• by Rob Kendt , February 23, 2006

It seems you can't turn anywhere these days without some pundit sounding the death knell for some form of media or other: It's the end of movies, they say, or the end of network television, or the end of the 30-second spot. As a theater critic, I have to laugh when I read these predictions. Theater is not only the oldest medium, apart from music; it's also the art form that has been pronounced dead so many times that it's acquired the nickname "The Fabulous Invalid."

Yes, the theater is still alive and kicking, despite the doomsayers. It's not a particularly high-margin business; as playwright Robert Anderson once famously put it, "You can make a killing in the theater, but you can't make a living." That's still as true as ever. But the stage remains a viable trade, not only in New York but in regional and community theaters all over the country. In short, it's not going away.

As a theater critic for more than 15 years, I guess I might be considered an "influential" in this "space," to use marketing parlance. And if you ask me why one of the oldest, most linear art forms around stubbornly persists in the midst of proliferating and ever more portable media alternatives, I'd have to say it's about scarcity and privilege. The experience of witnessing performers live onstage, sharing the same air and emotions with an audience in real time, is comparatively rare and precious in our atomized, isolated, digitized lives. Virtual social networks thrive online, while appointment television may be waning. But the theater still offers both the ultimate appointment entertainment and social connection point rolled into one.

What's more, theater predates the mass media, which means it was a niche market before there was such a term. It still is. Yes, some hit shows play for years and tour the world, but even on a good night a play or a musical typically reaches a mere fraction of the viewers for the nation's least watched TV show. Indeed, many of the hottest, most talked-about shows reach literally hundreds or fewer patrons on any given night. As with a trendy restaurant, a seat at a hit show is precious real estate, with the price set accordingly high.

While marketing and audience services for theaters have partly migrated to the Internet, the official machinery of promoting theater has changed very little over the years: ads on TV and in newspapers, press releases and listings, and editorial coverage, including reviews and features. There are no market research studies to prove the effectiveness of such traditional efforts; for every anecdote about a show boosted or closed down by The New York Times, there's another tale about a show that survived a negative Times review ("Wicked" is one current example).

So what really drives theater attendance? As with many niche activities, particularly ones outside the mass-media fray, it is word-of-mouth that makes or breaks a show on Broadway, Off-Broadway, or at your local regional theater.

You can track the buzz in theater chat rooms, blogs, and news sites. You can hear it at the next table in one of those trendy restaurants, as well as at the less trendy ones. You can read one review, or 10 reviews, and argue about them with your friends. You can marvel at the TV ad that selectively blurbs a bad review to make it sound like the critic loved the show. Indeed, the conversation and dish around theatergoing is a must-see show unto itself, and it operates by the decidedly low-tech medium of talk among like-minded individuals.

There are lessons here for word-of-mouth marketers. Firms like BzzAgent and Tremor that seek out volunteer agents to spread the word about new products have learned that an engaged consumer is not passive. He or she is part of a self-selecting group composed of self-appointed experts and influentials, for whom the product itself is merely one element in a lively social dialogue about taste and lifestyle. Such a consumer becomes a brand advocate by choice.

Who do you think fits that profile to a T? Avid theatergoers may be the ultimate word-of-mouth marketers, and all they get for their efforts is the irreplaceable experience of an ancient but still vital art form.