Dancing in the Aisles

There seems to be a new phenomenon in musical theatre audiences. The ‘get up and dance’ phenomena. It’s not unusual for somebody who’s seen Grease for the umpteenth time to sing along to Summer Nights. But it’s annoying, right? What about when people get up and dance in the aisles?

The new musicals based on cult movies or the opus of seventies pop groups have created something new – an audience that responds as they would at a live concert. It’s a form of Postmodernism: it’s not necessarily the play, it’s the consciousness of its cult status, creating a new form of live theatre and a new reaction.

However, there is a conflicting issue. More traditional or sedate audience members choose not to get up and dance. They simply want to watch and let the performers entertain them (“it’s what I paid my £40 for!”). This is understandable too. So how do you keep the two parties happy?

Bring on the Usher.

As exponents of excellent customer service it is the Front-of-House duty to keep the client happy. And all’s going well – on stage the music’s playing, the dancers are mid-routine, the singers are in full chorus and the song is instantly recognisable – in the auditorium some begin to clap their hands; others join; interactive singing starts; a few stand up and dance...

Now the audience start to enjoy themselves a little too much. Now some disgruntled members of the audience turn to the usher. They glare at you. You know what that means. They are insisting you sort out these reprobates. Get them to stop dancing, stop singing, to SIT DOWN!

The Front-of-House staff become the theatre equivalent of the school Hall Monitor. We turn from friendly ticket-checker to strict disciplinarian. We’ve said “have fun… oh no, no, no, stop having fun.”

This is the twenty-first century audience; the X Factor crowd. This is their musical, their teenage songs and characters, and they are here to revel and rave in their memories. To keep them quiet would be like trying to keep a group of schoolgirls quiet on a visit to the set of Hollyoaks!

Who can blame them? The Front-of-House team are told to sell, sell, sell drinks during the incoming and sell, sell, sell drinks in the interval (“you can take drinks into the auditorium, madam.”) By the middle of the second half, clusters of tipsy forty-year-olds throw off all inhibitions and become teenagers again. Then the team that sold them the drinks are reprimanding them for being drunk and enjoying themselves too much.

The consequence is that the good old Front-of-House assistant is thrown into the lion’s den. Keep smiling while you tell people “don’t enjoy yourself quite as much as you’d like – or we’ll call security.”