The Lobby has Ears

Theater is a lot of fun, but it is not all sunshine and unicorns. Disappointment is part of theater. You won't get every role you want. You won't agree with every casting decision. You won't love every production you see. Sometimes you'll dislike the script, hate the ending, question the director's choices, or sit in the audience absolutely convinced you would have done something differently. And that's okay. Art is subjective from start to finish. Not every production, performance, design choice, or directorial decision is going to connect with every person. You are absolutely entitled to your opinion. But there is something worth remembering before you share it: The lobby has ears.

You have every right to dislike a show. You can think a particular performance didn't work. You can think the costumes were ugly, the set was weird, the pacing dragged, or Act I was forty minutes too long. You can disagree with the casting. You can even privately believe that you would have been better in a particular role. You do not owe anyone false praise. But you do owe the people around you a little awareness of where you are.

Community theater is, quite literally, made by your community. The person standing behind you in the lobby may be the director's husband. The woman washing her hands next to you in the restroom may have designed the costumes. The teenager waiting for a cookie at intermission may have spent three weekends helping build the set. The stranger standing within earshot may be the actor's coworker, teacher, best friend, mother, or child. And the actor whose performance you're loudly dissecting may be standing ten feet away. In community theater especially, there may be only one or two degrees of separation between virtually everyone in the building. You don't have to pretend you loved something you didn't. But the lobby, restroom, concession line, or parking lot immediately outside the theater may not be the ideal location for the full unabridged review. Save the detailed critique for the car.

And definitely don't do it during the show.  There is another person in the equation who may have absolutely nothing to do with the production: the patron sitting next to you. They bought a ticket too. Maybe they're loving the show you hate. Maybe this is their daughter's first time onstage. Maybe they've been looking forward to this night for weeks. Maybe they're completely immersed in the story until the person behind them starts whispering about how terrible someone's accent is. There is a difference between having an opinion and making another person's theatrical experience collateral damage for it.

Years ago, we had an actor who was deeply unhappy about a casting decision. She had wanted a particular role, wasn't cast, and came to see the production. Unfortunately, she didn't leave her disappointment at the door. During the performance, she openly criticized the production, the casting, the director, and especially the actor who had received the role she wanted. She also unknowingly happened to be sitting directly behind that actor's extended family. So, yes. We heard about it. All of it. Her commentary didn't change anyone's opinion of the casting decision. It didn't make the other actor less deserving of the role. What it did provide was some unexpected insight into how this person responded when another actor received an opportunity she wanted. And in theater, that matters. And in theater, that matters.

Casting isn't only about who can sing the highest note, give the funniest line reading, or deliver the best monologue. (You can refresh yourself on that particular rabbit hole in our June 1 blog, Casting a Show.) Directors are building an ensemble. They need people who can collaborate, take direction, handle frustration, celebrate each other's successes, and support the person who did get the role. Not getting a role you wanted can genuinely hurt. You may be disappointed, angry, embarrassed, confused, or convinced the director made the wrong decision. Those feelings are real, and you are allowed to have every one of them. But the actor who got the role didn't take it away from you. They auditioned, just like you did. Someone else made the casting decision. That actor deserves the opportunity to enjoy the role they earned without being diminished because someone else wanted it too.

Of course, casting disappointment isn't the only kind of criticism that can spill into the lobby. Maybe you're an audience member who simply didn't enjoy the show. Maybe you worked on the production and disagree with decisions that were made. Maybe you thought your friend's performance was fantastic but didn't care for anyone else's. Maybe you've done the same show before and are absolutely certain your production did it better. Have the opinion. Just choose the audience for it. That includes being careful with the seemingly harmless backhanded compliment:

“Well, you were great. I don’t know why you weren’t the lead.”

Or:

“You were my favorite. The rest of the show was...interesting.”

Those may be intended as compliments, but they come at someone else’s expense. And in a crowded lobby, you never know who just heard the other half of what you said.

Criticism immediately following a performance is also a particularly vulnerable moment. Actors have just poured themselves onto a stage. Crew members have been working in the dark. Volunteers have spent hours making the evening happen. Directors may be watching weeks or months of work come to fruition. Friends and families are waiting excitedly in the lobby. There will be plenty of time for thoughtful criticism later; in that moment, a little grace goes a long way.

That doesn't mean criticism is forbidden. Criticism isn't disloyalty. You don't have to love every Hamilton Players show. You don't have to agree with every casting decision. You don't have to think every actor was wonderful. You don't even have to think you wouldn't have been better in the role. And if you have genuine feedback you want the theater to hear, tell us. Thoughtful criticism can be valuable, especially when it's shared with someone who can actually do something with it. That's very different from broadcasting a running review to everyone within earshot.

And sometimes you aren't offering feedback at all. Sometimes you just didn't like the show and want to talk about it. That's okay, too. Talk about it over coffee tomorrow. Analyze it with your spouse on the drive home. Discuss what worked and what didn't with your theater friends. Have thoughtful conversations about directing, acting, design, scripts, casting, and artistic choices. Those conversations are part of loving theater, too. There is a time, a place, and an audience for all of it. Just remember that criticism doesn't become more valid because it is delivered loudly, immediately, or within earshot of the people it concerns.

Theater is collaborative. It is also remarkably intimate. In a community theater, the line between audience and artist is especially thin. Tonight's patron may be next season's actor. The person building the set may be sitting beside you at the next show. The actor you're criticizing may direct you someday. Or none of those things may ever happen, and kindness and discretion are still worthwhile. Your opinion about the art is yours. What you do with that opinion tells people something about you.

So critique freely. Disagree thoughtfully. Be disappointed when you're disappointed. You don't have to love everything that happens onstage. Just remember where you are. Because the curtain may be closed. But the lobby has ears.