Three cheers for booing in the theatre

In the theatre, to boo is taboo. There was an exception last week when Andrew Lloyd Webber’s name was booed by the crowd at the final performance of his musical Cinderella after a letter written by him to the cast, in which he called the show a ‘costly mistake’, was read out on stage. But that’s rare. Outside of panto season, the West End generally prefers a play to be received in a sepulchral hush.

It’s curious that booing is absent from modern theatre, because it’s as old as European drama. The earliest reports of audience booing were recorded at the annual festival of Dionysus in Athens where playwrights competed to win prizes for their efforts. The verdict was delivered by the crowds who howled (that is, booed) at the worst dramas and cheered for the best.

Nowadays we save our boos for politicians. The Platinum Jubilee sparked a new interest in the ramifications of booing. Nearly all the guests arriving at St Paul’s for the thanksgiving service were cheered by the crowd, but it was the negative heckles that got the most attention. Boris Johnson was booed. The Duke and Duchess of Sussex attracted a few derogatory noises too. The televised recordings of these honking sounds were repeated and commented on endlessly. It fostered a whole new field of expertise: booing analysis. Self-styled consultants clashed over the intensity and duration of the boos aimed at Boris and made comparisons between his reception and the jeers directed at Harry and Meghan.