Ultra-safe bet ... Jamie Parker and Russell Tovey in The History Boys at the National. Photograph: Tristram Kenton
In my last blog, I explored the role played by the fringe in our theatre's ecology. Let's now jump to the other end of the scale and look at the commercial sector - those theatres which exist primarily to make money and reside largely in the West End.
Ironically, there is one very important factor uniting places like the Haymarket and the Gielgud with fringe theatres like the Finborough and Theatre 503 . None of them receive any public subsidy. While the fringe companies must often rely on the generosity of the odd private donor who expects nothing in return, the big West End spaces get their money from commercial investors who expect to turn a healthy profit. The importance of the bottom line in this equation means that most West End fare ends up being either light (usually musical) populism or transfers of ultra-safe bets from the subsidised sector.
Yet this relationship between commercial and subsidised theatre is a controversial one. In his recent book, Michael Billington describes Les Miserables - originally a co-production between producer Cameron Mackintosh and the RSC - as "a classic public-private partnership in which the brand name and technical expertise of the RSC were allied to the commercial flair of the West End showman." But, as he points out, this set a "dangerous precedent" as "It gave a commercial producer a large say in the artistic programming and policy of a subsidised national company ... [Mackintosh's] power and influence tended to dilute the artistic independence of our national companies."
Billington has an important point. The large injections of cash that a West End transfer provides for a subsidised company can generate a real temptation to programme increasingly middle-of-the-road safe bets and not take the creative risks that their subsidy allows for and demands.
But commercialism does not always have to suffocate quality. As most theatres know, the promise of a London run can have a galvanising effect on the quality of set, lighting and sound design and, of course, actors - as a combination of good money, larger audiences and general prestige often will. It is easy to forget, but prior to their glamorous London runs, shows such as Don Carlos and Rupert Goold's Macbeth ran in Sheffield and Chichester respectively. People in those places were able to have what might be termed "world-class" theatre on their doorsteps and for a fraction of West End prices.
Indeed, given the unreliable nature of how public subsidy is dispersed at the moment, it might seem particularly sensible to try and ensure that a theatre's wallet is well stuffed - lest the proverbial rainy day should suddenly arrive.
Of course, a commercial producer will be interested only for as long as there is money to be made, and in this respect is even less reliable than the Arts Council. But it seems that for all of the dismal tripe that the West End spews out, it can - occasionally - play a vital and creative role in our theatre landscape.
