Nice to read a refreshing take on the critic’s art:

It’s become a little embarrassing, frankly. I find myself answering the same handful of disgruntled questions, time and again, about how and why I dare to work as a theater critic. My favorite entreaties include “Why are you so mean?” (Because I can be) and “Don’t you care that theater people pour their hearts and souls into every production?” (Not particularly). Mostly people want to know how I could have possibly liked or disliked a particular show, or want to accuse me of having a personal vendetta against theater folk, because I reportedly do nothing but gripe about the shows I see.

And that’s just the first graf. The writer, who goes by the name Robrt L. Pela, is the theater critic at the Phoenix New Times, flagship paper of the now 16-paper chain, which also owns the Village Voice and the LA Weekly, and is a good example of the sort of thing that drives the chain’s detractors crazy. (Disclosure: I worked for New Times in the mid-’90s.) It’s the kind of essay that would never be printed in the Village Voice.

Local theater criticism is one critical venue where the work of one writer, generally at the local daily, has virtually complete hegemony over the health of any one production. The whys and wherefores of this are often overstated. It basically comes down to the fact that a swing of a few hundred customers can make or break a production, and a paper with a few hundred thousand in circulation can persuade or dissuade that number fairly easily with a well-worded rave or a quick pan. (Local dailies can also kill just by lack of attention, of course.)

As a consequence, the reviews of daily critics tend to range from raves to apologetic demurrals. The alternatives are usually left to fill in the blanks and shoot the deserving fish in the local barrel. It’s a fun but sometimes thankless endeavor; Pela doesn’t say it, but in the long run it’s also good for the health of the local scene.