J. Kelly Nestruck has left the building. (Or at least the aisle seat.)
Last month, Nestruck left the Globe and Mail’s theatre critic posting to pursue a new beat: TV criticism. Nestruck has been a fixture at opening nights (and on social media) since he first stepped into the role in 2008. In his time at the Globe, he’s reviewed hundreds of shows and followed some of the biggest recent projects in the industry, from Kim’s Convenience to Come From Away.
Nestruck’s departure marks a major shift in the landscape of Canada’s theatre criticism. As an outlet with vested interest in theatre criticism in Toronto and beyond, Intermission conducted an exit interview with Nestruck, covering everything from the state of Canadian playwriting to his top TV picks for fans of Canadian theatre.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
When did you know it was time to switch things up?
I was fairly young when I was hired. I came into the job thinking this would be a great thing to do for five years.
But when I started to have kids, I thought, “Okay, there’s a reason why a big chunk of audiences disappear when they have children.” It’s really hard to balance parenting with evening performances. I don’t know how actors do it. But I have two kids, and if I want to make a 7:30 p.m. curtain, then my wife or someone else has to be home to put the kids down, and that’s really a two-person job at the moment.
How are you spending your evenings now?
I joined a French book club, because I knew I’d have my evenings back. As a theatre critic, it’s really hard to make plans with people at night, which is normally when adults make plans. That hasn’t been possible for 16, 17 years now. So having that flexibility to meet a friend or family member is great.
Sticking to the topic of kids, I’m curious how parenthood affected your approach to reviewing beyond the logistics. You memorably called Girls and Boys at Here for Now Theatre “unreviewable” in one of your old, deleted tweets, and your kids have made guest appearances in a few reviews.
Oh gosh, Girls and Boys. I nearly passed out while watching that show. It was too real, too sensitive for me. I had to put my head in my knees because I thought I might pass out.
Having kids in my life has reminded me of the rituals of theatregoing. I remember when I first took my niece to the theatre, to see a show at Alberta Theatre Projects. It reminded me of how much of the experience is taking transit there, and how exciting that was, and how the juice at intermission was a really big thing. I remember, too, seeing Charlotte’s Web, and how important it was that the actress playing Charlotte came out for a bow at the end. It was important for the kids to see that the actors weren’t really hurt, and that they were actors. I remembered that that’s what bows are about. It’s been great to reconnect with that sort of thing as a theatregoer.
From your perspective as a critic, what’s changed the most in Canadian theatre in the last few decades?
The people who are in charge have changed radically since I started. When I started reviewing in Toronto, all the artistic directors at the venued companies were white men. That’s no longer the case, and that’s great. It gives me hope for the city.
I also think that in Ontario, the overemphasis on the idea of classics has passed. One of my absolute favourite things about theatre is watching artists wrestle with old texts, but it was kind of an unhealthy balance — it was all about classical rep theatres when I started. Soulpepper was one of those, just like Shaw and Stratford. Now there seems to be more of a balance. If you look at the National Theatre in London (U.K.), there’s a healthy mix of classics and contemporary works. Even the Royal Shakespeare Company was better known for creating new work at the time I started than the Stratford Festival — and the Shaw Festival was basically an ethnic theatre company that focused on the diaspora of the British Isles. But that’s changed under Jackie Maxwell and Tim Carroll. And Soulpepper is obviously more of a contemporary theatre company now, which is a change.
New play companies have changed too, actually. There aren’t a lot of new play theatres in the world, and making your company entirely about new Canadian plays — I don’t think that always serves new Canadian plays very well. Crow’s mainly does new work, but it’s not branded as such, and I think that’s why a show there will get more audience than an entire season at some of the other new Canadian play companies in Toronto.
Michael Healey recently said that three of those “new play companies” — Factory, Tarragon, and Theatre Passe Muraille — should merge. Do you agree?
That’s long been his point of view, and it’s completely wrong. Those companies should not merge. But they should continue to distinguish themselves from one another, and take on really strong, specific new mandates.
What are some of the major changes you’ve seen in theatre criticism during your time at the Globe?
Well, I started in 2008. There were more critics in print legacy newspapers and other publications, and then that changed. I’ve always been surprised at how little anyone in the theatre community seemed to care that the Toronto Sun and the National Post stopped publishing reviews. There was zero outcry from TAPA, and I think that might be people having political blinkers on. People from across the political spectrum enjoy live performance.
I’m concerned about people trying to curate their audiences so they get the “right” response to their work. There was an Intermission article about that which I found interesting, about the wrong type of laughter at certain plays.
It’s baffling to me that local papers don’t have theatre critics. This is a tough job to do for a national readership, but theatre criticism is the definition of local journalism, as far as I’m concerned. Only a newspaper owned by a hedge fund wouldn’t understand that it’s valuable content. The Globe and Mail has never wavered in its support of theatre coverage. It’s a business that our readers want to read about. People will spend $100 to see a show, and they want to have advice, or someone to consult with as they make that decision.
