When Community Theatre Chooses Friends Instead of Actual Directors

by Chris Peterson

There is a particular kind of groan that only community theatre people understand. It’s the sound you make when a company announces the director for an upcoming production, and instead of excitement, you feel that sinking familiarity.

It’s the same name that shows up year after year, not because this person brings vision, clarity, or a steady hand, but because they happen to be friends with the folks in charge. It is a strange mix of disappointment and resignation, because you already know what the production is going to look like before the first rehearsal even starts.

I have watched this happen more times than I can count. I’ve seen community theatres announce a show that could really be something. Maybe it’s a piece the community hasn’t seen in a while, or something that could draw new people in. The energy is there. The interest is there. And then leadership hands the entire production over to someone who simply is not ready or capable of the responsibility. Not because they earned it. Not because they brought in a thoughtful concept. But because they are friends. Because it feels easier. Because the leadership thinks loyalty is more important than quality.

And look, I get it. Community theatres are built on relationships. They survive because people pour their time and heart into places that will never have the budget or resources of a larger company. Friendships form. Bonds grow tight. None of that is a bad thing. But there is a line.

When those friendships start dictating artistic decisions, the work suffers. The audience feels it. The actors know it. And the theatre ends up trapped in a cycle of mediocre productions that could have been so much more.

Directing is a skill. It requires preparation, taste, communication, emotional intelligence, and the ability to guide a room of people toward a shared vision. It is not a reward to hand out. It is not a favor to grant. And it is not a role someone should receive simply because they have been around long enough or happen to know the right people socially.

When a director cannot manage time, cannot articulate ideas, or cannot shape performances, the entire company pays the price. The cast gets frustrated. Tech week becomes chaos. The final product lands with a thud. And the audience walks away wondering why they bothered.

If community theatres want to grow, they have to start treating the directing role with the seriousness it deserves. Hold interviews. Ask questions about process. Look at past work. Pay attention to how candidates talk about actors and designers. Notice who comes in with enthusiasm and an actual plan. Directors do not have to be perfect. But they should show that they understand the responsibility they are taking on.

The frustration in all of this is that the solution is not complicated. It just requires intention. It requires leadership to break the habit of defaulting to friends and start prioritizing the artistic health of the theatre. A good director does more than stage a show. They raise the standard. They bring out stronger performances. They keep people coming back. They help the theatre grow.

And at the end of the day, that is what community theatre is supposed to be. A place where people learn, where stories come alive and where the work means something. That can only happen when the right people are trusted to lead.

So the next time a board sits down to choose a director, I hope they pause. I hope they think beyond friendships and traditions and comfort. And I hope they choose someone who can actually direct. Because the community deserves it. The audiences deserve it. The cast deserves it. And the theatre deserves a future that is better than just giving the job to whoever already has the board president’s phone number.