No, it doesn't involve putting on a Hitler-inspired production. Not alwaysFlickr: N

The producer is an odd creature. They can usually be recognised by their tired air, mismatched clothes and constant attachment to a laptop. Their job is certainly very important – that of managing the budget, ensuring everything goes to schedule and liaising with everyone in the production team – but it also can be very bureaucratic. They don’t necessarily need to be at all the show’s rehearsals, and when they do, they often sit at the back, mumbling about Doodle polls. Despite its affectation of being the most important role within a theatrical team, ‘producer’ can at first glance appear a fragmentary and thankless job.

Although I have experience in producing shows for the ADC Theatre and Corpus Playroom, my experience has primarily been for sketch and comedy shows, which, being a bit homespun and ‘ropey’, mean that you can usually quickly solve any problems that come up in the production process. The highest-profile show I’ve produced was Santa is a Scumbag last week at the ADC – not quite the Footlights Pantomime or Lent Term Musical. And yet, I like to think that producing any show, no matter how small, teaches you valuable things about how theatre is put together, and I’d recommend anyone with an interest in drama to give it a go, whether they are a budding actor, techie, director, or anyone else.

The most fascinating thing about producing is accompanying the play from inception to delivery, from when it’s merely a twinkle in a director’s eye to the moment the curtain falls on the final performance (and then some time afterwards as you work out how much money you’ve spent). Apart from the director, there’s no other role in which you can view all of these stages, and it’s partly why producers tend to get very attached to the show that they’re working on (aside from the fact that they’re also trying to sell tickets). Far from being parasitic to the creative process, many producers, by being so involved in every aspect, end up being integral to the show’s direction, even if it is in decidedly minor ways. I’m very proud of the fact that I inspired Orlando Gibbs to mop the stage during his comedy show Who Am I?, though obviously I can’t take credit for the fact he delivered one of the most high-quality hours of stand-up I’ve seen here.

That’s producing in a nutshell, really: small and random tasks, like suggesting someone uses a mop, that seem absurd on their own but accumulate to create a finished product you hopefully feel proud of. There’s little that distinguishes it from other managerial professions: you have to count the pennies, create schedules, oversee cross-departmental communication and maintain a product’s public image. But there is one crucial detail that separates theatre production from similar types of roles, and that is the magic of theatre itself, the indescribable atmosphere that can only exist on or behind a stage, the almost scientific process of creating a supernatural illusion to convince an audience that something fake is real. The satisfaction one receives when a show they’ve produced is performed is worth every menial discussion about copyright and the logistics of the post-show get-out.

That satisfaction is common to most people no matter what their role is in the play, but as a producer one gets the added excitement of dealing with theatre at its most abstract and its most practical. Being a producer teaches you that a play is not conjured from thin air, a misconception other positions (even, rather worryingly, the director) can fall into. There’s an incredible amount of talking, thinking, building and shifting that goes into every performance one sees at Cambridge: the number of first aid injuries I’ve received while working on a show have made me aware that the phrase “blood, sweat and tears” is in no way an exaggeration. It’s the perfect job for someone who straddles the line between the artistic and practical, and it can help someone to become better at both. The next show I’m producing is an Edinburgh Fringe run of a show that I wrote, one that I would never have had the confidence to write were it not for my production and technical experience helping to see me what can and can’t be done in a play.

So if you’ve never produced before, but want to help create brand new theatre, then there’s nothing holding you back. Apply for the role of Assistant Producer for an ADC show, or as a Producer for a college or Playroom show. Diving in headfirst is the best (though scariest) way to start, though there are always people to ask for help.