Guest Blog: 'Theatre Can Never Be Perfect': Actor Ellen Robertson on Capturing the Essence of a Show and the Jeopardy of Acting in the Open Air

I’m gonna come clean. I asked ChatGPT to write this article for me. Partly because I’m a perfectionist and we’ve just finished a six-day rehearsal week and head into tech on Monday and I worried I didn’t have time to do a good job. And partly because I’d never used ChatGPT before and was intrigued!

Here’s what it came up with: “Hold onto your quivers, for I, Ellen Robertson, find myself immersed in a vibrant ensemble of actors, brimming with excitement! Picture this: the enchanting Regent's Park Open Air Theatre in London, where the summer breeze carries the whispers of pure theatrical enchantment. And here I stand, ready to embark on an exhilarating journey as Marian (not Maid Marian!) in the captivating rendition of Robin Hood directed by Melly Still. Allow me to share the joy and anticipation that fills the air as we, an extraordinary ensemble, bring this timeless tale to life. As we gather for rehearsals, the air crackles with creative energy, camaraderie, and a shared commitment to delivering an unforgettable performance. The chemistry among us is palpable, a tapestry woven with trust, collaboration, and the shared love for our craft.”

Firstly: woah. You can tell this is American software. I tried adding ‘can you make it less ostentatious?’, but the second article ChatGPT wrote described the production as ‘thorough’ so I don’t think that’s quite right either. I’m not sure what a thorough Robin Hood would look like but it sounds like it might really go in on Medieval tax.

I kept attempting to hone my prompt and every different version of the article I forced the poor bot to churn out had one thing in common: hyperbole. ChatGPT seemed to have an eye on the hard sell. I’m sure that’s what most marketing teams want from their copy, and, to be fair to the lil’ bot, it included everything I ever asked of it, the relevant information seamlessly incorporated, nothing overlooked or tacked on as an afterthought. The grammar was spot on. No long tangents hung awkwardly in brackets at the end of paragraphs.

And I’m sure it’s true that you gotta be pretty much perfect to stand out in this economy (where funding to the Arts has been slashed, where earning a living as a theatrical actor feels ever more precarious, and where there’s a nationwide cost of living crisis driven by a conservative government apparently hellbent on assisting untethered capitalism’s voracious drive to make the rich richer, kind of like a cabinet of backwards Robin Hoods: Nibor Dooh doesn’t even sound that different from Nadine Dorries. (I digress.)

The implication in all the articles was that our Robin Hood is not just good theatre, not even merely “unforgettable”, but faultless. Not a cue missed or a prop left behind or a step out of place. And all of that — forgive me for this ostentation — made me realise why I love doing theatre. It’s possibly why ChatGPT’s articles all felt a bit… freaky. Because they’re too perfect. They lack human error.

Something, in our Robin Hood, the night you see it, will go wrong. It’ll probably be something that’s never gone wrong before. Given how good the cast and band are, it will almost certainly be my fault. But (I will tell myself in the shower afterwards) theatre can never be perfect. It’s live, baby! Isn’t that kind of why we keep going? Anything could happen. And this is in the Open Air, for God’s sake. Regent’s Park have strict codes of conduct when it comes to discussing weather, so who knows if this will be axed from the article, but look: it might rain. It might be scorchingly hot. A bird might shit all over the stage during the finale! Come and see it anyway!

Come and see it because Carl Grose has managed to create something fresh from near thousand-year-old folklore, come to see Melly Still’s astounding eye for the big picture and the minutiae, come to hear Jenny Moore’s music, which is haunting and breathtaking and vital, and because the whole creative team and crew and are superb and doing so much you’ll never see to make it all happen, and the cast is proper good (and, sidenote, we all genuinely get on! Yikes I hope there isn’t a WhatApp group without me in it.) Come and see it for the ingenuity and the brilliance and the spectacle, but come too for the endeavour, the gesture, the many sweaty bodies doing what bodies seem habitually to do around campfires as the light fades: to tell stories.

This is why I don’t work in PR. Come and see it because it won’t be perfect. Oh shit and I play Marian.

Robin Hood: The Legend. Re-written. is at Regent's Park Open Air Theatre from 17 June - 22 July

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