Recorded Theatre is Great, but it Can’t Beat the Real Thing
Imogen Usherwood
It’s no secret that the coronavirus has put live performances out of action. Since the pandemic hit, theatre has made an unprecedented switch online. There have been plays filmed in isolation and even live shows presented over Zoom, but the most high-profile productions in the last few months were produced before any of this happened. Currently, the internet is full of pre-recorded theatre, available to stream for free for short periods, or via a subscription service like Disney+.
From London’s famous National Theatre, to Andrew Lloyd Webber’s legendary musicals, and now, of course, Hamilton’s original Broadway cast, pre-recorded shows have become hugely popular lately and a convenient way for audiences to experience a night at the theatre from home. While they are brilliant shows, expertly filmed and starring some of the biggest names in the industry, for me, they just aren’t the same.
It’s worth prefacing this with how grateful I have been for these shows. Since March, I’ve had free, unhindered access to productions that I wanted to watch years ago, and the chance to see some famous names including Benedict Cumberbatch, James Corden, Gillian Anderson, Mark Gatiss, and Lin-Manuel Miranda, all from the comfort of my home. Not only have they helped to pass the time during lockdown and provided comfort to many, they have also helped to garner donations and support during what has been a perilous time for the arts. On the first night of London’s National Theatre streaming its 2011 production of One Man, Two Guvnors on YouTube back in March, over 200,000 people tuned in – that’s over 200 times the audience capacity of the Lyttleton Theatre in which the production was performed. Recorded theatre is hugely popular now, and it’s exactly what we need.
That said, it’s not a replacement for live theatre, it’s a convenient alternative. I will never forget the rush I felt at age 12 after I saw Wicked in the West End; I was overwhelmed by the sheer spectacle I had just witnessed. I carried that feeling with me even when I found myself on the street outside the theatre, clutching my program all the way home. I’ve never felt quite the same way after watching a streamed show.
Theatregoing is an event in itself, one I’ve always held dearly ever since I was small, when my parents would take us on the train into the nearest city to watch the latest musical that had arrived on tour. There are so many rituals around watching live performances: finding the venue, taking your seat, whispering until the lights go down, directing your undivided attention to the actors on stage. All of that is lost when you watch a show through a screen.
Livestreamed theatre was already quite popular before the pandemic. In September 2019, Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s final performances as the eponymous Fleabag were livestreamed all over the world from Wyndham’s Theatre in London, courtesy of National Theatre Live. I went to see it in my local cinema. These performances go a long way to making high-quality professional theatre accessible for audiences in terms of cost and location; a cinema ticket is much cheaper than a theatre one, especially for something as highly sought-after as Fleabag, and people all over the world get to watch it. They are an excellent substitute when live performances are not possible, but they are not the same.
It’s probably fair to say that the most high-profile theatre recording lately has been, of course, Hamilton on Disney+. I was lucky enough to see the Broadway production last year, so watching the recorded version made for an interesting comparison. I was, as I had been during the live performance, captivated from start to finish because Hamilton is such an engaging show. I loved it, and it was a pleasure to watch it in my living room, but the all-consuming feeling I got from the live show wasn’t there.
On one hand, it’s amazing to have the actors’ faces so close, but at the same time, the angles of the shots took away what is for me one of the highlights of being in the audience: not knowing where to look. Live on stage so much is happening that it’s a challenge to take it all in, but in a film version, you can’t see anything out of shot. Being able to watch Hamilton, again and again, to pause and rewind is a privilege, but we sacrifice the thrill of live theatre in the process.
Recorded performances might help to save an industry from collapse and bring outstanding performances to the masses, but they are not a replacement for the real thing. Recordings will continue to attract audiences during the pandemic and beyond, just as they did before, but live theatre isn’t going anywhere. When it returns, we will be ready to take our seats and watch the lights go down.