer complained, “You have two kinds of shows on Broadway — revivals and the same kind of musicals over and over again, all spectacles. You get your tickets for The Lion King a year in advance, and essentially a family comes as if to a picnic, and they pass on to their children the idea that that’s what the theater is — a spectacular musical you see once a year, a stage version of a movie. It has nothing to do with theater at all. It has to do with seeing what is familiar. We live in a recycled culture.”
Rock of Ages and We Will Rock You, of course, recycle old pop songs. But it doesn’t have to be all like that; and while Once, now running on Broadway, may be a stage version of a modest indie-movie, it is also something genuinely bracing and new that expands and enlarges it into the 3D world of living theatre. It’s interesting, too, that its main creative team — adaptor Enda Walsh, director John Tiffany, choreographer Steven Hoggett and designer Bob Crowley — are all from this side of the Atlantic, and owe their careers to the subsidised arts.
It strikes me that there are different kinds of success at the box office, though Mark.
There is the kind of commercial success that sets out not only to be a dead certainty, but to maximise profits whatever the artistic cost. It finds a lowest common denominator product(ion) that will have no difficulty in finding and endlessly renewing its audience. Profit obliterates artistic merit.
At the other end of the spectrum - and this is probably the luxury of subsidized theatre - there’s that work which is starts with the art and happens to be a roaring commercial success. This is the alchemy of theatre and War Horse is the best example. It was a huge gamble from the NT and it’s paid off. Of course, it now seems an obvious dead-cert, so its hard to think of how unlikely a commercial hit it was. There was a seed of potential there, sure, but the same is probably true of His Dark Materials. Matilda and One Man Two Guvnors seem to me to be along the same lines, albeit with a more immediately obvious commercial potential. In any case, the aim is surely to make a great show, which might then/also have commercial legs.
Then there is the kind of commercial success that sets out intending to turn a profit without sacrificing the art (entirely). No one could accuse Sonia Friedman, to pick an example, of not being financially successful in the West End. Yet her products are consistently of a certain artistic standard. In Absent Friends or the forthcoming transfers from the Globe or Royal Court, the work is (at the very least) an equal partner to the money it will bring in at box office.
For what it’s worth, I think the way Jack Bradley spoke about a third way at the recent Heart of the West End conference made a lot of sense. He talked about a new, closer relationship between subsidised and commercial theatres and mentioned that The Heretic was a Sonia Friedman Productions commission. Were it deemed to have West End legs, it’s theirs to take. Would it have covered its inception costs at the Royal Courts? Most likely, yes. I’ve heard of quite a few young playwrights familiar from subsidised theatre who are under commission from commercial producers. All this strikes me as very sensible speculation, investing in an artist, rather than a surefire hit. (How the subsidised theatre should position itself in relation to this practice is another matter. I’m sure you saw that Edward Bond recently dubbed the Royal Court a tryout theatre for the West End.)
So yes, when it comes to commercial theatre, box office success is the first measure of success. But that doesn’t automatically infer that the show that the biggest grossing show is the biggest success.
Is it that subsidised theatre has to be rewarded to justify the subsidies?
End of the Rainbow was co-produced by Royal & Derngate, Northampton, so it's not a pure commercial sector creation either.
I recall vividly reading the chapters in Michael Codron's book about producing new plays in the West End. One by one 'his' authors abandoned him for the subsidized sector. What is in the West End a flop, at the NT or such is a scheduled run of 30-40 performances. The pressure is much less.
The same is true of stars: doing a show at the NT or RSC or Donmar or Almeida required a relatively small time commitment, and is rather posh. And you don't close early.
Doing a play in the West End the same actor would demand 10 times the salary, and be on the line as 'carrying' the show. If it hits, great, but if not, the flop goes down to he or she being a star.
Simon Russell Beale is a golden star at the NT - he'll help sell out a show before it opens. But in the West End? Deathtrap was death at the box office. In the commercial word SRB is not a star.
So all the quality playwrights have retreated to the subsidized sector - and their hits only get funneled into the West End.
It doesnt help that critics who be-moan the lack of quality new plays and musicals in the West End, tend to slate them when they do appear.