Cambridge is often proclaimed as one of the best drama schools in the country, despite not actually offering a course in drama. While partly a reflection on the huge names that the Cambridge theatre scene has produced, this should also be credited to the professional approach that students take towards their work. Many get stuck in with the theatre scene in Cambridge with this constant thought in the back of their minds: “Could I just do this for a living?”.

This will not be a shock to anyone who has been involved in a production or has had the misfortune of becoming an emotional support crutch to an overly stressed thesp. Scenes are rehearsed, sets built, lighting designed, music composed, and dresses run all in the space of a handful of weeks. Those who are regulars in the Cambridge theatre world typically have made peace with their degree being managed around the margins of an intense theatre schedule.

“Cambridge theatre doesn’t have to be a pipeline to future greatness”

As such, the world of Cambridge theatre is one that favours the would-be professionals: those who constantly have a show on the go and are willing to go that extra mile for each production they are involved in. They are the last to leave the ADC bar chatting to their friends of differing year groups and colleges. Friendships formed in the furnace of whatever strange college room rehearsals take them to.

However, the drive of the Cambridge thesp to get that part, work on that show – epitomised by incredible opportunities like the Marlowe showcase – leads to them overlooking a crucial part of amateur theatre. For many, Cambridge theatre doesn’t have to be a pipeline to future greatness and they never wish it to be. Amateur theatre holds so much of its own value in communities throughout this country – especially nowadays.

“Value is lost in the aspiring professionalism of university theatre”

With cost of living rising, and theatres struggling to recover from COVID, the escalating cost of professional theatre is making the formalised dramatic arts less accessible. Meanwhile in village halls, scout huts and cricket pavilions across the nation this Christmas, diasporas of amdram lovers engaged in one of the greatest of British traditions; the Community Pantomime. To those who have not attended one of these occasions, you are missing out. My own village’s panto was essentially a compulsory part of the educational curriculum. Going back this year, I was reminded of the power of this tradition in community building.

These productions are team-building exercises that would thrill any corporate HR team. Children, parents, pensioners alike spend months stitching costumes, painting scenery and writing bad knock-knock jokes to delight the toddlers. These are carefully balanced against overcooked attempts at political satire to please the centrist dad (I’m sure Liz Truss got plenty of shoutouts this year). It’s amateur drama for its own sake; produced by the community for the community.

This same attitude can be reflected in Cambridge theatre, when student drama is at its best. People brought together with a shared project that they are trying to pull off, in what often seems like the most ridiculous of timeframes, for their enjoyment and for the pleasure of the Cambridge student community. But too often, this value is lost in the aspiring professionalism of university theatre. Obsessive focus on labels such as “footlight” or “Marlowe performer” seem to be rooted in a desperation to be part of that Cambridge-industry pipeline. In this mentality, student amateur drama becomes nothing more than a stepping stone to bigger and better things after university.

I have nothing but admiration for those thesps, committed enough to their art to decide at this age that it will be the defining part of their university experience, with the hope it will be their working life after university. But by framing the Cambridge theatre primarily as something reserved to be the “stomping ground” for the next generation of Phil Wangs and Tom Hiddlestons, the essence of amateur drama can be lost.

Amateur drama, especially at Cambridge, opens up so many opportunities beyond university, so by all means shoot for the stars. But remember: your bigger and better things might well be your own community pantomime, and what a privilege that would be.