CURSE OF THE PHONE CAMERAS
Benedict’s right. From plays to pop concerts, they suck the joy out of every great experience
FOUR nights into his three-month run as Hamlet and Benedict Cumberbatch has i ssues. He’s had i t, chums. up to here.
On Saturday night at the stage door of the Barbican Centre in London, the actor made an appeal to fans to stop filming during the show.
Shall we ignore for a moment the irony of being filmed by fans on phone cameras while he was asking fans with phone cameras to stop filming him? Yes. Because the illicit recording of any live performance on a phone or tablet is a real problem for theatre-goers and actors alike, one that is getting steadily worse.
I was in the audience at the Hamlet first night preview last week, where fans excitedly filmed, snapped, uploaded and posted online every tiny moment — even before the curtain came up.
They were also busy during the interval with selfie sticks and immediately after the show with the group shots and the I-woz-here grins.
Most were extremely well behaved during t he actual performance, though footage and grainy photographs have emerged of that and subsequent shows.
This urgent need to share what should be a private and special collective moment between audience and performer, between spectator and protagonist, has become one of the blights of modern life.
In the darkness of the stalls or the hush of the circle, the flashing lights of electronic devices is distracting enough for those of us looking at the stage — f or t he actors onstage it must be a complete nightmare.
It is a selfish practice that can kill the atmosphere the cast are so painstakingly trying to create — while firing a blazing cannonball through the sails of our suspended belief.
Indeed, Cumberbatch politely told fans at the stage door that not only is he being put off during his Hamlet performance by people filming with their phones and cameras, he also finds the experience of this ‘mortifying’.
‘ I can see red l i ghts i n the auditorium,’ said the Sherlock and Imitation Game star.
‘There’s nothing less supportive or enjoyable as an actor being on stage experiencing that and I can’t give you what I want to give you, which is a live performance that you’ll remember hopefully in your minds and brains, whether it’s good, bad or indifferent, rather than on your phones.’
Ay, there’s the rub. Some might dismiss his concerns as the sanctimonious blatherings of an arch luvvie who wants us to worship every tic and spit of his bedraggled, sweaty Hamlet — or else. Some might argue that if theatres are going to parachute Hollywood stars i nto t heir productions, then excitable fans snapping away in the stalls is the price they have to pay.
However, I applaud his stance, which seems good-hearted and is taken for all the right reasons, instead of merely protecting his personal commercial interests. For surely the essence of any live performance is that it is a unique experience, a sacred pact between the watched and the watchers.
Why go to all the trouble of getting a ticket for Hamlet — the hottest show in town — if you are not going to watch it properly?
What is the point of taking yourself off to the theatre and instead of focusing your attentions on this demanding play, watching it on a tiny, teeny iPhone screen as you film it instead?
I’ll tell you what the point is: the point is that you are part of the me-me-me generation who see even the grandest artistic endeavour, any wonder of the natural world or astonishing event only as a backdrop to the glory of your own fabulous self.
Prince, Madonna and Beyonce are among those performers who have tried to ban camera phones at their gigs. Yes, the same Beyonce who uploaded snaps of herself posing in front of the Mona Lisa while visiting the Louvre in Paris last year. Mortifying.
However, invading the privacy of a performance is all part of the narcissistic culture that beats at the heart of social media. It is pandering to the ego monster that has to be fed with fresh images and piping hot selfies every second of every day. There i s no s ense of wonder at the artistic experience, no appreciation of being in the moment. I nstead, t here is only the rush to impress by posting on Facebook, Instagram and Snapchat, by uploading without delay onto Twitter or Pinterest. Those who live their lives through the vanity prism of social media can no longer simply enjoy themselves — they have to be seen to be enjoying themselves or else the experience is not valid. All this in an electronic cauldron where, if you are not seen doing something thrilling and enviable, then you are boring. It is not just in the theatre. These days, no public event is complete without a forest of arms in t he air clutching phones, cameras and even
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