Am Dram: the world’s most lethal hobby

QUESTORS, JESTERS AND RENEGADES by Michael Coveney (Bloomsbury £25, 216pp)

Michael coveney says, in a statistic that stretches credulity, that there are 2,500 amateur dramatic societies in Britain, putting on 35,000 productions a year in disused cinemas, chapels, barns and converted nissen huts.

The most spectacular venue is the Minack in cornwall, carved from a cliff. ‘There is a coffee shop, exhibition centre and decent toilet facilities,’ says coveney, who has clearly done his research.

amateur theatricals were always popular as country house revels and in schools, the armed services and universities.

They particularly thrived (and continue to do so) in middle-class, suburban environments. indeed, one of the glories of this pursuit is the preservation of a traditional culture otherwise vanishing, like steam trains or pageantry. coveney makes the excellent point that — thanks to commercial theatres’ preference for musicals and experimental rubbish — it is often only on the amateur stage that audiences can find and enjoy classics such as J.B. Priestley, J.M. Barrie and, increasingly, Shakespeare.

a lot of well-known actors were first bitten by the bug at their local amateur dramatic society — anthony hopkins and Michael Sheen at the yMca in Port Talbot; Michael Gambon, an apprentice engineer, in Bexleyheath; Ben Kingsley in Salford. leonard Rossiter was an insurance salesman in liverpool for years before becoming a pro.

Ross noble, looking back at his formative days in newcastle, says: ‘Doing things at the weekend which all week at school you would get mocked for was a total joy.’

Dame Flora Robson only escaped the conveyor belt at the Shredded Wheat factory in Welwyn Garden city by forming her own troupe, in 1923. Kenneth Branagh says he learned the value of discipline by joining The Progress Theatre in Reading, becoming part of ‘a hive of feverish activity and organisation’.

Throughout his study, coveney is careful not to be patronising, and quotes with approval Sir ian McKellen’s noble opinion that ‘the amateur theatre is the rock, the foundation, upon which is built the theatre of our time’.

Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, but in my experience the actors who most look like actors are the glorious amateurs, who seem to be in it for the sheer escapism. They sport silk cravats and camel-hair coats draped over their shoulders. Purple fedoras are not uncommon and they have a tendency to overdo the stage make-up.

These would-be exhibitionists, when not