Mission Critical: A Critic's Response

Chris O'Rourke
16 hours ago
5 min read

Mission Critical. Image uncredited.

I’d intended to weave this into my end of year review. But then I remembered I touched upon similar issues in last year's end of year review. Also, reading Jimmy Fay’s abridged speech in The Irish Times last week gave me additional pause for thought. Maybe it needed a space of its own.

I’m referring, of course, to The Abbey Theatre’s Mission Critical. A day long, one night stand, co-presented with The Irish Times, to discuss the future of theatre criticism. As I couldn’t stick around for cuddles afterwards, having personal matters to attend to, I missed the final two talks. But on the basis of what went before, we didn’t give a great account of ourselves. Talk of star ratings and pressing deadlines dominating over more pressing concerns. The assumption of value and the given of professional distance left mostly unquestioned. The rote challenging of privileged, middle class males sounding moot given that eight of the ten speakers at that point had been privileged, middle class women. Living legends, or self-professed dinosaurs, Fintan O’Toole and Ben Brantley, reduced to a reminiscing ramble down memory lane absent a legacy.

Despite kudos to The Irish Times and The Abbey Theatre, there was an undercurrent of irony. The irony lost on no one that the illustrious Irish Times, for decades the bastion of Irish theatre criticism, doesn’t appear to have a dedicated theatre critic. Its gig economy model leaving the event to import The Guardian’s chief theatre critic, Arifa Akbar, for some requisite authority. Who, along with host Ruth McGowan, spoke smartly and eloquently. As did the endlessly graceful Helen Meany and the no nonsense Katy Hayes. Jimmy Fay’s speech reminding us of the love-hate tension between critics and artists. Of cramped bedsits packed with anxious companies waiting up till the nervous hours for hot off the press, first night, early morning newspaper reviews. A relatively recent long ago pressing against a digital dystopia not so far away.

What emerged was criticism not as a career, much less a vocation, but as a desperate spinning of one of many monetising plates. A side gig for work light journalists, fitful freelancers, or idle academics, with content compressed to a few hundred words confined to a given production. The future belonging to Substack influencers posting social media love ups behind paywalls whilst proclaiming to hell with deadlines. Again, I missed the final two sections, but models of engagement from other medias often sounded like mechanics giving advice on the best way to raise chickens. Even though podcasts have proven a viable option, too often the important was losing out to the urgent.

Still, points were made even if the case for survival was not. Take the given of professional distance. The old journalistic chestnut that you cannot talk with those you write about, the bias often cutting both ways. Yet how can you have critical conversations if artists and critics are not talking to each other? How can artists challenge your concerns unless you’re speaking with them? How can you know theirs unless you’re listening? It’s not like a surgeon operating on a family member; we’re all adults here. And, as Mission Critical proved, we've a lot to learn from each other.

Take an issue that frequently arises; that reviews, the brevity and quality of which is sometimes lamented, are not enough, ignoring many pressing concerns facing theatre. Like the closure of The Complex and the dearth of venues. Funding and the torturous application process. Programming. Gender imbalance. Development hell with nowhere to go. Questionable quality and curated favouritism. Opportunities for young critics. The lack of meaningful awards. The endless dissolving of brilliant companies. The shelving of experienced artists. The difficulties starting or sustaining a career. Actors as writers and the impact on playwriting. Art being colonised by activism. Exclusivity being masked as inclusivity. Invisibility masked as visibility. Accessibility singing to no one but the choir. Add your own.

Whenever possible The Arts Review tries highlight issues, and knows others who would love to be able to do the same. But I’m aware The Arts Review occupies a unique and, for most, a completely untenable position. A one person operation that isn't looking to monetise itself. Personally, it's not worth the cost, which would be negligible at best. A movie or an album review can generate hits in the tens, possibly hundreds of thousands across a global audience making it viable to monetise, especially in cities with vast populations. Theatre criticism in Ireland does not, and never will, enjoy a comparable audience. Also, if you’ve ever tried cook from an online recipe, you know the nightmare of pop-up ads and banners interrupting every other second. I’d rather produce The Arts Review for free than waste time chasing what would be a measly pay day. Especially as I’m not restrained by editorial oversight, though some might wish I was. Leaving me free to review in depth, to speak to a variety of issues for not having a horse in the race, and never having to worry about word restriction. Of course, that means The Arts Review can be dismissed as an outlier of the mainstream. A well meaning amateur unaffiliated with respectable, recognised legacy organisations. Even as others see that as a plus. Either way, I leave the work to speak for itself.

Vital and critical as rigorous reviews are, critics can do more than review productions. We can give voice to concerns about, and on behalf of the community that those in the community are often fearful of voicing, or sometimes don’t want to hear. Speaking for, with, and to them rather than at them. Criticism has no inherent right to exist. It must give value, provoke critical conversations. Tynan and Shaw employed criticism as an extension of theatre's art form rather than as a journalistic discipline far removed from it. It might well be that, like Mission Critical, it’s better if we’re all talking going forward.

Critics. One part ecstatic child, one part grumpy git, one part prophet in the wilderness crying the Emperor’s showing his dangly bits. Like most critics I believe criticism is crucial, and valuable, and put my time and money where my mouth is. Yes, the financial rewards are negligible. Yes, I’m the voice of a well preserved, middle aged male (no, no need to clarify), but I try include diverse young critics who have a lot to say whenever possible. Yes, I am privileged. It is a privilege to be a critic and getting to see so much fascinating work. Yes, I know being a theatre critic is no longer a viable career choice. But having previously written for a syndicated, online US magazine, it was never lucrative even on its best days. Still, criticism has value beyond being a document of record or informed publicity. It can inform debates that shape theatre's future thereby justifying its existence. The question is, how much are legacy medias prepared to support that? Critics need to be paid. But if value is conflated with cost and reduced to monetised clicks and hits, it likely means trouble.

On their best day, a critic can be the smartest person in the room. Once every twenty-seven years by my calculations. I, myself, am overdue a smart moment any day now. Yet even then, the best critics seek out the room with smarter people. There were a lot of smart people in the room at Mission Critical. Hopefully it leads to a second date. Who knows, maybe even to a long term relationship. Allowing criticism to move past the nostalgia of what was, past a troubled what is that is often little more than tokenism, towards something meaningful, fruitful and enduring. On behalf of all critics, a sincere thank you to The Irish Times and The Abbey Theatre for getting the discussion rolling. Here’s hoping the discussion continues. Critics, too, are deserving of criticism. Which, like our reviews, should come from a place of love for what’s best in theatre so we all learn and grow.