In January 2018, Varsity announced a new anonymous reviewing system. In August 2018, TCS published an eloquent article by Gabriel Humphreys in defence of non-anonymous reviewing (link at the bottom of the article). As a theatre editor this term, I was intrigued. Humphreys argues that anonymity has become at best an impersonal disruption to the balance between artist and critic which is so fundamental to theatre, but at worst risks being a kind of shelter for the airing of personal grudges or best-friend praising.
Although I was not part of the team who implemented the anonymous reviewing system, its introduction I stand by its benefits. As Humphreys acknowledges, the point of reviews is to provide analysis, constructive criticism, an intellectual critique. For this, reviewing demands honesty, and anonymity allows reviewers to write freely and honestly without fear that, in such a closely-connected world as that of Cambridge Theatre, they will upset someone they know.
This anonymity, of course, does not come without dangers. The system relies on reviewers having integrity, backing up their praises and criticisms, and not using the review for personal means, be these positive or negative. It cannot be for praising your best friends or bashing your enemies. It can’t become a way of saying things you would be too afraid to say openly and under your own name. It cannot become a form of intellectual trolling.
I would argue that the anxiety that a negative review would be the result of petty bitterness from a cast-reject rather than, say, unavoidable bias from a reviewer (for example: a musical? I hate musicals!) becomes redundant with the intervention of an energetic editor. If a review is obviously unfair – destructive criticism, unsupported bile – it will not pass. There is, I would suggest, an clear difference between constructive critique and unfounded attack: ‘Juliet was played unconvincingly, as her character was not developed sufficiently from the opening scenes, and so by the climax I was not invested in her struggle’ seems to be reasonable, constructive comment, as does would ‘the lighting seemed at times a little melodramatic, and the effect could have been drastically improved if the lighting changes were more gradual’; ‘the part of Juliet was poorly acted’ or just ‘the lighting didn’t work’ does would not. There should always be something concrete that the cast and crew can take away from the review and consider for next time; there should not be just a sense that their show is beyond saving. I think the best aspect of Humphreys’s article is the reminder to the editors to redouble their vigilance and hold reviewers accountable.
Moreover, I think the system is working effectively. A review of the archives of two terms of anonymous reviews shows, first, that there really has not been a spike in negative reviews. In fact, quite the opposite. Of 82 reviews published between January and June 2018, only five were given fewer than 3 stars, and none fewer than 2. Perhaps we have unearthed a different problem – that the starring system is being used too generously and does not adequately distinguish between the great and the merely good. Reading the reviews in more detail, I think it is safe to say that while the reviewers did were not afraid to criticise aspects of the shows, in each case there was an obvious effort made to point out positive features as well as negatives, to draw attention to particularly sensitive acting, moments of particular hilarity or beauty, to talk about potential that was restricted by the script, or to suggest changes to set and costume that would have made the show fly. I think that this demonstrates that editors at least are diligent. Ultimately, every review should contain enough that the reader should want to go and see the show for themselves, and each of these reviewers has certainly tried to balance this with nuanced and intellectual analysis. The editors have been doing their jobs, then. Editors are so important that perhaps putting their names at the bottom of anonymous reviews should be considered.
I would suggest, too, that a certain responsibility falls to the readers; by which I don’t mean, of course, that the reader has to have a high level of understanding of the play to read between the lines of an anonymous review, but that they have a choice to make after reading it. One could read a second review in TCS, talk to others who have been to see the show and listen to their opinions, or, most informatively, they could go and see the show and make up their own mind. The individual reviewer, be they a named individual or an anonymous reviewer for Varsity, is not the only voice we can hear.
Anonymous reviewing does carry potential risks. It relies on the integrity and sensitivity of both reviewer and editor alike to maintain a constructive tone which doesn’t veer off into unsupported bile. Yet looking at evidence from a two-term trial of this system suggests that anonymity in fact improves reviews’ quality, allowing them to be more discerning and more honestly critical while largely avoiding Humphreys’ pitfalls.
Published in Varsity, August 2018: https://www.varsity.co.uk/opinion/16035