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Why do we Assume Popular is Synonymous with Bad?

By Samantha Lane

When I was invited to give a provocation on Theatre for, by and with young people at the ITC conference earlier this year, I wasn’t sure where to begin. Theatre for Young Audiences (TYA) faces no shortage of challenges: chronic underinvestment, limited critical recognition, capped ticket prices, falling school attendance, touring barriers, and a shortage of skilled practitioners, or at least of those who stay with the work and see it as more than a stepping stone and genuinely believe in its value. It’s also often viewed as less important than theatre for adults, a perception that impacts both visibility and funding. So what, exactly, could I provoke?

A few months prior, when I was still engaging with the platform, I saw a post on X lamenting the number of Julia Donaldson stage adaptations, implying that their popularity was somehow to blame for the lack of new writing for young audiences. Not only did it pitch one against the other, it suggested that work that is popular is inherently lesser. And that’s what stuck with me. Beyond the logistical and financial challenges, there’s a more deep-rooted issue in the sector: snobbery and the persistent belief that popular equals poor quality. It’s a mindset that is not only damaging but divisive, creating a false hierarchy that weakens the sector from within.

At a time when TYA already fights for recognition and funding, internal snobbery is self-sabotage. The belief that only new and original work is artistically valid, while adaptations or well-known stories are somehow lesser, does a disservice to both artists and audiences. It fosters a culture where success is measured by obscurity, and where being widely loved is mistaken for lacking depth or value. And it assumes, patronisingly, that audiences need to be educated into “better” tastes rather than trusted to know what they enjoy.

This attitude not only alienates audiences but ignores an uncomfortable truth: if new and original work struggles to sell, perhaps it isn’t just a matter of exposure, perhaps people genuinely aren’t interested. And why should they be? There is comfort in the familiar. Children, in particular, find security in stories they already know, whether that’s The GruffaloMatilda, or The Lion King. Why should we be ashamed of giving them that experience?

At LAT, we’ve experimented with a mix of new work and adaptations. Time and again, the adaptations pack out our audiences, while the original pieces struggle to gain traction. That’s not a failure, it’s a reflection of what audiences want. Sometimes they take a risk on something unfamiliar, but more often than not, they gravitate towards the known. And why wouldn’t they? Just as adults return to their favourite films, books, or musicians, young audiences delight in stories they recognise. It doesn’t mean they’ll never broaden their horizons, only that they seek enjoyment in the present moment, just as we all do.

As creators of this work, we often assume that once an audience member experiences a popular production, they will develop trust in the venue and be willing to take a chance on a less familiar or riskier title. However, this is a naive assumption. It doesn’t hold true in adult theatre; many regular theatregoers, including friends of mine who frequent the West End, remain loyal to mainstream productions and wouldn’t naturally transition to more experimental work.  This pattern is even more pronounced in Theatre for Young Audiences. Just because a family or school attends a well-known, commercially successful production, it doesn’t mean they will naturally seek out more experimental work. Unlike adult audiences, children don’t typically drive theatre choices, it is the parents and teachers who are the gatekeepers, who, more often than not, opt for familiar titles they trust.

But this doesn’t mean popular work is of lesser value. The real challenge isn’t convincing audiences to abandon the mainstream but questioning why we treat mass appeal as a mark of artistic failure. If a show sells out, if audiences return to it again and again, if children light up at something familiar, why is that seen as a problem to fix rather than a success to embrace?

Theatre professionals often talk about creating the audiences of the future, but this too can be a patronising stance. Young audiences aren’t a training ground for some imagined future cultural elite; they are an audience in their own right. Some will grow up to love experimental or fringe theatre. Others will go to pantos or West End blockbusters. Some will abandon theatre entirely in favour of concerts, sports, or museums. And that’s fine. Our job isn’t to dictate their journey, it’s to create work that they enjoy now, at this moment in time.

Rather than dismissing popular work as lesser, we should recognise it for what it is: a testament to theatre’s enduring appeal. At a time when the industry is struggling and arts participation in schools is in freefall, why alienate audiences for embracing what they love? We should be celebrating them. Popular isn’t synonymous with bad. The real problem is that we’ve convinced ourselves that success is something to be suspicious of.