Can theatre critics close shows?

The first scene from The Prom sums it up best – jubilant after an opening night, a Broadway company heads to drinks at Sardi’s for celebrations and revels. But the festivities are cut short by stinker reviews from the critics and the move to pull the plug on the production shortly after.

Theatre criticism has a fascinating place within the arts ecosystem. A show’s initial set of performances, named previews, all build towards “opening night” – when a small group of individuals (and rarely a diverse bunch) come into a press performance (either on the night itself or the days before) and have to publicly proclaim whether a production is “good” or “bad”, almost always accompanied by a star rating. Perhaps illogically, they have to pigeonhole the subjective experience of engaging with the arts into some objective scale from one to five.

There’s something endearingly nonsensical about the process, perhaps, but that doesn’t mean criticism isn’t a vital aspect of the overall theatre community. Critics aren’t simply there to judge – they also document a show’s creative choices, company members’ performances and add a degree of permanence to the fleeting, transient medium of live entertainment. They are near-essential for programmers, agents and casting directors – giving new and daring theatremakers a platform to be celebrated. Losing sustained and widespread theatrical criticism would be a hammer blow for the community.

On Broadway, bad notices from the New York Times can sometimes (though less so than they used to) be the death knell for a show – a curtailed run would almost always surely follow. The West End is slightly different – the fixation on one single publication doesn’t really exist, and without the same hierarchy, the critical response is much more varied. A show can, and often does, pick up a two-star review from somewhere like The Times, but a five-star rave from another national publication.

So can critics in the UK really close shows through damning reviews? The evidence doesn’t really tip into the critics’ favour – shows like The Enfield Haunting or Lyonesse were greeted with relatively dire reviews, but the star power of Catherine Tate, Lily James or Kristin Scott Thomas kept them busy throughout their runs.

Even shows like the Sheridan Smith-led Opening Night, shuttering ahead of time, can’t exactly prove bad reviews can close shows – despite some iffy notices from some parties (WhatsOnStage’s Sarah Crompton included), it had its champions like The Guardian, Metro or Time Out, who admired its tenacious ambition and unorthodox interpretation of the musical form. At the same time, productions like 2023’s Aspects of Love faced critical bruising, which arguably played its part in halting the piece’s Lyric Theatre stay.

Interestingly, critics may squander a show’s progress during its nascent stages – a series of dire notices for a production’s first run may stymy any transfer hopes, so arguably “closing” it ahead of where producers had hoped it’d get.

However, what feels more likely is that critics frequently sum up punters’ general consensus towards a production. As much as star ratings are hugely important for marketing and press material, word of mouth is vital. If audiences aren’t recommending shows to others, hype dies like a candle without oxygen. Nights out at the theatre are a huge investment, after all. Having met many critics in my time, I’m certain that whatever is printed in columns after opening night is far less savage than what is being discussed by spectators over a pint three streets away from the venue after 11pm, or on the Bakerloo line back to the train station.

Critics can therefore act as the weather vane for public sentiment. But of course, sometimes they go completely against the grain – take shows like We Will Rock You, or Wicked – both received tepid (at best, viciously spiteful at worst) reactions from the critics, but have gone on to be blockbuster successes.