Cities are only on the mend when theatres fill up: so go see a show!

Go see a show. London has been passing through its greatest trauma since the Second World War. It is struggling to recover and needs all the help its citizens can give it. When New York in 2001 was reeling from 9/11, its then mayor Rudi Giuliani famously told its citizens not to let the city and its businesses collapse. They should behave normally, visit the park, get a pizza, “and go see a show”. He was widely ridiculed for it, but he was right.

The most vivid times I can recall during lockdown were indeed summer days in the parks. They were crowded as never before. People were seeking not just open air and space to breathe but the presence of others. They were not allowed into cinemas or restaurants, libraries or pubs, schools or churches, and not even permitted to gather with friends. They sought the reassurance of congregation. In all my life I have never seen Primrose Hill looking so much like Brighton beach.

As commercial life has returned to normal this autumn the comfort of crowds has been intriguing. It has not been superstores that have refilled, but street markets and outdoor pubs. The police at one point had to close Borough Market in Southwark such were the crowds. Portobello was jammed, as were Brick Lane, Camden Lock and Hackney’s Broadway. People seemed to crave the company of strangers.

Nothing has seemed more needed than the reopening of theatres and especially, so I am told, musicals, which have been packed. The Creative Industries Research Centre says 55,000 staff in London’s performing industries were thrown out of work during lockdown. By this week the ticket booth in Leicester Square was reporting sales back virtually to 2019 levels. It has been like Restoration London after Cromwell, when Pepys declared the theatre to be “a thousand times better and more glorious than ever before”. The reopening has been celebrated by Andrew Lloyd Webber’s £60 million restoration of his Theatre Royal Drury Lane. It is now not just a place for plays but a glittering theatrical palace, a maze of bars, saloons, terraces and a gallery of Pre-Raphaelite paintings from Lloyd Webber’s personal collection.

I greeted this new dawn by seeing two contrasting productions, one the Barbican’s brilliant revival of Cole Porter’s Anything Goes, the other Samuel Becket’s Happy Days with Lisa Dwan at Hammersmith’s Riverside. Both were superb, but what was remarkable was the audiences. They were sold out as Londoners emerged like troglodytes blinking into the light. They smiled at each other. Strangers chatted. Audiences applauded even the raising of the curtain and cheered actors referring to “how nice to see you again”.

There had been no shortage of entertainment during lockdown. Huddled over our screens, we could all sate ourselves on television, Netflix and whatever. But nothing beats live. Theatre-going is a collective experience. It requires the presence of other people and a human interaction between actor and audience. Applause is a form of conversation. No one claps a cinema screen. A lively and diverse theatre is a sure sign of a city on the mend. London’s leisure and hospitality industries have had a desperate time largely because they depend heavily on freelance and casual staff with scant state support. Many are still devastated by lack of European staff, and hotels by a lack of customers. Restaurants are closed for lunch and many pubs serve only drinks. There are no cooks.

The work front is bizarre. I have visited office blocks that are still half empty, receptionists admitting to not knowing if or when all staff will return. While Tubes and buses are back to 70 per cent of pre-pandemic passengers, surface railways are reportedly 40 per cent down, with the once busiest station, Waterloo, nearer 60 per cent.

London will recover because it always does. Plague, fire, Blitz and recession seem unable to dent it. But everything is uncertain. For the first time in most of our lives, nobody can forecast its economy even a year into the future. So we can take comfort that public congregation has recovered.

As timeless as Nelson’s Column, the Mousetrap, the Lion King and Les Mis are back on stage. The bands are playing and the smell of greasepaint wafts over Shaftesbury Avenue. When I was young there were just 30 live plays on the London stage each night. This week I counted more than 60. All they need is your presence. So give yourself a treat and go see a show.