You’ve covered a lot of controversies in your time as the Globe’s theatre critic. Do any stand out as being particularly meaningful to your career?
When #MeToo happened, I wound up spending a lot of time speaking to people about their experiences with sexual harassment and worse in the industry over decades. I only got to report on a little bit of that. A lot of those interviews never made it to print because we couldn’t break all those stories. That stuck with me.
Would you ever go back to those stories?
During #MeToo, we were asking questions about how to report on these things. Given Canada’s rather strict libel laws, and the issue of dealing with anonymity, I think a lot of that stuff will remain in whisper networks.
You were one of the only journalists from a major outlet to cover the cancellation of The Runner out west. Where is that sitting with you as you leave this role?
I believe the Belfry should have made a different decision about The Runner, or made it in a different way. I’ve heard a lot of critiques of that play that I think are totally valid. It was surprising to me how few artists said, “I may not agree with this show, but I think this isn’t how things should go down in Canadian theatre.”
I would recommend that anyone who thinks they know what perspective that play is coming from, to go and read Daniel Brooks’ play with Guillermo Verdecchia, The Noam Chomsky Lectures.
You wrote in your goodbye column: “There are some aspects of the current culture wars that drive me up the wall, places where thoughtful criticism turns into censoriousness and an impossibly perfect politics are demanded in sensitive areas. But every time my inner reactionary starts to rear his head, I just look at what’s actually on stage and see that it’s much more exciting and distinct now.” Were you thinking of a specific issue?
I mean, yeah, this has been a recurrent issue for me to grapple with, and to think and rethink my positions on. I resist prescriptivism in theatre in general — the idea that there is a single right way to put on a show. The “just do the play” bloggers who are anti-direction, for instance, come to mind. As for censoriousness, I was and remain skeptical of the idea that so-called “cancel culture” emerged during my time as a critic; I view censoriousness as a constant strain in Canadian culture that comes from all corners and in many forms.
I came onto the beat when Canadian Stage was still dealing with the repercussions of not producing My Name Is Rachel Corrie, after board members and donors said it would “provoke a negative reaction in” or be “offensive” to the Jewish community. The eventual independent production of that play was one of the early shows I reviewed. From that to The Runner, there’s a common thread.
On one level, it’s always nice to see that people still believe theatre has power — because it does. That power could even be the power to harm — I couldn’t physically handle Girls and Boys because of my personal history. People love to snort at trigger warnings, but it isn’t censorious to let people know a play might not be for them. That’s one of the functions of criticism. I believe in individuals and communities feeling free to criticize. But it’s become particularly hard for me after the pandemic to see shows shuttered.
Is there a feature or review you’re proudest of?
Yeah: The ones I didn’t write. One of my favourite shows was Cliff Cardinal’s As You Like It, and I chose not to review it or write my own ruse of a review. I mentioned it briefly and then wrote a piece later about Cliff. That tested my impulses as a journalist, to be like, “There’s this really exciting thing happening, and I want to tell my readers about it, but I’m restraining myself from doing so.” That was probably better for the art and the readership in the long term. Learning to be quiet was a whole journey for me.
I’m happy to have been there to write about Jordan Tannahill’s early career. He’s continued to be a fascinating artist in theatre. I’m glad that I jumped on Ride the Cyclone. It was fun to see Hamilton with the original cast.
It’s hard for me to remember what I wrote. It really is such a day-in-day-out kind of job.
Are you hopeful about the future of Canadian theatre?
Absolutely. It’s a really exciting scene. I think it’s more exciting now than it was when I started. Obviously the pandemic has hit things hard, and it’s distressing to see Factory and Blyth suing each other. Their boards should put an end to that. But I feel like there are so many exciting artists working.
Are you hopeful about the future of Canadian theatre criticism?
I’m excited to read whoever writes next for the Globe. I think I’m most curious about how people can build sustainable careers in theatre criticism, so it’s not just people who don’t need an income who are able to do this job. It’s hard to see so much young talent go into TV or other careers because they can’t afford to do — or write about — theatre.
I’m excited about how Intermission has been evolving, and I’m excited to see someone back full-time at the Star. I think CBC should step up a little bit in terms of theatre coverage in general.
I guess the question is: Have I ever been excited about theatre criticism? I’m interested in reading what people want to write, and I want to see more people writing about theatre. I’d just like to see the conditions exist for that so that it’s not just retirees on blogs.
Do you have any advice for your successor?
No.
None?
It’s up to them to figure out how to do the job in their own way. I was quite different from my predecessors, so I’d rather leave it to people to figure out how they want to do the job.
If pressed, my advice would be to think about audiences. Audiences don’t get a lot of respect. The most respectful thing you can do for your audiences is be honest about what you’re seeing and what you think.
Last question: Any TV recommendations for our audience?
Obviously Slings and Arrows. But that’s actually something I’m excited about in the shift to TV — there is so much variety. More comedy, more genre. There is so much TV out there, and I feel like I’m just dipping into it. I’m excited for what I haven’t watched yet.