There was once an unwritten rule in theatre: reviewers would not attend a performance until the production’s official opening night, with tickets for the preview shows ahead of this sold at a reduced price. The preview period was understood as a protected space, an opportunity for a show to find its rhythm, to adjust, to fix, before being professionally judged. That contract was reflected in the fact that neither theatre nor producer charged full-price admission until post-opening, and critics respected the boundary.
Over time, that model has eroded. Today it is increasingly common – in both commercial and subsidised theatre – for full-price tickets to be charged from the very first performance. Simultaneously, the rise of online commentary, most notably from bloggers and on social media, means responses can appear from night one.
That shift has put significant pressure on traditional media. For established publications, waiting until press night can feel less like discipline and more like delay, particularly amid shrinking resources. By the time their verdict appears, the narrative may already have been set. A defining moment came when an early preview of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s 2010 new musical Love Never Dies prompted a blogger to rechristen it "Paint Never Dries". The line travelled faster and further than most formal criticism, lodging in public consciousness with a stubbornness no opening-night review could dislodge.
Criticism is no longer the sole preserve of seasoned reviewers, but dispersed, immediate and, at times, brutally effective
It revealed that authority in theatre criticism had shifted – no longer the sole preserve of seasoned reviewers, but dispersed, immediate and, at times, brutally effective.
There is, undeniably, something positive in that plurality. A broader range of voices offers a wider canvas of opinion, allowing different forms of theatre to be engaged with on their own terms.
Yet specialist criticism of a specific genre of theatre, in mainstream media at least, is rare. Significant publications assign dedicated critics to opera and dance, for example, recognising the depth of knowledge required, but theatre is often treated as a single category, with all genres being reviewed by the same critic.
There have been exceptions. In 1986, the Independent briefly appointed Mark Steyn as its musical theatre critic. During his tenure, Steyn brought a fluency and historical awareness that enriched the conversation around musicals. However, cutbacks meant the model reverted to one critic covering the breadth of theatre.
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The absence of specialism is often felt acutely in theatre for young people. This is a sector that frequently struggles for mainstream attention and, when it is reviewed, it is not always assessed with its intended audience in mind. I was recently reminded of this when watching a production by Windmill, Australia’s acclaimed young people’s theatre company, of Mama Does Derby by Virginia Gay and Clare Watson, at the Adelaide Festival. Set in the world of women’s roller derby, it explored adolescence, family displacement and mental health with a clarity that resonated strongly with its audience. Its high-profile world premiere in January at the Sydney Festival positioned it as a flagship work for both genre and company.
Yet an early review by John Shand in the Sydney Morning Herald dismissed it with one star and the headline: "Could this be the worst Sydney Festival Show I have ever seen?"
Seeing the production a few weeks later in Adelaide, surrounded by teenagers visibly engaged, that verdict felt not just harsh but misjudged. It was not the opinion itself, but the review seemed misaligned with both the work’s intention and its target audience, whose response to it could not be ignored.
In an earlier era, such a prominent review might have faded. Now it can linger online and shape perception. The adage that today’s review is tomorrow’s fish-and-chip paper carries little weight in a digital landscape where nothing disappears.
This permanence has influenced when critics are invited. Festivals, with short runs and limited previews, can often expose productions before they have settled. The chance to refine exists, but under the shadow of a more immediate judgement. A new and complex work like Mama Does Derby might have benefitted from a longer initial run at a leading producing theatre, but that may not sit as viably within the structure of a big festival and the obvious need to sell tickets.
The adage that today’s review is tomorrow’s fish-and-chip paper carries little weight in a digital landscape
Even within producing theatres, timing can be contentious. Decisions to delay or limit access to critics are often met with derision and fallout, as seen in the debate surrounding the Lyceum Theatre in Edinburgh’s new musical One Day, which sought to limit access only to Scottish national and local press.
From a producer’s perspective, the risk of any early negative national review, amplified online, can feel disproportionate, particularly with new musicals aiming for a future life. Today’s financial pressures only heighten that risk.
Understandably, critics resist managed access, seeing it as a challenge to independence. Therefore, two models emerge: one protecting a production’s development, the other insisting that once presented before paying audiences, scrutiny is justified.
Perhaps the answer lies in clarity – recognising that each production’s path is different. Greater transparency about whether a production is finished or still evolving may help recalibrate expectations. The American model of critics attending performances from an agreed date in a run rather than a single press night arguably better reflects how audiences experience theatre: as a living event rather than a fixed occasion.
For a UK try-out or pre-transfer season, this agreed date could be towards a performance run’s end, allowing time for the production to be worked on prior to reviewers coming in. While such a shift would require significant adjustment, loosening the standard press-night ritual could offer benefits to how work is assessed.
And yet, if audiences are paying full price from the outset, the distinction between preview and opening night collapses. In that context, the case for reviews from the first performance becomes difficult to resist.
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