Jay Rayner's lengthy essay on plays' political leanings in Sunday's Observer, while offering a survey of what might be considered left- and rightwing by some of (mostly) London's most prominent mainstream writers and directors, spectacularly missed the opportunity to comment on the state of near civil war currently raging in British theatre.
Last Thursday Chris Goode wrote an extended article despairing of the school of thought within theatrical culture that argues: "Only a writer can contain the apparatus for reconciling the possibly contradictory imperatives of form and content; and that 'formally inventive companies' are unable to argue or to posit provocative ideas'. It is essential reading for anyone who cares about the future of theatre in this country. And this is where the real argument about politics in theatre lies. Goode's argument is an eloquent summary of frustration at the failure of most theatres, and the majority of the critical establishment, to properly engage with modes of making work beyond the traditional writer/director model - the way in which the pieces resulting from non-mainstream working methods are viewed as some kind of distraction from "proper theatre".
But what does this have to do with politics? In a recent blog post, Andy Field summed up the argument succinctly: "Form is as important as content... any radical political message a play might contain is neutered by a form which is bourgeois and outdated." Field also makes the neat observation: "Even theatre buildings have their own politics. Most of them are great bastions of bourgeois values... where people are sorted and classed, where the more you pay for your ticket the better view you get of the action."
The issue has been stirred up by the publication of Michael Billington's career-summarising blockbuster, State of the Nation, in which he offers a passionate account of the rise and fall of his favourite form of theatre: plays that offer left-leaning, socio-political analysis and theses of where the country's at. As an account of one man's tastes and preferences it is a frequently inspiring piece of work. But, as Billington himself acknowledges in the introduction, it is only a partial account of the work produced in the timescale covered.
What is frustrating about the book is Billington's refusal to recognise the impact of theatre's most recent developments, and the value of what these innovative forms say about the state of the country. No one doubts Billington's integrity, but it could be argued that it is precisely this unimpeachable passion which has partially served to delegitimise alternative forms of work. It would be wrong to suggest that Billington is alone in his thinking. He is simply one of the most prominent proponents of this school of thought, which seems to run throughout mainstream British theatre.
As a result, there is a real tension between traditional and new forms of work for theatres. This is where the real political struggle lies. At the same time a new critical language needs to emerge in order to enable proper discussion and interrogation of more innovative modes of performance. There is a significant, largely unconsidered non-mainstream in Britain, and it is vital to the future of theatre in this country. There are important discussions to be had concerning the way that work is made and how it is received. There is a responsibility for the critical community to perhaps engage more fully with this work, and not treat it as a passing fad or fluffy novelty. Yes, some new work can initially be difficult to understand, or its myriad intricate subtleties be easy to overlook, but it would be a gross failure not to engage enough to allow for the possibility of real discovery.
