'2023 Was the Year The National Theatre Stood Up to the Plate' - Alexander Cohen's Best Theatre of 2023

The National Theatre somewhat mutedly celebrated its 60th anniversary this year. There was ostensibly little fanfare. No public flotillas, no audiences with royal patrons or forty-one gun salutes. Instead we have been on the receiving end of presents, and a plethora of them in the form of one knockout production after another.

I’m often asked for recommendations and this year I’ve found myself gleefully replying “whatever is on at The National”. Hence my choice for the best theatre of 2023 is exactly that. Anything at The National.

From the supercharged spectacle to the sweaty intimacy of two handers, there’s an underlying family resemblance between this year’s roster of shows. Together they posed fundamental questions about community and identity: what they are and where they intersect, ideas more ripe for discussion than ever in post-Brexit Britain still reeling from Covid trauma.

Dear England stands out as an obvious example. A glorious state-of-the-nation play, currently celebrating extra time in a West End transfer, it used the emotional turbulence of men’s national football teams as a stencil to draw a psychological picture of modern Britain.

Standing at the Sky’s Edge was a grassroots celebration of spiritual resilience in the face of gentrification and socio-economic change. This had a similar effect for mapping Sheffield’s emotional history. I can’t thank it enough for introducing me to the music of Richard Hawley whose melancholy-tinged melodies make up the soundtrack.

Community was at the pulsating core of Dancing at Lughnasa whose excellent ensemble garnered enough warmth to melt the Alps. The boisterous poignancy of Hayley Squires’ and Jo Martin’s performances in Death of England: Closing Time stabbed quick and deep at the soul with its bold focus on the intersection of race and class.

Identity and individuality formed the central nexus of the stylishly stark revival of Lucy Prebble’s medical mindbender The Effect. Were Paapa Essiedu and Taylor Russells’ characters really in love? Or were they, and by extension are we, just a bundle of chemicals? They stole headlines with mesmerising performances. Michele Austin’s subtly devastating take on Dr Lorna James will always stick with me more.

The National also seem to have hit the sweet spot of balancing British writing with international classics. We saw excellent revivals of Racine (after Seneca), Lorca and Friel. But for my money the best is the American import Infinite Life. Annie Baker’s new play has maintained a stranglehold on my imagination. Its quiet audacity is astonishing, catch it whilst you can.

Critics like me are wrapped in a perpetual state of anxiety about the slow death of serious acting in the face of tawdry commercial entertainment. We worry about streaming services chomping away at audiences, leaving theatres as desolate mausoleums to a lost art.

But whilst there are heftier pay checks elsewhere for Sam Mendes, James Graham, Roy Williams, Jamie Lloyd, Jack Thorne, Josie Rourke, Lucy Kirkwood, Jamie Lloyd, Roy Williams, Rupert Goold, Alice Birch, and many more, they still return to The National, a testament to its magnetism, its reputation, and its artistic excellence. The King once infamously referred to the National as the Southbank’s own nuclear power station, today the building feels more like a cathedral.

Celebrating the big hits and the big names is important but the small-scale moments deserve recognition too. In the summer whilst enjoying a pint at the Kerb Bar I watched a community performance on the River Stage. Most of the actors were barely teenagers. Parents and other passersby gathered to cheer them on. In amongst the crowd Johnny Flynn, then and currently staring as Richard Burton in The Motive and the Cue, a play about celebrating cultural identity and performance, was watching bright eyed and enamoured.

But success doesn’t spawn out of nowhere. It is birthed from the collective effort of a miniature army of artists, performers, set designers, marketing gurus, producers, PR, props handlers, lighting designers, sound designers, stage managers, finance bods, and accountants, all working tirelessly in tandem. Next time you applaud at the curtain call, applaud for them too because all of them bloody deserve it.

As for 2024? Indhu Rubasingham's excellent appointment as artistic director will send pundits furiously gazing into their mystic balls. We have already seen a slate of shows announced for up to 2025, the end of the current head honcho Rufus Norris’ tenure. But whatever the future holds, we have good reason to be excited with Rubasingham, who helmed the transformation of the Kiln Theatre, taking the reigns. 

I would like to see the new artistic director take fresh gambles on young writers. When I say young, I mean young. I mean Gen Z. It’s time we, the generation who have seemingly had our face in the dirt since we came around, told some stories of our own. As much as it has a duty to revive old classics, the National can be a crucial stepping stone for young writers. Big names can draw crowds in but so can unknown ones if what they offer cuts the mustard. 

Main Photo Credit: The Effect , Marc Brenner

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