“A Self-Help Guide for Theatre Addicts” / My Problem With The Theatre Show Biz

So… I started writing this out of the blue, utterly unexpected. At this time I should be completing my coding work instead of writing extra thoughts about non-course-related content. But still, I’m excited to see our this article turns out to be, since I’m treading on thin ice here. As a theatre head, I want to share a few things that made me love and hate this industry, with this blog title lives and breathes like an episode of Emma Chamberlain’s podcast which I have been so drawn to. So for those who stuck around, thanks for reading ;) 

I had never had any negative emotions expressed towards theatre performance before uni, I loved it with all my soul. The musical numbers, the setting, the directing and the advertising…?! They all felt like a cloud-nine dream to me. I recently got into thinking about it as a more wholesome, money-making workflow when I binge-watched Stranger Things: The First Shadow in West End four times. All in this October, extended a bit to November, now when I am writing it, they concluded their final original cast show. It was like a strong injection of morphine into my life that I seemed to drown in endless agony without it. Even after rewatching it four times, basically remembering all the lines, I still couldn’t seem to get enough. It was truly mind-blowing, everything was rehearsed and arranged in the highest order of theatrical arts (but no seriously it’s good everybody should watch it). I even started watching the television show after this (yes I didn’t watch the show beforehand and I’m still bedazzled so hard). It brought back my thought of learning set design one day somehow… and everything after watching was beyond my excitement, walking home from the theatre every time, it was like my heartbeat got connected with the pulse of the haptics on the stage, the familiar minor loop of eerie theme music was tattooed in my mind. I felt like it could forever be mine.

Until it didn’t. 

The funny thing is, I didn’t seem to get thing strong hit of adrenaline any time before I watched any show, which doesn’t mean I don’t love many of them. I blamed most of this sweet but unbearable dilemma on the stage effects, the script and mostly, the actors, who portrayed the characters so well that I voluntarily fell into their arranged embrace(I smell a Tony for Louis McCartney in Broadway). I got very lucky to meet some of the cast members after the show, and they were as sweet as they can be. Them showing up and giving us autographs and taking selfies added even more of the adrenaline hit and made the aftermath even harder to endure. I have to admit that the act of rushing towards the stage door and finishing all the upon-described activities is the results of me putting the actors on a pedestal. Yet it cannot be avoided in any way. The escapism they provided with their personas creates a gap between us seeing the acted and the real-life version of them. At the same time, while knowing what they are doing on stage is all pretend (in theatre’s case it’s easier to see through the facade compared to television and film), the act of acting translated into their talent and power in artistic expression, their exposure and vulnerability. By being in the theatre and watching them act, we as audiences further acknowledged, and admired the actors for their professionalism, cue the pedestal. And there will definitely be parasocial relationships in the presence where we felt emotionally bonded with the actors and they didn’t even know we existed. It breaks me to see people watching shows on a daily basis just to meet the actors when the show’s over. It’s a painful yet inevitable product of celebrity idolisation and even the theatre industry couldn’t even avoid it. 

But on the other hand, I decided to be a bit more sympathetic about this matter, and view it from the angle where I see how the actors perceive all this. I got my first job this summer (Yay) working for the backstage crew of Mamma Mia! tour in Zhuhai. As exciting as it sounded at first, and as it truly was, I’d rather not travel down that Sisyphean spiral again. I’ll explain, I am definitely not the type of person who takes a repetitive job as a pleasurable one. As much as I thoroughly enjoyed watching all kinds of shows, repeating the procedure of laying down the same costumes, checking in with the actors, ironing, marking cues and letting all kinds of close-up BO become a daily encounter… I found myself in such a huge relief when my weeklong shift was over( and straight up dreamt about messing everything up after I heard any ABBA song playing anywhere). To this day I have no idea how the actors did it, it was all merely a huge glittering, “voulez-vous” boulder to be rolled up the hill, rolled down and up again. Even though the whole atmosphere of the backstage and between the cast members was quite sweet and homey, and they could be seen as they were having fun out of it all, I still felt like I could be driven crazy if I did this in the long run. Of course, it is exhilarating as it can possibly be if a show is experienced once or twice, like a high school production for the actors, or a commercial production for the audiences. One magical theatrical experience for the audiences could very much be a thousand dedicated, sweating experiences ago for the actors, another inevitable gap between who’s on stage and who’s watching. For the actors, by showing up outside the stage door, in no rush to go home, taking selfies, signing programmes and answering work-related questions, it can be put in a way that the actors are sympathising with the audience and respecting their perceptions as if it was the first show they’ve ever played (all credits here goes to Christopher Buckley, literal angel by the stage door). 

I thoroughly went through rehabilitation like a legit addict after Stranger Things. In order to overcome my overthinking, I got into little therapy sessions with myself, my friends and family, and the little self-help guides on YouTube. The process was, physically and mentally painful, as the show was too powerful and impressive to be cut and separated away from me. To describe it in a more poetic yet disturbing way, I got lost in its enchanting swamp and I have to break my bones and crawl out to carry on with life. The best and worst possible of the theatre industry, I would say, was how it contradicts real life so starkly. For in a brown box with bad cellular reception, you were taken away from all troubles, worries and bills to pay, and transported into an unknown land, where they take your heart upon a string, and fill you with a kaleidoscopic extravagance for a good three hours. And when it is all over, there are no more butterflies and rainbows (or in this case, jump scares and demongorgons) to be chased, and you are back in your flat, facing the same problems with work and commute, and maybe even worse…sunlight that fades away at 4:00 pm every day. That was where theatre drove me a bit more confused than I already am. The love-hate relationship that it presented, it hugged me so dearly for one moment, and as soon as it passed, I got drenched in a cold bath as it was telling me: “Show’s over kid, get back to real livin’.” Perhaps that is why I prefer theatre pieces with open endings and tragic undertones, perhaps it gives a smoother transition back to real life, or it simply just took away some of the real-life pain, and allowed me to be mellow and ached during theatre hours, so I can come home as if a grateful light shone upon my face, and bring a heart full of hope towards tomorrow.

Just to summarise this lil’ mindful sesh for me and those who might need it, I still cannot imagine myself living in a theatre-less world, which is not totally a bad thing. Yet to an extent, I’m afraid of getting involved in any working roles in the theatre, to repeat any vicious show cycles. Perhaps this is the nature of any exhilarating live performances, they get anyone involved, back or front of the stage, with real highs and lows. Now that I have finished this analysis, I am hoping that the future returns of mine to the theatres will be charged with a more rational mindset. I’ll let them drown me for a couple of hallucinating hours, and spit me out in one piece.