
Playing the Star Ratings Game at Fringe Festivals: The Theatre Makers’ Ethical Dilemma
Shady Fringe Reflections in Pavilion Gardens
I’m just sharing some thoughts here in Pavilion Gardens Cafe, a fringe venue, number one here at Brighton Fringe, but also the regular headquarters when the weather allows of Fringe Review. And I’m just reflecting on a conversation I had recently, which really gets to the heart of the problematic ethics of being a performer, a theatre maker particularly, I would say, in fringe festivals and on the fringe scene.
The Torn Artist: Passion Versus Profit
And it’s the idea that somehow an artist is both creating art from passion and from a creative urge that does not begin and end with the notion of being commercial, being in a profit and loss situation, being driven by money. And then the other side of it is exactly that, that the artist is well aware of what the costs are of their performance, their production, that they need to make a profit. Otherwise they can’t pay their rent and they can’t do all the beautiful things that they might want to do in their life that require money.
And so you end up in this torn situation, trying to find some sort of middle ground between being commercial and being noncommercial. Feeling yourself in a place where being noncommercial is somehow being naive, and not deserving of success because you’re not a realist. And a realist is about covering your costs and making a surplus or a profit.
And then there are people in there, too, who think that there’s a false dichotomy there, that, of course, art is as commercial as anything. And one part of art, for example, is making computer games or making films and needing to sell tickets and make money and be able to go on nice holidays or be able to fund further work.
The Impact of Defunded Culture
And so the problem with that is that that is a bit of a fractured set of arguments that have converged on the arts, particularly in recent years, where funding has gone down and down and down and funding applications for money that there is require you to answer questions that frame you very much as some sort of commercial organisation that’s providing a return or value for the money that’s given to you.
Now, the only reason I’m doing that backdrop, rather than making judgements about it, it was the conversation that I overheard and one that I was in actually as well, quite a few times during my time at fringe festivals. And that is the idea that we have to behave commercially, whether we like it or not.
A Performer’s Compromise
And in this particular example, it’s somebody who got a five star review from a reviewer who is known to give mostly four and five star reviews for whatever reasons are personal to them, but they’re clearly popular for it. And what that means is somebody walks away with a five star review. But by their own admission, because I overheard it and in similar conversations, the person is saying, I know my show is not that good. My show is at the earliest stage of its journey, and I’m learning my way into this and I’m open for feedback.
And so I’m making quite a, I would say sometimes these days courageous decision, which is to be honest and raw and put my work in front of audiences with the expectation that it’s not perfect and it’s going to develop and improve. And that’s why I’m doing it, maybe at a smaller fringe festival to see how it lands before I might take it further.
But what I’m forced to do in order not to go bankrupt is to put those five stars all over my posters and try and get people in as if that show is far better than it actually is. And I put the quotes from that review, even knowing that my show isn’t as good as that. And quite often people create convenient narratives that maybe it’s better because look at that review. But in a lot of cases, that review is a rogue review.
And it’s not often from publications I guess that would give those stars away so easily as this particular website has done, that’s given the five star review. And so when you talk to the person, they’re very clear, that performer, that theatre maker, that they are making a compromise that is known to them, which is they’re actually saying that this restaurant’s food, that this product’s reviews are better than the product really is.
Ethics on the Line
And I’m not telling you that because I have to or because I want to. Because ultimately let the buyer beware. They might find out later, but I’ll have their ticket money in the bank. And it’s a tough world, and I’m competing with other shows the same day. And how do I get them in without that five star review on my posters? And that’s inevitable and that’s necessary.
But actually, when I overheard the conversation, I’m not really at ease with it. But I have no choice, and any choices I make are going to have severe financial consequences.
The Risk of Overhype
And I just want to point out that the danger of that is when you dig something up that then turns out to be not as big. You can get annoyed audiences, you can pass your reputation on as there’s no way this was a five star show. You can then, because of the five stars, attract reviewers in who might know more what they’re looking at. And in the end, you end up with one or two star reviews because you’ve drawn attention to yourself. And that one or two stars is from a much bigger publication, and that will sit on your search engine’s results, and you might regret it in the longer run.
