Thoughts about The Franchise that Shall Not be Named

Harry Potter is trending on BlueSky (don’t ask me why - I think it might be because of the reboot show? Edit: it is; the trailer dropped the day I started writing this post). I know this because I’m currently twiddling my thumbs at work; you can’t sell tickets when a show’s sold out. Anyway, I came across this skeet* on my BlueSky Discover feed:

You have a point, Chuck Tingle.

*sidenote: I HATE that posts on BlueSky are called “skeets”. This is not a “Boaty McBoatface” situation; we, the public, have categorically failed.

Cue me reading the whole of Chuck’s thread. I’d recommend checking it out, especially if you’re unaware of and/or confused by the arguments for disengaging with this franchise. The TLDR, for those of you content staying within your rocky abode, is that people can judge you when you engage with shit that harms them. Which is so obvious that it shouldn’t need a social media thread to explain the concept. But there we go.

The comments also gave some additional insights that I felt added to the discourse, which is a rare thing on the interwebs:

I couldn’t verify Aouki’s assertion here, but it’s a useful interpretation.

I feel like Shard has got human nature spot on here.

There are many other arguments against supporting anything to do with The Franchise That Shall Not Be Named; lining the pockets of it’s mould-riddled, billionaire, TERF creator is the main one. This is especially true as she believes that anyone engaging with her work supports her agenda (and has said so, publicly). She is, indeed, the poster child for “No Ethical Billionaires”. When it came to the books, films, wider spin-off movies and video-games, it was pretty easy for me to cut the cord. I’d loved the books growing up, but I hadn’t made my Hogwarts House my entire personality.

But of course, no one with a passing interest in theatre can discuss the books about the lightening-scarred, bespectacled teen without hearing the ponderous, thudding footsteps of the Elephant in the Auditorium: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child.

I was looking for a picture of a cursed elephant on Pixabay and my Supervisor suggested this. Credit: Brooklyn Beckham

I haven’t seen Cursed Child. At first it was because of the exorbitant prices and the fact I hate the whole ‘play in two parts’ gimmick. It feels like a producer-led cash grab to me and I refuse to fall for it with any production. Then, I heard that the writing wasn’t great and felt vindicated despite missing out on the amazing theatrical effects. Then, Joanne ramped up the TERF-itude and even us cishet folk couldn’t ignore the hate she was spewing and the harm it was causing. At that point, I decided that I could live without seeing this particular show. This doesn’t seem to be the common stance within our industry. I know a few actors who’ve been in it or have been seen for it, and others who have bought tickets, all post-Covid and her doubling down on her transphobic rhetoric.

I can’t speak for all creatives, but as an actor I can understand the pressure of wanting to break through that West End ceiling. As Joanne’s anti-trans stance calcified, I found myself questioning what I would do if my agent called with an audition. If I was offered a part, could I turn it down? Would I accept and donate a percentage of my pay to Trans charities? If I told people close to me not to buy tickets, would that make it okay?

The truth is, in this late stage capitalist hellscape, you can ask the same questions about any job that pays decently: Disney is complicit in Israel’s continuing genocide of Palestinians - should I audition for The Lion King or Hercules? Andrew Lloyd Webber famously flew via private jet to vote in favour of austerity - should I refuse to work in any of the six West End Theatres he owns? However, I do think Joanne’s dogged determination to actively and personally contribute to the discrimination of trans people is…let’s say “unique”. Lord Webber voted for austerity, but as far as I’m aware he’s not paying to take poor people to court.

For my part, I would struggle with my conscience if I accepted a role in The Cursed Child. Though I’ve never said so publicly until now (I should probably have a chat with my agent…), I’ve known this for a while. Call it stubbornness or my Aquarius Sun. I realised the excuses I was making for taking this imaginary job offer were born of selfishness; I was putting my hypothetical gains above the harm I would cause my trans friends if they knew. Ultimately, I don’t want to be that kind of person. And assuming I wasn’t choosing between The Cursed Child and homelessness, other jobs would come along.

“I’ll have the chicken then, please.”

I’m not the Jiminy Cricket of the acting world. I understand that others need to follow their own moral compass. The important thing for me is that, as artists, we can’t keep bypassing the issue. We live in a society where Mouldy Joanne benefits, both financially and socio-politically, from people seeing The Cursed Child. It’s her IP. She sees people engaging with Harry Potter as vindicating and endorsing her actions. That doesn’t mean you can’t be involved in the show; that’s not my decision to make and I don’t know your circumstances. But firstly, you have to accept the consequences; Trans people are allowed to not like or trust you if you take a job on this franchise. And secondly, ignoring that you’d be engaging in an institution that active harms one of the most marginalised and persecuted groups in our society is disingenuous and delusional.

I think we don’t address this because we don’t want to burst our theatrical bubble. We want to uphold the image of our industry as inclusive and progressive and magical. It’s collective Ego. And it’s not going to move our industry forward or make us of best service to our audiences. The truth is, if everyone refused to audition for The Cursed Child it would eventually close. And if we as individuals call ourselves “allies”, “progressive” and “inclusive”, we can at least be honest with ourselves about where we aren’t living up to those ideals and why. Is it because we want that career break? Is it because we really need a job right now? Is it because we love the show as a piece of theatre?

I don’t think there’s a neat way to wrap up this post. I guess it’s to say that as much as we would like to be, we are not exempt. We live in a world of hate and division. Some of that hate and division is bolstered by our industry. Change can only begin by us being aware and engaged. And as artists, aware and engaged is what we should always strive to be.