LONDON -- Do you want to act on a London stage? Unless you're a certified (and maybe certifiable) movie or TV star, such as this season's entrants -- Rob Lowe (about to appear in the belated West End premiere of "A Few Good Men"), David Schwimmer (just wrapping a run of Neil LaBute's "Some Girl(s)"), Brooke Shields (who recently finished a run as Roxie Hart in "Chicago" and is off to reprise the role on Broadway), Brian Dennehy (traveling the other direction to reprise his award-winning Broadway turn as Willy Loman in "Death of a Salesman"), Val Kilmer (currently starring in "The Postman Always Rings Twice"), Jane Krakowski (appearing as Miss Adelaide opposite Ewan McGregor's Sky Masterson in a revival of "Guys and Dolls"), and, of course, Kevin Spacey (who is both star and artistic director of the Old Vic, where he is currently appearing in "The Philadelphia Story") -- you're unlikely to walk straight into a West End role.
There is kudos attached to appearing in London, though the risks are also high: Fail here and your failure is broadcast internationally. New York Times chief theatre critic Ben Brantley makes regular transatlantic forays, and after his most recent one he wrote a report headlined "A Wave of Hot Movie Stars Leaves the West End Cold."
Life (and Rave Reviews) Beyond the West End
After citing a range of American and British film stars (and one Mexican, the hot young movie actor Gael GarcÃa Bernal) who failed to arouse much in the way of what he called "erotic lightning," Brantley proceeded to write: "To find a male screen star in full command of a stage, you would have had to venture into the small, airless Menier Theater at the Chocolate Factory in southeast London, where Neil Patrick Harris -- a popular television star in the 1990s as the boy doctor of 'Doogie Howser, M.D.,' who appeared on Broadway last year in Stephen Sondheim's 'Assassins' -- is showing how nicely he has grown up."
Neil Patrick Harris was appearing at the time at this small fringe theatre in the U.K. premiere of Jonathan Larson's posthumously produced Off-Broadway hit "Tick, Tick...Boom!" (He has since had to return to the United States to begin filming a new TV series and has been replaced by another American actor, Christian Campbell, who actually has a British passport.) The Menier Chocolate Factory is the same venue that last year hosted the U.K. premiere of another Off-Broadway hit, "Fully Committed," with American actor Mark Setlock reprising his original New York performance; Setlock and the show subsequently transferred to the West End's Arts Theatre.
All of which proves that there's more to theatrical life in London than the West End. In the complex ecology of London theatre, there is a whole world beyond Shaftesbury Avenue, just as there is a universe beyond Broadway. But while New York theatre has long been divided into three distinct strata of operation -- Broadway, Off-Broadway, and Off-Off-Broadway -- the divisions in London aren't so clear-cut or easy to understand, either for audiences or prospective performers. Time Out, the weekly listings magazine, has tried to impose some order on the chaos by mimicking the New York model and dividing its listings into West End, Off West End, and Fringe, but these are entirely artificial designations.
Defining the West End and Fringe
Even the West End is strictly meaningless as either a geographical or ideological term, since Time Out embraces such theatres as the Lyric in Hammersmith (west London, a few miles out of the center) as well as Richmond Theatre and the Wimbledon Theatre (both in southwest London) in its West End section.
But there is another possible definition: A theatre can be designated part of the West End if it is a member of the Society of London Theatre -- a trade body not unlike the League of American Theatres and Producers, which regulates Broadway and touring interests. Appearing in a member theatre means qualifying for consideration for the annual Laurence Olivier Awards presented by the Society, just as the League defines eligibility for the Tony Awards.
By this reckoning, producing houses like the National, even though it is across the river from the West End on the South Bank of the River Thames, or the 250-seat Donmar Warehouse, even though it is intimate enough for Time Out to call it Off West End, would compete on the same playing field as the commercial houses of the West End. Yet there are exceptions: The Almeida, in north London's Islington, is a bold and important producing house that has regularly transferred shows to the West End and Broadway (such as the Diana Rigg "Medea" and Kevin Spacey in "The Iceman Cometh"), but it isn't a West End theatre in terms of membership, geography, or philosophy.
A better method for categorizing London's major theatres might be whether a theatre is a purely commercial house -- available for producers to rent -- or a producing theatre, one run by an artistic policy and usually (but not always) supported by state subsidy. The smaller "fringe" theatres also fit into this scheme, though their programming may be a mixture of "hires" from outside and internally produced shows.
Equity Rules and Exchanges
But if London's theatres don't always fit into one box, where do actors -- local or visiting -- fit into them? First of all, actors are technically able to appear in any theatre that will have them -- subject, of course, to employment status (American and other foreign nationals are required to have work permits to find employment here, in acting or any other salaried work). The main actors' union, British Actors' Equity, no longer exercises the stranglehold it once did on the London stage. Since Margaret Thatcher made "closed shops" illegal, actors in Britain no longer need to be members of Equity to work in front of a camera or on stage.
However, there are distinct advantages to belonging to the union, such as the fact that Equity negotiates minimum terms and conditions with employers across all areas of the entertainment industry, and the union card -- known universally as an Equity card -- is the recognized symbol of a performer's professional status. It also regulates "Equity exchanges" between the United States and the U.K., which enable actors who are not recognized as stars in their own right to be employed locally on soil that isn't theirs. These professional exchanges are based on an agreement between the American and British stage actors' unions that has been in place since the early 1980s.
