I've been trying to figure something out (or maybe just put something into words) for a while now. It's about (one of the reasons) why I don't like shows that I don't like. I think that process has now come to a conclusion.

I'm slowly, but steadily, coming to a clearer understanding of what kind of theatre I want to make - or perhaps, rather, why I want to make theatre (and therefore what kind I want to make). Since my second year of uni, after working on two Shakespeare productions - an assistant director on Much Ado About Nothing and as lead director on Twelfth Night - I've known it's somehow involved acknowledging the audience. One of my favourite moments in Twelfth Night was where Andrew, Toby and Feste would serenade a front-row audience member during their nighttime knees-up; it elicited a somehow different kind of laughter from the audience, a different (good!) atmosphere in the room. But I've never been able to articulate exactly what I want to do, or why I think it's important, or precisely what it involves. And it feels like now, just as I'm starting out in the professional world, is an incredibly important time to be able to do just that.

I recently saw a production with a great script, great acting, great design - essentially, it consisted of some brilliant elements. But as the play carried on I started feeling unsatisfied somehow. The first word that came into my head was sterile, but obviously that doesn't get me very far so I've been turning it over in my mind ever since. 

My conclusion is this: the reason why, ultimately, I didn't like or enjoy the production is because I felt irrelevant to it. To the characters (and possibly, by extension, to the actors) onstage, I was insignificant, unimportant, irrelevant. They never acknowledged my existence, my being there didn't impact on what happened at all. I was an impotent observer and whilst what I was observing was some high quality writing and acting, I felt totally disengaged. The people onstage were doing something, and I was over here in my seat, doing another thing. Them and me. Separate. 

Now, I've seen many fourth-wall shows that I have enjoyed, and not felt disconnected when I watched them. Trying to figure out how they succeed where that show failed, and why I'd still rather not make those kind of shows, is trickier. But those shows, in subtle ways, did make me relevant. Not by talking to me or acknowledging that I was there, but in other ways. The staging of the Young Vic's A Doll's House meant that my position altered what I saw - in a play so concerned with secrets and deception, what was visible - what was revealed - depended on where I sat. I was prying into the rooms of people trying to keep their public and private lives separate, impacting on their aims by mere virtue of peering into the different rooms of their home. 

Maybe that's splitting hairs. Maybe it's cheating, trying to come up with a division that suits me but doesn't really hold up. Maybe I'm tired and ought not to try posting thoughtful blog entries at quarter to midnight. However, whilst I'm still working hard to articulate why I like certain productions, I feel confident about explaining why I don't like others. And that feels like a big step. It pushes me towards what I want to develop in my own work.

I'm happy to sit back, watch and be irrelevant to proceedings when watching TV or films. Not so much with theatre. Theatre's unique quality is having a group of people in a room (some may say two but I prefer to think of it as one), together, able to interact, able to affect what the other members of the group do. Sifting through the negatives can help give you a clearer view of what the positives are.