Is there a future for serious criticism? I passionately hope so. I began my own adventures in the critical trade 50 years ago in the pages of Cherwell. Thanks to the benign tolerance of a succession of Guardian editors, I’m still at it. Still trying to make sense of tonight’s theatre for tomorrow’s readers and still hunting for the right words as my 11.15pm deadline approaches. But, while I remain optimistic, I think we should all recognise the threats criticism faces.
First, there’s new technology which I see as both friend and foe. As an old hack who has had to adjust to new techniques, I recognise the advantages of the internet. It means reviews can be disseminated instantly. It opens up debate. It challenges the critic’s presumed authority (mind you, as long as I’ve been writing, readers have been questioning my views). But there is also a downside to the new democracy. Too many people on the blogosphere, shielded by anonymity, substitute abuse for rational debate. Gossip sometimes takes the place of argument: especially true in New York but now starting to happen in London where Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Love Never Dies, for instance, was comprehensively rubbished long before it officially opened. And tweeting, which I’ve never actually done, strikes me as the enemy of serious criticism which is not simply about having opinions: it’s about the ability to express them with whatever fluency, grace and wit one can muster.
But I see many other threats to criticism today. One is the prevalence of a consumer culture which demands that virtually all the arts- theatre, cinema, opera, ballet- be judged in the same manner as bars, cafes and restaurants. Obviously I’m talking about the system of star-ratings which we all have to use. My objection to the star-system is very simple. It pre-empts the review itself and it is dangerously arbitary. How many stars do you give a fine play that is poorly directed or, conversely, a masterly production of a second-rate piece? Plays are also complex, elusive things that defy easy categorisation. If some harassed hack had to rush out of the Inns of Court- where it was first performed- and slap a star-rating on the first night of Troilus and Cressida, it would probably only have rated a three.
Along with consumerism, I see the growth of a consensus-culture as another visible danger. This is difficult to pin down but I am convinced that it is getting harder to express a maverick opinion that contradicts the majority. It may be because the blogosphere tends to make us more conformist. It may be because of the conditioning of pre-publicity and hype. But, in my field, many of the greatest reviews have been those that challenged the prevailing view. Harold Hobson in The Sunday Times eloquently hailed Harold Pinter’s The Birthday Party as a masterpiece when it had been viciously attacked by all the national dailies (I should say that in Oxford and Cambridge it was perceptively reviewed on its pre-London tour). Similarly Kenneth Tynan in The Observer fiercely championed Osborne’s Look Back In Anger in the teeth of much opposition. Today, however, I see much more cosy consensuality. If you dare to question, as I have, the merits of Les Miserables, The Lion King or, more recently, a Judy Garland show called End of The Rainbow, you are treated as a mad eccentric.
Space-restrictions also make the modern critic’s life difficult. I look with envy at the essay-style reviews of a previous generation or at the copious lengths enjoyed by Ben Brantley writing about theatre in the New York Times or Alex Ross about music in the New Yorker. Their London counterparts, unless writing for a magazine like the TLS, are expected to cram description, interpretation and evaluation of any work into a maximum of 450 words. It concentrates the mind wonderfully but it’s also a demanding discipline.
I don’t, however, wish to whinge. I count myself lucky to have been allowed by The Guardian to roam freely over theatre, not only here but abroad, over the past 40 years. And, if I stress the hazards faced by the modern critic, it is in the firm belief that they can be overcome. In theatre, there is an honourable tradition of criticism that stretches back from Hazlitt and Leigh Hunt through to Shaw, Beerbohm, Agate, Hobson and Tynan. I just hope there is someone out there reading this who yearns to be part of that distinguished line and who is ready to confront the challenges facing the contemporary critic. At its best the job is, as C.E.Montague of The Manchester Guardian once wrote, “the adventures of a soul amongst masterpieces.” What more seductive occupation could there possibly be?