And I’ve certainly heard those stories happening, too, up in the Edinburgh Fringe. I mean, they’re almost fake websites that people create just to be able to put those stars on. And so some people do that in an unashamed way.
High Integrity Alternatives
But the conversation I overheard was with somebody who was not at ease with it, clearly not at ease with it. And in this particular case, I’d been to see that show and was able to do what Fringe Review does, for better or worse, which is offer some private feedback which seemed to be gobbled up and taken in very great detail, down as notes. And somebody in this case, the reviewer for us, gave that feedback and felt it had been responded to and would improve that show.
Now there’s the problem. On one side I would call it high integrity, truthful, honest, open, accepted, trusted feedback. And what might happen is that work will improve and then Fringe Review might go along or another publication and give it a well deserved four stars or five stars or whatever. We don’t do stars, some rating about highly recommended or must see. And what happens is because it deserves it, and because the person has taken that feedback on, the show is all the better for it.
And then when it does get its five star reviews from somebody, particularly hopefully a bigger publication that could have more oomph and influence out there, that there’s belief in the show and audiences that go and reviewers that go confirm the excellence of that show.
A Risky Game With Long Term Costs
And so I guess part of what I’m saying is there is a risk, a business risk like there is in any market to faking up your show. And if you get a review rather than explaining it away and excusing it as well, you know it’s a review. If you know your show’s not that good, it might be better to hold off on those stars and not just behave like a corporation that just has to play the rules of the game.
And I certainly know people that went into art to have that honesty with themselves and others and would never play that game. They’re increasingly more and more people are.
What Kind of Artist Are You Becoming?
Do you think I’m overreacting? Do you think this is coming across as a bit? Although as a security guard goes by, looking behind dark glasses seems to be judging me in some way. That’s a joke.
That ultimately, do you think that this is an unnecessary dialogue? We just have to accept now that the rules of the jungle, the rules of business, as those horrible phrases often come out, are rules we have to follow in the arts?
Over the many years I’ve been covering fringe and making fringe, I have to say that the people I believe that are more satisfied in the long run with their art and have done better, have been people who don’t play that game one bit. And they will only put on their posters what they believe to be true, confirmed by a reviewer, rather than playing the game of, well, kind of business like deception in order to sell tickets.
It’s a bit like selling a car that looks good on the outside, but when you get in, it doesn’t even start properly. But maybe, you know, that car has already been sold and it’s too late because you’ve done a runner as the car seller, and it’s not the way that many people I know want to live.
The Posters Don’t Lie, Do They?
So just to finish with sitting here in the middle of Brighton Fringe, where it’s coming into the last week now, Brighton doesn’t have as many star ratings on posters, but certainly the posters that come here come from elsewhere. And what I notice is the stars are huge and the publication is often tiny, like the small print in a mobile phone contract.
So what is to be done?
I think the first thing is to stop pretending you are not making a choice. You are. And that choice, whether to use those inflated stars, whether to let a rogue review define your marketing, whether to pitch your show as more than it currently is, that choice sits with you. And once you own it as a choice, you can start asking yourself what kind of artist you want to be. Not in some lofty idealistic way, but in a very grounded sense, that helps you sleep at night, that lets you look people in the eye, and that lets you enjoy your work and keep going without bitterness creeping in
And maybe it is about finding your own line, even if it is a shaky one, and saying no further. Maybe you say, I will include that review, but I will also be transparent that this is early work. Maybe you stop chasing stars altogether and start chasing trust, feedback, a sense of progress. You start seeing success not as selling out a room because the poster glitters, but because someone came and stayed afterwards to talk, to say something landed. You find peace not in the game but in stepping aside from it, even while it plays on all around you
Some Questions I Am Still Pondering On.
Should artists ever knowingly mislead audiences through promotional material, even if it’s common industry practice?
Can a show’s integrity survive the long-term consequences of early overpromotion?
Does playing the commercial game inevitably erode the core values that drew artists to the fringe in the first place?
In a defunded arts culture, is there still room for honesty without financial collapse?
When does artistic compromise become self-betrayal, and who ultimately decides that threshold?
So, what about you?
Paul Levy is the founder and editor of FringeReview