It allows American and British actors who lack "international status" but have previous professional experience to work in the U.K. and America, respectively, in comparable parts for a comparable period. So if a British producer, for instance, wants to engage an American actor in a leading role in a West End musical, the producer will contact both Equity organizations to discuss this. An exchange agreement could be struck allowing a British actor to work on Broadway in a comparable part over a similar employment period.
The criteria for such exchanges used to be that either the imported actor had such unique skills that it would be difficult if not impossible to cast the role locally or that, though not a star, the actor had originated the role in his or her home territory. But nowadays the traffic is more fluid and less defined. A succession of comparatively unknown American actors has, for instance, been filling Nathan Lane's shoes in "The Producers" here, with Brad Oscar doing a stint, now followed by Fred Applegate.
The exchanges can either be open or closed: The American actor can either open a new exchange, which will then allow a British actor to work in America, or complete an exchange, which means that a British actor will have already worked in the United States. American Equity sets the minimum rates of pay for the American actor to work here and for the British actor to work there. As minimum rates under American agreements are better than those in the U.K., the value of a performer's work can't be undercut. The authorities always consult with British Equity first before granting permission to American actors to work in the U.K., so that there is an opportunity for the exchange agreement to be implemented.
The Fringe Free-for-All
But if appearing in a West End theatre or one of the major producing houses elsewhere is a salaried job subject to restrictions and agreements (intended to protect local actors' interests amidst foreign "invasion" on either shore), the fringe is historically more of a free-for-all.
Since there is no formal regulation of the fringe here -- from salaries to working conditions -- actors enter at their own risk. Here, as in New York, the fringe can be either a major testing ground for new work or a major test of endurance: Audiences, too, enter at their own risk. As the legal phrase has it, caveat emptor (buyer beware). But the seller had best beware, too.
The fringe may offer an opportunity -- free of agents and casting directors and closed audition calls -- to actors who are denied the chance, for whatever reason, to appear in a West End or major subsidized house, but it is also free of many of the protections of that environment.
There may be no salary at all: A lot of fringe productions operate purely on the basis of a nebulously defined "profit share," which, after the theatre has deducted its costs, could leave little for the actors to share. But perhaps the risk is worth taking if there might be a salary at some future point should the show have a life beyond the fringe. Unfortunately, there is absolutely no guarantee that the actors won't be replaced on the way to the West End by better-known -- or simply better -- actors, since there is no formal Equity governance of fringe productions.
The fringe is entirely its own beast, free to make up its own rules as it goes along; that is both its appeal -- with the welcome mat laid out for all -- and its drawback. David Babani, who runs the Menier Chocolate Factory, where Mark Setlock and Neil Patrick Harris won their huge acclaim, is turning the 150-seat theatre on the South Bank near the Tate Modern into a producing powerhouse, and he often invites American collaboration. For its production of John Clancy's "Americana Absurdum" last year, it imported an entire U.S. company to perform it.
Not subject to the quotas of Equity exchanges, Babani is entirely free to do what he wants, as long as he can pay for it -- not only does he pay travel and accommodation expenses for American actors in London (but don't expect the Savoy), he also negotiates rates of pay that are, he says, above American Equity minimums in every case.
But of course, given that the Menier has only 150 seats, it's not as if he's making a huge profit off the backs of his actors. Actors work here for different reasons. Setlock, for instance, simply wanted to bring "Fully Committed" to London, since it had never been seen here; he got his own reward when it subsequently transferred to an extended West End run. Neil Patrick Harris, who had been asked to perform in the New York premiere of "Tick, Tick...Boom!" four years ago but turned it down because he felt he was too young, finally got an opportunity to step into shoes that he clearly fit perfectly.
And sometimes those shoes are difficult to fill locally. Babani says that despite holding two days of auditions to replace Harris, they never found a suitable candidate, so they invited Christian Campbell -- who had done the role on a U.S. tour -- to take over.
(Lack of) Showcases
But if the fringe offers showcase production opportunities, what about getting in on the ground even earlier, via readings or workshops? In fact, there is hardly any such culture in Britain at all. "There is no developmental structure that's sustainable here for writers or composers," comments Babani.
Whereas American theatres and producers frequently rely on this method of developing new work and putting the results on display for invited audiences, over here it's hardly ever done, except in strictly private or closed-shop environments -- the equivalent of getting a few friends around to read your work.
So actors looking for valuable showcasing opportunities of their own -- to put themselves in front of industry players, as well as to participate in a developmental process that may have its own rewards down the line if the show goes on to a further life -- do not have that avenue open to them in London.
There is, however, a self-made possibility: putting on your own show. Since the fringe is so accessible to all comers, you can hire a space and do it yourself. But again beware: The costs may far outweigh the benefits. Remember that in an environment in which around 105 theatres operate at any one time, there is as much competition for audiences as there is for media coverage. Your effort, located in the further reaches of the District or Bakerloo tube lines (in one famous case, a show actually took place on a tube line), may go unnoticed. But then that's always the risk of theatre. Even some West End and Broadway shows go by without making much of an impression.