Theatre Is Boring
You’d have been proud, a friend of mine said to me, I went to the theatre last night.
Proud? Really? Going to the theatre isn’t a duty, although as Anthony Neilson writes,
His article feels uncannily like the announcement of the small child that the Emperor is naked. I’ve sat in ever so many plays wondering what possessed the writer to think that anyone else would give a damn about anything that’s happening on the stage, and I’ve read ever so many reviews that made me think that critics have become so used to the boredom that they don’t notice it any more.
And it’s not usually a matter of duration, either. If I were to make a list of my top ten plays of all time, I reckon would make the cut, and possibly even the 22-hour marathon , whereas , despite it’s sub-hour running time, wouldn’t.
Theatre doesn’t have a monopoly on boredom, however. Films, TV, books, opera, comedy; you name it. Internet poker, my favourite waste of time, is very much characterised by long periods of boredom punctuated by moments of sicky, nervous excitement. But somehow in the theatre the fact that it’s live makes it worse. In comedy if you’re bored you can heckle: the same, unfortunately, isn’t true in Chekhov. You’re stuck there, and it’s considered rude to leave. This, incidentally, is part of the success of The Warp. No-one cares if you nip out in the middle of that. The entire pace of the thing, and relationship with its audience, is much more laid back.
I don’t know what the answer is. I’m sceptical of Neilson’s comments about spectacle, which all too often seems to be used as a way of covering up a lack of real engagement with an audience. Perhaps we shouldn’t be so polite, or perhaps theatres should be designed to allow people to leave easily if they’ve had enough. Maybe it’s just that writers should have his sole commandment, THOU SHALT NOT BORE, blu-tacked above their computer screens.
I’d be interested to hear other solutions.
Comments
But at least they usually provide nice warm, comfy seats for you to doze off in when the ennui sets in. At least they do in the West End. The seats in the fringe tend to be less compliant in that respect.