Blackbird won Best New Play at the Oliviers. Photograph: Tristram Kenton
The award season, as you may have noticed, is upon us. And it's not just for movies. Theatre too has been getting in on the act. First, it was the Evening Standard awards. Then the Critics' Circle and Whatsonstage.com were handing out the gongs. And now we've just had the Oliviers in which Sunday In The Park With George, that started its life in a 160-seat off-West End theatre, surprisingly and delightfully swept the musical board.
I still think we should be sceptical about all awards in the arts. First, there is the simple question of how you decide that A is better than B? Take the Best New Play award. One could make an equally good case for at least four contenders in 2006. Tom Stoppard's Rock 'N' Roll dealt movingly with differing notions of freedom in east and west. Peter Morgan's Frost/Nixon brilliantly analysed the inter-action of politics and showbiz. Conor McPherson's The Seafarer compellingly showed the devil erupting into a Dublin male drinking-den. And David Harrower's Blackbird, which actually won the Olivier, disturbingly showed how sexual abuse can sometimes be a product of love. To say one is better than another is a bit like saying apples are better than oranges.
Then there is the vexed question of how awards are determined. I may be biased but I've always preferred the ballot system operated by the Critics' Circle. Critics, who at least see all the shows, vote postally; which this year led to some radical choices such as the National Theatre of Scotland's Black Watch for Best Production and Punchdrunk's Faust for Best Design. I've sat on too many panels, however, to put much faith in round-table decision-making. Those who talk longest, and Bernard Levin was a past master at this, often ensure their views prevail. Second-choices, on which everyone can at least agree, also often win a compromise vote.
Allowing for all that, I have to say that this year the Oliviers, in the past often tainted by suspicions of producer-lobbying, came up with some sensible choices. If one rejoices in the success of the Menier Chocolate Factory's Sondheim show, it is partly because it always good to see David triumphing over showbiz Goliaths. I was also delighted to see at last some recognition for Dominic Cooke's RSC revival of The Crucible, which redefined a standard classic. The Oliviers also acted as a corrective to stock media responses. Any newspaper article about English National Opera is these days automatically prefaced by the words "crisis-ridden"; yet its production of Jenufa triumphed in two categories.
But, while acknowledging the good sense of this year's Oliviers, I would still argue that all arts awards can only dispense rough justice. If they'd been dishing out new play awards in 1605, I bet you any money King Lear wouldn't have won: "Too long, too unwiweldy, too improbable a story", the judges would have decided. Marston's Dutch Courtesan would doubtless have seemed a much better organised piece. So next time you read about the latest awards, don't just reach for the odd pinch of salt. Shake out the whole flaming cellar.
