Theatre critic Kenneth Tynan wryly commented, “A critic is a man who knows the way but can’t drive the car.” His self-deprecating analogy sheds light on some of the issues surrounding the symbiotic relationship between theatre and theatre reviews. A line will inevitably emerge between the people who make art (those that drive the car) and the people that critique it (those that don’t); in other words the thespians and the journalists. Obviously, these are not distinct categories – many reviewers have practical experience and many practitioners have written about theatre. The most astute critics tend to be the playwrights themselves.

However there is a tendency to dismiss criticism as a creative art form. In Steven Frears’ film High Fidelity (2000), John Cusack’s lonely, cynical music snob who owns a Chicago record store is rather disparagingly called ‘a critic, a professional appreciator’ by his on and off girlfriend. The implication of both above quotes being something along the lines of ‘those who can, do; those who can’t, teach.’ Reviewing is a craft comparable to acting, producing or directing; each of these roles requires a specific skill set that people can choose to hone during their time at university. True, it doesn’t require six weeks of rehearsal, admin and sleepless nights; this article in no way intends to diminish the creative efforts that go into the production of shows. If critics didn’t love and appreciate theatre, they probably wouldn’t be there. However, like all journalism, a review is an original composition in its own right; a piece of writing that is carefully constructed to stimulate debate and conversation.

It is just as important to encourage reviewing as it is to encourage theatre making in order to create a productive working dialogue between practitioners and journalists.

Being a theatre reviewer in Cambridge is not exactly the same as being William Hazlitt, George Bernard Shaw or even Lyn Gardner. You go to the ADC or Corpus Playhouse or wherever the play might be on. You pick up your free ticket and watch the show. You probably have a couple of drinks in the bar afterwards. You get home on slightly the wrong side of sober. You have roughly 500 words with which to write a decent piece of prose that fulfils the criteria before 10am the next morning. There are many ways to go about writing a review but here are a few useful starting points for writing about student theatre.

Firstly, you have to consider who you are writing for. A fundamental role of a review is to enable theatre-goers to make an informed decision about which shows to spend their money on. Since shows can cost upwards of £10 for a main-show now, this element is vital. Here is where the difference between a ‘review’ and slightly looser term ‘criticism’ comes into play. There are many types of theatre criticism and reviewing is just one of them. It is limited in that you do not have free reign to write an academic thesis on the work; instead you have a word count, a star rating and a duty to inform a potential audience. The key here is balancing your creativity and an objective approach. Draw out detail, informed commentary on the production at hand but do not hesitate to give it your honest opinion, and your own turn of phrase. For example, if reviewing a production of A Streetcar Named Desire, please resist waxing lyrical about the obscure canon of Tennessee Williams or attempting to become an amateur biographer of Marlon Brando in the space of 500 words. While this might be entertaining for you and would make an interesting read if the Varsity review section was the Guardian theatre blog, it is not particularly useful to the cast or potential audience members.

The second main readership of a review will be the cast and crew of the show. A reviewer has a platform to provide them with some important feedback. Always be honest: you are under no obligation to pretend a show was good. The actors (probably) will not hunt you down. However if you did not like something, you must say why. A bad review is like a bad essay: one which makes assertions without backing them up. Think about the people that spent weeks making the show and how their efforts have contributed to the overall effect; pay attention to the direction, set, props, lighting, sound, publicity, etc. Try not to backseat direct as you write; focus on what was there as opposed to what was absent in your opinion. Dismantling a show that you did not like is usually a much easier (and more entertaining) writing exercise; however it can be very difficult to write well about a successful show. Remember that your praise will certainly be read and very much appreciated, so if you do experience that transcendental night at the theatre, do give it the elusive five stars.

In terms of style, less is often more. While it is important for critics to develop a voice, do bear in mind that a review is not an academic essay to be read by a world expert. If you’ve just seen a really great Brecht play and want to talk about its effects, it is not always necessary to go on about the Verfremdungseffekt. Technical jargon can be as alienating as European theatrical devices. Save that for the dissertation. Explain what is happening on stage and how it works without sounding like you swallowed a drama textbook. By all means suit the word to the action: if writing about a comedy then a few quips could make for an good read, but make sure your own writing isn’t trying too hard to upstage the show.

Finally, when you are doing your write up, it is essential to have an awareness of genre, form and context. Obviously we can’t all be experts on avant-garde postmodern Icelandic puppetry, but if you are at all uncertain of information then at the very least Wikipedia the play. I was reviewing at the Edinburgh Fringe, and came across a review of Webster’s The Duchess of Malfi that opened with the grand statement:

“Christopher Marlowe’s limping attempt at a history play is a challenge to perform - the long dragging plot features plenty of sex, death, madness, incest and lycanthropy (yes, lycanthropy, why not?)”

All well and good, except that Marlowe didn’t write the play, it’s not a history, and “long, dragging plot” doesn’t quite add up with the following list which outlines pretty much all the ingredients of a cracking Jacobean tragedy.

So, why would someone choose to be a reviewer? Free tickets are a major draw. But for anyone who loves writing, literature and drama it is an opportunity to flex your creative, analytic and journalistic muscles. It encourages a critical eye for detail; when I review a show I look for important quotes and moments which really capture the spirit of the piece. It can be such a pleasure to write about a production that has really moved you in some way. Charles Spencer (recently retired from the Telegraph), summed up the obligations of a theatre critic: “Arrive sober, stay awake, stay to the end and don’t take a bribe unless it is big enough to allow you to retire in comfort for the rest of your life.”