Is popular really a dirty word?

The populism we see (and often quietly judge) in theatre for young people and family audiences (TYA) is one of the big tensions in a genre that is no stranger to challenges. We know that list: underfunding, barely-there critical recognition, tight ticket pricing, shrinking school audiences, and the age-old debate about whether theatre for kids is seen as somehow less important than theatre for adults. Spoiler: it often is.

But beyond all that, there’s something else that’s been on my mind - a kind of quiet snobbery in the sector. And recently, I came across a blog from a well-respected practitioner that really got me thinking. The post took aim at the sheer number of Julia Donaldson adaptations on stage. The suggestion was that their popularity was a problem - blocking new writing and dragging down the artistic quality of the field.

Now, I get it. And let’s face it, some of this kind of the work can be pretty bad. But… really? This kind of thinking feels like self-sabotage for TYA makers. It suggests only original work counts as proper art and that familiar stories or adaptations are somehow lesser. It treats popularity as a threat to innovation, instead of what it really is - a sign of connection. And it carries a bit of patronising superiority, as if audiences need to be trained to like the right kind of theatre. And here is the thing: people – children included - gravitate to what they know. And why shouldn’t they? Whether it’s Horrible Histories, Elmer the Elephant, or Room on the Broom, these stories can spark excited recognition. They’re comforting. They’re familiar. And adults are no different. We all re-watch our favourite films, re-read much liked books and play the same music on repeat. So why are we expecting children to be culturally adventurous every time?

There’s this persistent idea floating around that once a family comes to see a well-known title, they’ll start taking more risks on experimental or lesser-known shows. But in reality, is that really true? Most adult theatre-goers stick to the mainstream, so why would we expect parents and teachers booking for children to behave differently? When time, money, and energy are tight, familiarity feels like a safe - and smart - choice.

Still, that doesn’t mean familiar = bad. If a show is selling out, bringing in repeat visits, and genuinely delighting its audiences, how is that not a success? Is popular really such a dirty word?

At the end of the day, young audiences aren’t theatre-goers of the future. They are today’s audience. Sure, some of them will grow into fans of cutting-edge work, but some will stick with pantos and West End hits, and some might not engage with theatre at all. And that’s okay. Our job isn’t to micromanage their future tastes. It’s to give them meaningful, joyful experiences now. Be that popular titles or something a bit more challenging.

In a time when the industry is under pressure and access to arts education is vanishing before our eyes, maybe the most radical thing we can do is meet audiences where they are. Embrace what they love. Make work that connects. Because popular doesn’t mean easy or lazy or artistically empty. In the right hands, they can do the job.

Now, those who know me recognise that so-called popular titles aren’t usually my go-to. I don’t typically gravitate towards the big, recognisable names. But when I have directed one, I’ve tried to approach it in my own way - taking the familiar and turning it on its head a bit. Big Red Bath, which I directed in partnership with the fabulous Full House Theatre, is a great example of that. And if you missed it, good news—it’s back on tour in 2026, so keep an eye out here.

So, if you’re considering adapting a well-loved title and think a fresh perspective could help bring it to life, I’d be genuinely excited to chat. I bring years of experience in writing and mentoring, and I’m always up for collaborating on projects that aim to connect with family audiences in meaningful ways. Message me via the contact below, I’d love to be part of the journey.

Until next time.